Since I was 13, becoming a doctor was my ambition, inspired by my parents who are also in the medical profession. They have always found great fulfillment in their work despite having been in the field for more than three decades. However, my parents tried to dissuade me from pursuing a medical career, sharing horror stories about the taxing nature of the profession. Despite their warnings, I was determined to follow in their footsteps. Medical school was both enjoyable and demanding. The first two years felt like an extension of high school, with endless studying and memorization. From the third year, things became more intense as we began shadowing junior doctors in hospitals and spending full days there before studying at night. It was then I realized we would soon be taking on the responsibilities of those junior doctors, and the burden of patient care began to weigh heavily on me. Our seniors often warned us about the challenging working hours post-graduation, including grueling on-call shifts that lasted two days straight, which made me question if I could physically and mentally handle such demands.
Before entering college, I worked in hospitals and clinics, but nothing prepared me for the post-graduation transition, particularly the long working hours. The unrelenting routine and manpower constraints led to mounting burnout. The thought of leaving first surfaced after an exhausting stretch of 19 consecutive workdays. It felt paradoxical that while patients could get some rest, doctors, during on-call duties, had to make life-or-death decisions despite being utterly exhausted. This high level of accountability, coupled with physical exhaustion, felt unsafe and unsustainable.
Life as a recent medical graduate in Singapore is demanding due to our government-subsidized education requiring a five-year service bond after graduation and a year of horsemanship. Junior doctors often work about 60 hours a week, which sometimes extends up to 80 or 90 hours. This vast time commitment into one’s late twenties or thirties didn't seem feasible for me, either physically or mentally. Even though breaking my bond and leaving would mean repaying over $375,000—about $75,000 annually—I prioritized my long-term health over financial concerns.
To my surprise, my decision to leave received support from family, friends, and colleagues, and it was also well-received when I blogged about it. Following my resignation in July 2022, I took a career break and traveled for three months to recover from burnout. Currently, I divide my time between working as a locum doctor and pursuing a graduate diploma in mental health. I value the flexibility this lifestyle offers, allowing me the freedom to choose when and where to work, be it in a clinic or through telemedicine. While I'm not seeking a full-time role right now, I'm open to exploring ventures in areas of interest like lifestyle medicine or mental and preventive health. Addressing burnout and exhaustion in healthcare remains a complex challenge for governments globally. Younger doctors today advocate for work-life balance, recognizing the importance of not sacrificing their well-being to serve others.