Suffering Doesn’t Equal Success: The Lunch Break I Was Too Pre-med to Take

“Should I be doing that?” I asked myself as I watched yet another doctor slam a third energy drink without eating a morsel of food for our entire shift. With lunch breaks spent dictating patient charts or responding to inbox messages, it was no longer surprising to me that so many physicians suffer from extreme burnout. 

As a lifelong advocate for proper fueling, I was saddened to see myself become self-conscious about having a lunch packed every day. Was I not working hard enough? I began to fall into a pattern of fasting throughout my 8-10 hour shifts, becoming a cranky, exhausted version of myself that no longer felt excited to come to clinic. 

Despite how horrible I felt working through my lunch break, it felt like a badge of honor. I was emulating that overworked doctor we all love to see suffering on the TV screen— Dr. Robby in The Pitt or Dr. Meredith Grey in Grey’s Anatomy— and it made me feel like I was learning how a physician is “supposed to” behave. 

Part of the problem is that, as students, we are constantly fed by the idea that being busy means being successful. We praise the student who studies until 3 a.m., skips meals to finish an assignment, fills every hour of their schedule, and somehow still manages to say yes to one more responsibility. In pre-med culture especially, exhaustion can start to feel like proof that we are working hard enough. We convince ourselves that if we are fatigued, stressed, and constantly falling behind on schedule, we must be doing something right. 

Somewhere along my journey, productivity became synonymous with self-neglect. That’s how doctors are, right? I mean, who else is crazy enough to go through over a decade of rigorous schooling to not put all of their energy into patient care? If anything, I was simply getting a head start. 

I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Months passed, and I had officially fallen victim to the romanticized idea of suffering for one’s career. As a medical scribe, my job isn’t nearly as difficult as a physician’s, though it is something I truly pour my time and energy into. But that kind of relentless effort— along with the stress of my studies, personal life, and MCAT prep— began taking a toll on my health. 

“I can’t make it to class without wanting to cry,” I remember telling my mom over the phone. “It feels like I’m swimming in wet concrete”. 

More symptoms would arise throughout the spring semester. Nausea. Headaches. Joint pain. Brain fog. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d pushed myself past my limit, and my body was paying the price. 

I’m not saying all of this stemmed from skipping lunch, though I wouldn’t be surprised if something so seemingly small was enough to send me over the edge. At such a vulnerable time in my life, ignoring my body was the last thing I should have been doing. I was already pushing myself too hard, and choosing to ignore basic needs like hunger became another manifestation of that neglectful mindset.

The following summer, I would begin working for a new doctor as the company I scribed under shifted hospital systems. 

Dr. Amrita Padda is a rheumatologist in Maumee, Ohio, experienced in treating rare autoimmune disorders. This is impressive in itself, but there is something I admire more about her that has nothing to do with her credentials: 

Dr. Padda has total respect for her body, her schedule, and me. 

From the day I began training with her, I took notice of Dr. Padda’s attention to fueling her body throughout the shift. She is regularly snacking on fruits and vegetables and endorses the same anti-inflammatory, plant-based diet that she prescribes to her patients. In addition to this, she does not overbook herself, giving her and me both enough time to grab a bite to eat and finish up tasks between appointments. For the first time in my life, I was meeting a doctor who actually had time to sign her notes before clocking out. 

That isn’t to say that Dr. Padda doesn’t work hard or face the same demands as other physicians. The difference is that she makes a conscious effort to take care of her health, ensuring that she can maintain her level of care long term. 

This was literally revolutionary to me. Up until meeting Dr. Padda, I did not have a mentor to model healthy habits after. And although she has not coached me directly in incorporating these habits, her daily question: “did you eat your lunch?” is enough of a reminder that I must take care of myself to be able to take care of others. 

Although I don’t wish for other premedical students to deal with the same consequences I have, I am so glad to have learned this lesson early on in my pre-professional career. 

As I have told many of my friends and family, being a good physician is not simply about getting the best test scores or spending the most hours in clinic. Being a good physician, therefore, is about being able to balance the needs of both oneself and one’s patients. 

This lesson extends to all college students. I hope that as you move forward in your academic and professional careers, you remember that the heart of your success is not solely made up of the work you do for others, but of the work you do for yourself. 

Take your lunch.

• academics
• balance
• food
• health
• premed
• self love
• success
• time management