I love being an academic pediatrician. I didn’t start out to do that; I thought I would be writing novels and working part-time in an inner-city clinic. I wrote with Robert Penn Warren in college and my first (and only) novel was published when I was a senior in medical school. But things don’t always turn out the way you expect them to. In my case, I didn’t expect to be tossed aside and ignored once I turned 65 and retired from my University of New Mexico position.
If you were chair of a department of pediatrics, or head of a search committee, or in charge of hiring for your practice or your federally qualified health center, whom would you rather hire? A 65-year-old retired distinguished professor or a 35 year old with 30 years of potential work ahead of them? That’s the obstacle I’m now facing, and I really can’t blame people for choosing the latter. Age discrimination? Not really. Just plain common sense.
At the same time, I like to think I’m better than any 35 year old — certainly better than when I was 35. I know more, I’m wiser, more sensitive. I’m better clinically than I was 10 or 20 or 30 years ago. I know how to examine babies and children and adolescents and how to talk to their parents. I’m pleased with my progress, even though it has taken years! Having my own children has helped immensely, but I’ve also learned from my many mistakes. But now it seems that it’s all going to waste.
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