Transcending Burnout and Redefining My Aspirations

by Bryce Bowers DO

I always wanted a way out. Even at the young age of 10, something told me the way we were
living wasn’t right. My mom, charged with being a single parent and raising three kids, always
did her best to provide for us and show us unconditional love. But there is only so much one
person can do with three young children. We struggled. We moved a lot. There was a constant
lack of security. A constant sense of fear.

I had decided early on that I wanted my life to be different. Fortunately for me, my Uncle Mike
came into my life at the perfect time. The mentor that I still look up to this day, he was the role
model of success I needed. College educated, humble and hardworking, I thought if I just do
what he did, this could all end.

He provided me with the lifeline I needed. He pushed me to go to college and educate myself.
Nobody in my family had ever gone to college. The idea never crossed my mind, even as I
moved into my later teen years. “Education is the great equalizer,” he would tell me. “The only
thing you have to do is show up to class, and pay your tuition”.

I started at my local university, living in the dorms and embracing the freshman lifestyle. It did
not take long for me to understand that this was exactly the right place for me. I excelled in my
classes, where I was studying to be a psychologist (my friends always told me I gave great
advice, and said I was a good listener, so this was the career that made the most sense to me).
I could change the world by helping people with their personal problems. It seemed like perfect
harmony.

But my intuition at the time told me something wasn’t quite right. I began craving a greater
challenge, greater learning. I felt like I was just starting to unlock my potential as a student, both
in the classroom and in life. And in the background of growing up in poverty, I wanted to make
sure that I did everything in my power to have a better, more stable existence.

After consulting with my own family physician, who served much like a father figure to me, I
decided I was going to make a run at medical school. It would satisfy everything I wanted;
perhaps one of the biggest academic challenges a first generation college student could
undertake, but also a career that commands respect, nobility and a fairly lucrative salary.
I started at Michigan State with so much excitement. My enthusiasm, however, was soon curbed
as I came to understand the demands that come with medical education while competing
amongst some of the most brilliant minds I had ever come across. Like most of my colleagues,
my sense of “imposter syndrome” started early and showed up often.

But I persisted. I persevered. I had a dream and was motivated to change my life. Because of
that, I pushed myself to the limit each and every day. I approached the extremes of my
boundaries mentally, physically and emotionally. I depleted any and all reserves I had. “Grind
culture” permeates every aspect of medical training; I bought in fully.

I reached a critical point after taking my first set of board exams. The weight of this exam could
not be understated for us – it essentially dictated what specialty we as hopeful physicians could
go into. But it took everything from me. I remember walking out of the testing center and feeling
like I wanted to collapse. I had nothing left. The intensity of the past 2 years of medical
education left me feeling a way I have never felt before. A feeling of exasperation. A feeling of
resentment. Of anger. Of not caring about anything anymore.

I burned out. I had nothing left in my tank after those first two years and that exam. Yet, the
journey wasn’t over; if anything, it was just beginning as I entered into my clerkship years. While
I continued on with my studies, I began to lose sight of why I started this adventure in the first
place. My anxiety and depression were hovering over me constantly like a dark stormy cloud.
But I made nobody the wiser; the field of medicine demanded we put our own problems aside in
order to care for others. There was no time for such selfish endeavors – or at least I thought.
I began coping in any way I could. And while I did have some healthy mechanisms, like working
out and eating nutritiously, I began to use alcohol at an alarming rate to numb myself from the
pressures and demands of both life and academics.

I continued to ignore my deteriorating mental health, thinking it would all get better once I
graduated medical school and got into residency. I did both of those things in May of 2019, and I
shipped off to Naval Hospital Camp Pendleton, where I would begin my journey as a resident
physician in Family Medicine.

And that is where the wheels came off.

It is strange looking back now and realizing how naive I was to think all my problems would be
solved once I began training. They, in fact, would be amplified to a level I never thought
possible. I was nearly 2000 miles from my home in Michigan and my support system. I was in a
brand new environment with new responsibilities as both a Naval Officer and Resident
Physician. These were unparalleled pressures that I had not yet encountered. The icing on the
cake was the arrival of the COVID-19 pandemic, the shut down of the world and then ultimately,
the collapse of my being as I knew it.

My depression, anxiety and substance use reached a critical point that year. I struggled at a
level I didn’t know was possible. The problem was that I told absolutely nobody about how I was
honestly feeling. Whenever friends and family would call, I put on my best act to portray myself
as upbeat, positive and living my best life as a new physician in beautiful southern California.
But on the inside I felt a crushing sense of despair and agony that I would do anything to get rid
of. “I’m a physician” I thought to myself. “Why can’t I figure this out?”

And that was the problem. I figured everything in my life out to that point. Everything. I was a kid
from poverty who managed to become one of the most educated people in the world. Yet here I
was on the brink of collapse, silently suffering as I tried to survive just one more day.
But eventually, my day of reckoning came. I suffered a mental breakdown that required two of
my best friends as well as my mom and my older sister to fly out to California and drag me out
of bed. I had lost. I had given up. I had no desire to go on. I needed help.

It took a while, but eventually I was medically discharged from the military after completing my
intern year. In the meantime, I got the help I needed and got back to feeling like Bryce again. I
moved home to Michigan and took time to reflect on what I wanted. Did I want to go back to
medicine? Was I in a good enough place mentally to do that? What was it I now wanted in life?
I eventually came to the decision that I wanted to finish what I started. While working at a rural
health center as a practicing physician in a small town in Michigan, I reapplied to residency and
found my home again as a transfer in second year (PGY-2) at an amazing program in the
Detroit area.

When I applied, I shared my story and struggles, much like I am now. I knew going back to
medicine this time would have to be different. Who I was when I started this journey was much
different than who I am now. While I knew my dream was still to finish my training and become a
practicing physician, I felt called to do more than just that.

And that is why you are reading what I am writing today. I have discovered a profound passion
for advocating for mental health of healthcare workers and especially physicians. I share my
story and struggles in order to help normalize the conversation around mental health in our field.
I see everyday that my colleagues face the same mental health challenges that I did, yet are
reluctant to talk about it or get help. While I understand this thought pattern better than just
about anyone, it is my goal to change the narrative so that nobody – physician or otherwise –
finds themselves in the place of despair I was in.

Admittedly, it is difficult to engage in this level of vulnerability. It is difficult sharing this degree of
personal and sensitive information. I know, however, that someone, somewhere will be
impacted positively by it. And that alone is enough for me to continue doing so.

So I write. I started a blog, known as “Badge of Burnout”, with the idea that we all need to stop
wearing our burnout as some sort of badge of honor. I have started doing public speaking in my
area to raise awareness, share my story and do my part to help others. I want to start a podcast.
I want to write a book. I want to connect with others. These ideas are exciting to me. It’s what
gets me out of bed in the morning.

I find myself now about 7 months from graduating residency. I would not change my past for
anything. It was necessary for me to become who I am today and I am so thankful and grateful
for that. As I near the completion of my training, my mission to help people with my medical
skills remains unchanged. What has changed, however, is that I now understand things must be
different not only for me, but all of us. We must take care of ourselves in order to take care of
others. It is imperative to understand that in some way, we are all struggling, and therefore
deserve compassion, understanding and love. My goal is to continue to remind everyone that
you are a human first, and a doctor, nurse, physical therapist or whatever second.
Take care of yourself. Love yourself. Get help if you need it. Speak up. Be brave. Be
courageous. You may change not only the course of your own life, but somebody else’s as well.
I can guarantee you that is a level of satisfaction unlike any you will ever experience.

BIO

I grew up in Kalamazoo, Michigan. I was raised by my mom along with my two sisters, one
younger and one older. I did my undergraduate degree at Western Michigan University and then
medical school at the Michigan State University College of Osteopathic Medicine. A current 3rd
year (PGY-3) family medicine resident, my passions are physician wellness and talking about
burnout. In my free time, I watch any and all sports, weight lift and enjoy writing in my blog and
connecting with people to hear their stories.

Comments