The Story of a Career Change

I once heard about someone who left surgical training because the anxiety was overwhelming. He became a general practitioner instead. Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with changing careers. Sometimes we discover that another path is better suited for us. And neither is it wrong to step away from a vocation that seems to crush us under stress. Mental health is important.

Yet, it made me wonder: does changing jobs really solve the root of anxiety? A person may leave one role for another, but the same anxious struggles can still follow them into their new work.

The Nature of Surgical Anxiety

Surgery is undeniably stressful. When a general surgeon performs an anastomosis, there is no way of knowing whether it will hold until days later. For orthopaedics, I may perform a technically sound procedure, give all the prophylactic antibiotics, and yet I cannot guarantee my patient will not develop an infection.

When a wound heals slowly, the anxiety intensifies. I find myself tossing in bed, unable to sleep. I send daily messages to patients: “How’s the wound today? Any pain? Any fever?” I care about their recovery, but beneath that concern lies a gnawing restlessness.

This anxiety is real. And I cannot deny it.

The Deeper Question

But the real issue is not simply that I feel anxious. The more pressing question is why. Why does my heart tighten at the thought of a complication? Why does my peace unravel when outcomes fall short of perfection?

At first glance, the answer seems noble: I care deeply for my patients. Their well-being matters to me. And yes, that is true. But if I am brutally honest, that is not the full story.

The real source of my anxiety lies in how complications affect me. How will the patient see me? How will their family and friends speak of me? Will my reputation as a surgeon suffer in the sports community?

Anxiety exposes pride. My concern for patient outcomes becomes entangled with my concern for my own image and identity.

So the real question we must ask is this:

How should the Christian think about this?

— ✂️ CUT FOR SUBSTACK ✂️ —

Freedom from Fearful Compulsion

For me, the turning point is remembering that my identity is not built on surgical success or a flawless reputation. Before God, my worth is not measured by the absence of complications. My worth is secure in Christ, who died and rose for me.

When God looks at me, He does not see a surgeon who anxiously clings to approval. He sees Christ. This truth frees me. I can now genuinely care for my patients—not out of fearful compulsion, but out of love.

I no longer need to be enslaved to the thought: “What if they think less of me?” Instead, I can ask: “How can I serve them well, regardless of how the outcome reflects on me?”

A Higher Calling

This shift does not remove the challenges of surgery. Complications still come. Anxieties still whisper in the night. But when I anchor my worth in Christ, I am released from the need to prove myself.

I can enter the operating theatre not to secure my identity, but to glorify God and bless others. That is the higher calling He invites me into.