The Anxious Teacher
Most people do not realise it, but I sometimes feel anxious when I have medical students attached to my clinic. Don’t get me wrong—I really love teaching. I enjoy explaining how I arrive at a diagnosis, why I choose certain investigations, and how I decide on management. But in orthopaedics, our clinical routines can feel repetitive and mundane.
A patient comes with knee pain. I take a brief history, do a quick physical examination, order an X-ray, and, if indicated—perhaps due to effusion or instability—an MRI. By the fifth patient, I often find myself repeating the same process again and again. And then the thought comes: Is the student even learning anything? Am I value-adding to their lives?
The Fear of Perception
Beneath this lies a deeper insecurity: What do the students think of me?
Am I just a robot who orders scans? Have I shattered the glamorous facade of being a sports surgeon, exposing the reality that much of our work is about investigations, reassurance, and conservative management?
My excitement grows when a surgical case appears and I can show them the process of consent and preparation—but many clinics yield no such cases. And so the struggle becomes clear. The problem is not the students, nor the casemix. The problem is my heart—my fixation on how I am being perceived.
A Lesson in Sovereignty
But here is the truth: God is sovereign over the casemix of my clinic, and He is sovereign over what the students see and learn each day. By resting in Him, I can free myself from the fear of perception. I can be transparent with my students, showing them that surgery is only 10% of what we do.
Most patients do not need an operation—they need counsel, encouragement, and assurance. That too is orthopaedics.
How should the Christian think about this?
— ✂️ CUT FOR SUBSTACK ✂️ —
Teaching the Reality
Perhaps the most valuable lesson I can offer is not in the “cool cases” but in the reality: medicine is about faithfulness in the ordinary, not just glory in the extraordinary.
This is not just true for doctors, but for every Christian vocation. The world loves to glamorize the spectacular, but the bulk of our calling is lived in the unseen, repetitive, and ordinary. Whether it is in the clinic, at home, in the office, or on the field, much of life is about showing up faithfully, even when it feels mundane.
And this is deeply biblical. Scripture reminds us that whatever we do—whether in word or deed—we are to do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus (Colossians 3:17). God does not despise the small, routine, or ordinary. He sanctifies it. In fact, it is often in the mundane that our faithfulness is tested, and our witness most clearly seen.
So perhaps the real gift I can give my students is not a curated, glamorous picture of orthopaedics, but an honest window into what it means to be faithful in medicine. To show them that even in the repetitive consultations, God is present, patients are valued, and the work matters.
And in doing so, I too am reminded: my worth is not in what the students think of me, but in Christ, who has called me to be faithful where He has placed me.