‘Change Takes Courage.’ — Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-NY
Editor-In-Chief, Chester “Trip” Buckenmaier III, MD, COL (ret.), MC, USA
I am tapping out this editorial on my 60th birthday in May. I prefer the annual and unavoidable nonevent—which is the date of my birth—to go by quietly and without too much hoopla. Family and friends have been asking if I feel any different at 60. I have responded that it seems no different from how I felt yesterday at 59. That is not to suggest I have not noticed the changes to my appearance associated with aging as I gaze in the mirror. I have no idea where all the gray hair is coming from (damned barber) or why less of it seems to be growing on my head but has sprouted with renewed aggressive vigor from my nose and ear canals (God does have a sense of humor). Birthdays are not important beyond an annual reminder to reflect on the changes in one’s life that have occurred during one revolution of the Earth around the Sun.
May is notable for the preponderance of graduations that will occur this month. Pam and I will be celebrating the marriage of our middle daughter, Hannah, this May. That is an event worthy of a party and remembrance. What both events have in common is the significant change occurring in someone’s life. We commemorate graduations in appreciation of the labor and toil individuals have demonstrated to broaden the scope of their minds. We celebrate marriage as the union of two souls for the power of dealing with life’s challenges as a team, especially when children are involved. These events represent a significant and permanent change in the trajectory of a life. As Congresswoman Ocasio-Cortez notes, courage is required for change. People embracing change are worthy of celebrating and honoring the courage being displayed.
Just before my birthday, Pam and I completed over 2,000 miles of sailing from Chesapeake Bay to the Dry Tortugas and back again. It was our shakedown cruise after beginning our new lifestyle as full-time cruisers (we cannot say “live-aboards” because you are typically labeled as a modern version of the Clampetts—sorry, youngsters, Google it). What has made this ordinary day marking my birth special is my reflections on the change this trip has engendered in us. As Pam puts it, “We are sailors now.” Of course, we both have been “sailing” our entire lives, but doing it full-time out in the Atlantic Ocean is something, well, remarkable. Since I retired from federal medicine, the “change” in our lives has been colossal, to the chagrin of family and friends. Our kids have no choice but to be successful because there is no coming back home. Mom and Dad sold the family home, and our children are never exactly sure where we will be tomorrow.
Despite the many advantages of our lifestyle (check out TimBuckTwoBlog.Com for details), it has taken considerable courage from both Pam and me to escape the traditional “sticks’n bricks” lifestyle expected of the retired. I am proud of the courage displayed by my spouse on ink-black nights of passage, far from land, well beyond the reach of a cellphone signal. I am happy to have been running the boat for months without breaking anything (well, mostly). For 35 years, we both dreamed of committing ourselves to the cruising lifestyle, and I am so pleased we dared to turn talk into action.
Throughout my working life as a medical leader, I constantly reminded co-workers and resident physicians that the only thing they could be sure of was “change.” It was the only thing I got right 100% of the time. Admittedly, I was hard on my residents (sorry, but not sorry) and would look for opportunities to mess with their routines and insert change into any clinical situation we faced. Despite the grief I likely caused them, I felt vindicated and happy with my educational performance if I could get a resident to admit at day’s end that they had learned something new. I was never there to be a friend; I was there to be the “change” agent so that they could find the courage to act when overwhelming change—as seen in war—was upon them.
So much in our federal medicine system is excellent and worthy of emulation. We can all be proud of the system we have inherited and improved. That said, much in the system needs to change for the better. Every construct involving humans is flawed and really never finished. I doubt any reader of this column actively engaged in federal medicine would be hard-pressed to define an area in their workspace that would benefit from some change. Humans, by nature, tend to shy away from change. The status quo is easy, comfortable and well-rehearsed. Then again, nobody ever got into the history books screaming, “Do nothing different!” Finding the courage to push for change has made all the difference in my life. Granted, I have not won any popularity contests, but I have a career worth remembering on my birthday. Find the courage to seek change in your own space. You can blame me for the idea. I am retired.
