Both my father and grandfather were general surgeons in our small South Georgia town. Despite this tradition I entered medical school expecting to end up in another, unspecified, specialty. I am not entirely sure why, probably a residual carryover from adolescent rebellion. However, this mind set changed during my third year of school during our first clinical rotations. I appreciated all of them and admired most of my physician teachers who were skilled and empathetic with their patients. I began my surgery rotation ready to learn but still convinced it would not be my final professional home. Wrong! I had found my place.

I was impacted by two observations. First, I was enthralled by what took place in the operating room. More about this in my next blog. The other finding was how much I felt at home with and in the presence of surgeons. I not only liked what they did, I liked how they thought and interacted. The common cliché is that surgeons are arrogant and over-confident, even cocky. While that description may fit some, overall it was not my experience. I found them to be quick thinkers, appropriately confident and decisive. You don’t want your surgeon to be indecisive or tentative. These qualities appealed to me. In addition, I meshed with their personalities. I still had to choose a specialty but I had found the culture in which I could happily spend my life.

That conclusion was correct. Interacting with my colleagues and sharing a surgical life with them was something I’ll always be grateful for. And that experience is something I look back fondly on while in retirement. But I completed a satisfactory arc from medical student to surgical resident to a career in academic thoracic surgery. That book is closed. I could not be more contented than I am now, having more time to spend and do things with my amazing and lovely wife.