I recently read a press release announcing a physician as the new head of a regional health system. Among his accomplishments were six consecutive “Top Doctor” citations and a long list of other accolades. Closer to the end of my career than the beginning, I found myself taking stock of my accomplishments. My trophy case looked decidedly sparse in comparison, and I started to question my legacy and impact.
My trophy case was not completely empty. There were a few accolades along the way in medical school and residency. I spent the majority of my career working in a small-town, two-physician, single-specialty practice, where there was never much focus on winning trophies. This never bothered me, as awards were never a primary motivation. My goal was to do the best for the patient in front of me whether in the clinic or OR and improve my skills over time.
As the only otolaryngology practice in the community and county, no one ever asked to see our trophy case, and there was never much of a need to promote accolades. Rewards were positive outcomes, thank-yous, and continued referrals. While these intangibles continued to fuel and motivate, they did not show up on my CV. Over time, my sparse trophy case gathered dust, but I never noticed.
After sixteen years in private practice, burnout began to creep in. I needed a change of scenery and switched to the local academic center. I was proud of what I accomplished and built in private practice, but there was no plaque to commemorate that chapter of my career.
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In academia, I was surrounded by talented colleagues whose innovative and groundbreaking work earned many well-deserved honors. There were long CVs and an emphasis on academic advancement and promotion. My trophy case became a focal point of comparison as I met with my chairman for yearly reviews. Looking at the empty space, I felt I was underperforming and falling behind in the race.
Regardless of how awards are chosen, they become visible symbols of accomplishment. They provide reward and motivation, boost profiles, and help build CVs. A full trophy case can become a tangible marker of impact and legacy. Without many awards to display, I began to question the success of my own career and how to define it.
There are many internal and external measures of career success, and we each get to choose and prioritize our own. During a coaching session, I realized I had been judging myself by a measure of success I had never set out to achieve. I was failing at winning trophies. Not being on the medal stand may occasionally sting, but becoming a top doctor never required winning a trophy. The goals we set for ourselves provide a more personal measure of achievement, and I had accomplished nearly all of mine. That is the scorecard that mattered most. My external practice environment may have changed, but my internal compass of success had not.
I took another hard look at my trophy case. Inside were diplomas and certificates, which still mattered. There was also plenty of open space where I could define success on my terms, guided by my values. Space where I could place my own plaque with my own inscription. Even if no one else sees it, I know it’s there.
Jayson Greenberg is an otolaryngologist.
