The beautiful exhaustion of primary care
I’ve been reflecting lately because, honestly, I feel like I am—finally—good at primary care. With experience, patience, and, dare I say, wisdom, I experience satisfaction, knowing I can do this job. I’m the real McCoy. Or, in my case, the real McCarthy. And despite this, maybe because of this, the effort required often leaves me incapable of doing much else.
At 47 years old, having survived a pandemic, having found my …