The Marvels of Medicine

So, if you’ve watched Married to Medicine then you must know exactly what it isn’t like to be married to a Doctor. 

Young Doctor life, at least, is trying on the entire family. There’s not much that’s too glamorous about it, it’s hard work with long hours and little appreciation. 

Young Doctor’s often complain about the salaries, as they’re not particularly high, given that it’s a 6 year degree with a further 3-7 year training period for specialisation. Let’s just say my little job managing a couple of multimillion dollar luxury fashion boutiques paid tens of thousands of dollars more than my partner’s current role as a senior Resident. 

Now, I’m definitely not going to start crying poor, because I know that many in their careers will work extremely hard for tens of years and earn much less money. I worked with numerous marketing interns working 5 days a week for months on end with no pay at all, vying just for the opportunity to work in such a prestigious fashion house. 

We appreciate everything that we have. 

Obviously, given that not many people want to work in the rural Australian countryside, Doctors are expected to do several training rotations in some of the most secluded areas of the country. For overseas trained Doctors, like my partner, there is also a 10 year moratorium, which means that most specialists need to practice in a regional town deemed a district of workforce shortage. 

These restrictions are clearly a huge challenge for a woman that’s forged a solid career in Luxury Fashion management over the last decade.

So here we are, in my second year in Regional Australia, professional Mummy and Doctor’s better half… working through the many trials and tribulations of housewife duties. 

The hardest part of transitioning from career woman to housewife? Feeling productive and also challenging the stereotypes of being a housewife and Doctor’s partner. 

You see, since I moved away from my former career and life I have had to endure endless dimwitted comments, usually from Doctors or wives of Doctors, suggesting that I have left my so called career in fashion to cash in on my partners winning ticket career.

Comments like ‘you’ll be alright when you’re husband’s making more money than you ever could’. 

I bite my tongue and pray that I don’t say what’s on my mind: I left a job earning up to twice as much as you’re earning. I’m here to support the father of my child in following his dreams.

The winning ticket is the father of my child going to work everyday to help people. A rewarding career, plagued with burnout and mental illness due to the nature of the work. 

The winning ticket is our daughter, healthy, happy, strong.