Pain as a rite of passage: Why does the sadomasochism of medicine continue?
My grandfather was a GP in country NSW in the 1930s and ’40s, back when a GP was the Swiss Army knife of doctors: the one who could do it all.
He was constantly on call — delivering babies, tending to sick children, taking out burst appendixes — doggedly looking after the entire population of his country town, 24/7.