The College of Optometrists recently welcomed more than 460 new optometrists to the profession at its 2023 diploma ceremony held at Westminster Abbey Hall. College president, Professor Leon Davis said: ‘Today marks a milestone in your careers and I hope it will be a day that you remember fondly forever. Your professional journeys begin now, and I look forward to seeing many of your names celebrated again at future college ceremonies, as each of you makes your mark on our profession.
'Your careers will make a positive difference to the lives of many patients, as you help to preserve and enhance their vision and their lives. There will be both challenges and opportunities along the way, and I wish each and every one of you the very best as you go forwards. Many congratulations to you all.’
I remember my own diploma ceremony, over 20 years ago, at the same venue. To give an indication of how things have changed since then, we don’t have any photos of the event because the ‘film an hour’ family camera became overexposed. Yes, that’s correct – no digital cameras and my phone was bereft of any photographic capability.
The quote from Prof Davies would be equally at home at my diploma ceremony as it was in 2023. However, I firmly believe our capability to help preserve and enhance people’s outcomes in terms of eye care and overall wellness has increased dramatically. Two years ago, I was on holiday in Tunisia.
It was a great holiday despite my wife, Sophie, having food poisoning for the last two days. I had been given a book called Make Your Bed by retired US Navy admiral William H McRaven. It was a number one New York Times bestseller. I think most books have something similar on their covers these days, but it was small book, with only 125 pages and reasonably large font at N10. I was glad I’d brought another paperback and had digital books on my iPad.
I finished it within about 90 minutes but it is a book that has played on my mind ever since. Make Your Bed originated following a speech the author gave for the graduating class from the University of Texas at Austin in 2024. It is formed around 10 lessons that he had learned from his military training that were equally applicable to the challenges of daily life. You can watch the speech on YouTube. In the book, the author simply laid out the lessons he had learned and why they were important in a very thought-provoking and impactful way.
I began to reflect as a human being, father, husband, colleague, clinician and as someone fortunate enough to be offered a platform to influence and share views and opinions about the lessons I’d learned in my personal and professional life. I wondered how I could better articulate and share these thoughts. The list goes on and on; reviewing it can be quite a cathartic exercise. You’ll be glad to know that I’m not going to share it today, we’d need a fair few more pages.
Prof Davies’ comment made me think back to that book and to the list I started that day detailing the main lessons I’ve learned, mainly from my mistakes, that could benefit those around me and help them to achieve better outcomes. I wondered what the one piece of advice I would give myself if I could travel back in time and speak to myself then – aside from buying stock in Google. The note that stood out as most applicable for that slightly arrogant 23-year-old would be: ‘Take responsibility for your own mistakes.’
I remember being very frustrated in my early career at any form of recheck, any form of dissatisfaction stemming from one of my ‘perfect prescriptions’. How could it be my fault? Surely it was the fault of the dispensing, the lab, the patient, etc. It didn’t take me long to realise this flaw in my approach, but it took longer than it should have.
Of course, this was born out of insecurity as a newly qualified clinician, as well as some of that ego. It’s an important lesson to learn that, sometimes, you get it wrong – and that is okay. The trick is to recognise it early, ask yourself the question ‘could it be me?’ For those on the Reddit website there is a great community to follow, though often not for the faint of heart, called ‘Am I the A**hole?’ where members share their circumstances and conundrums.
I’ve probably told versions of this story to 5,000 people by this stage in my career. I hope to have the opportunity to tell it to far more in the future and pose the question that regular readers will know always comes: What is it that you would share as a valuable lesson from your personal or professional life that is applicable to colleagues who look up to you or in the circle of family and friends?
Our experience and expertise as clinicians is huge. We share complex information with patients daily in a simple way that they can understand and appreciate. When is the last time you shared your story, the complex lessons that formed the 2023 version of you, simply laid out to a colleague who would value it? My plea to you is to make it soon. Let someone stand on your shoulders to be better themselves.
- Paul Morris is director of professional advancement at Specsavers UK & Ireland.