Dr. Samantha Hill, a Toronto cardiac surgeon with a background in epidemiology, community health and education, was recently installed as the 139th President of the Ontario Medical Association. Dr. Hill’s installation took place during the first-ever virtual OMA Council Meeting – a groundbreaking event attended by more than 280 Delegates, Board Directors, observers, and supported by a cross-functional team of OMA staff who delivered a seamless event. Dr. Hill’s inaugural address to members is reproduced below.
It’s an honour to be following in the footsteps of truly impressive physician leaders like Sohail Gandhi, Nadia Alam, and others. Sir Isaac Newton quoted 12th century theologian John of Salisbury “we are like dwarfs sitting on the shoulders of giants… They raise us up and by their great stature add to ours.” I would not be here without their support, mentorship and tutelage. To Sohail, in particular, I say, thank you for steering us calmly through so many crises in a single year, and leaving such a giant void to fill.
It was Charles Dickens who said: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Of another time, place, and crisis of course, but still.
The whole quote resonates: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
Our society is seized by a medical and public health crisis I never foresaw. Most of us never did.
It has threatened our lives and personal safety. Worse, it has threatened our families and loved ones. And these are only the most obvious of threats.
It has threatened our mental health. At a time when member burnout is already at an all-time high, for many of us, the challenges brought by COVID-19 threaten to overwhelm.
To our junior colleagues – still trying to find their way in this system – now struggling with a plethora of additional challenges, and less mentorship and guidance than you may have foreseen: I see you rise to this challenge.
To the single parents juggling your children and patient duties, with the new challenge of social isolation: I see you, you are not alone.
To the sandwich generation, desperately trying to keep grandparents and children safe and connected, while safely separated: I see you, too.
To our senior physicians who, after dedicating a lifetime to the service of the people and communities of Ontario, are now struggling with the Sophie’s Choice of caring for others versus caring for yourselves: I see you.
I see all of you, all of us.
Your concerns are valid.
Your emotions are valid.
Your fear and angst and anger are valid.
As your spokesperson and President: I see you all.
This crisis has threatened our fiscal stability. After years of budget cuts, and inflation rising faster than the Schedule of Benefits, there’s simply no more wiggle room. Too many of us have spent the last several weeks wondering if we can afford to keep our clinics open, wondering if we can afford to pay our mortgages, worrying about all the people who rely upon us to pay them.
I first got involved with the OMA when a short-sighted and intransigent government tried to balance their books on the backs of physicians. I wanted stronger ties between grassroots members and OMA leadership, more sound fiscal management of our health care system, and a recognition of challenges within the profession with a focus on member well-being. I find myself reliving those days.
The last four years, we have tried to come together, repeatedly, to make things better. To enact change. To build transparency and trust. To build unity. We are not done. We may be tired, bloodied, and yes fearful, but we are not done. It is not yet enough.
We are not done with COVID-19. We are not done with governance restructuring. And we are not done engaging members. At a time when the Ministry of Health feels we can be ignored, at a time when so many members feel ignored, it is not yet enough.
When I spoke last year, I promised to never stop fighting for all of us, to never stop leaning in. I asked you all to join me in being bold, daring greatly, and accomplishing great things together.
I knew they were big promises. I knew it was a big ask. None of us knew how big. I have heard you, my colleagues, crying out at the lack of PPE. And I cry with you. I have heard you rail at the fiscal injustice of it all, and I rail at your side.
I have seen you hold your patients’ hands from a distance, keep your clinics open at personal risk and loss, and continue to show up. And I have shown up beside you, and cheered for you. Because, and here’s the most important part, we are all in this incredible, terrible time together.
And no matter how awful it may feel at times – no matter how these may be the worst of times – they are also the times that have brought out the best in doctors.
I won’t talk to you about being superheroes or soldiers – I don’t care for those analogies. We don’t have superpowers. We aren’t invincible. And I won’t allow us to be used as cannon fodder.
We are a community of highly trained professionals, with intrinsic and ingrained ethics, who show up, and do our job, alongside so many others. I chose medicine because I wanted to help people. We all did!
I have seen the best of us here in these days. Doctors stepping out of their comfort zones, talking to media, talking to government, treating patients with diseases they haven’t studied since medical school. Doctors stepping up, and showing up, despite personal risk. Because, as a community, as a whole, that’s what we do.
We are used to working in inter-related fields. We are accustomed to knowing where our expertise ends and someone else begins. As the potential for redeployment loomed, my family doc friends asked me about ACLS guidelines, and my surgical colleagues asked me about preventative care, and it became clear that these lines, lines by which we have defined our lives and careers, were getting very hazy.
Would we be redeployed? If we were, did we know enough? Did we have enough support? It was harrowing, all of it.
But the thing is – the thing that brought moments of peace, solace and comfort – is knowing that we are all in this together.
Were I redeployed to an emergency room, COVID-19 ward, ICU, or long-term care, I know, without a fraction of a doubt, that my colleagues, my brothers and sisters in this community, this family we call medicine, would be right there beside me and behind me – just as I am for you.
No one succeeds in this life, or in this career, alone. And now, more than ever, we need to trust and support each other. We need each other. Our patients depend on us, together.
I’m not naive. I know there are immense hurdles and challenges ahead. I know that our health care system, as we know it, is at risk.
I know that my colleagues – our members – are struggling to get through the days, weeks and months yet ahead. But I also know that our patients still need the amazing care you offer routinely. I know this, and I know you.
So in these challenging times, I promise you yet again: I will never stop fighting for ALL of us.
Prior to COVID-19, my key priorities this year were:
These are important, and I remain dedicated to them. But it appears we must also again fight the battles of educating the public and the government, standing strong in the face of a Goliath, and protecting our health care system. Because if not us, then who? With humility, I will take these forward, on behalf of us all. Win, lose or draw, I will never stop betting on physicians, and I will never stop fighting for all of us.
So stay safe out there, my friends and colleagues. The winter of despair will give way to the spring of hope. The sun will rise and the season of darkness will give way to a new season of light.
We shall see each other again, in person, soon.
Dr. Samantha Hill
OMA President