Two Years Away. What Happens When You Go Back?

After two years of advanced training in Toronto, I returned to the hospital where much of my professional life began. What awaited me was something I had not fully anticipated.

Returning to Beilinson after two years in Toronto was supposed to be a professional homecoming. I was returning to the hospital where I had spent much of my medical career, to familiar corridors, a familiar cath lab, and colleagues with whom I had shared years of professional and personal experiences.

I expected the transition to take some time. I knew that things would have changed while I was away, and I had changed too. What I did not fully anticipate was how much the way I was welcomed back would mean to me.

My professional journey began at Beilinson, where I completed my internship. I then moved to Meir Medical Center for my internal medicine residency before returning to Beilinson for my general cardiology fellowship and, subsequently, my in-house interventional cardiology fellowship. After years of training and working in Israel, I left for Toronto to pursue an advanced fellowship in interventional cardiology. It was an opportunity to learn from a different medical system, encounter new approaches, and challenge myself professionally.

Before I left, one of the senior interventional cardiologists gave me an advice that stayed with me. He encouraged me to disconnect from the cath lab while I was away. I should not forget the people or the work, he told me, but I should allow myself to immerse fully in the new experience rather than constantly looking back at what I had left behind.

I took that advice seriously. I remained in touch with friends and colleagues, of course, but I rarely discussed work or asked about life in the cath lab. I wanted to be present in Toronto, to make the most of the opportunity, and to give myself the space to grow.

And I did. The fellowship was an important period of professional development, and our family built a meaningful life in Canada. We made friends, explored a new country, and experienced a different pace of life.

But returning to a place that has been such an important part of your life is different from leaving it. Before my first day back, I found myself wondering how it would feel. Would I slip back into the familiar rhythm? Would the relationships feel the same? Would I still feel that I belonged in the way I remembered?

I was not worried that anyone would treat me badly. My concern was more personal: sometimes, when we return to something we have missed, we build expectations that reality cannot quite meet. I hoped that the connections I had carried with me through two years abroad would still be there, waiting for me.

My first day back answered that question in a way I had not expected.

The welcome was extraordinary. Friends and colleagues came to greet me with warmth, excitement, and genuine affection. There were embraces, enthusiastic conversations, and an unmistakable feeling that my return mattered to the people around me. I can only compare the experience to a bride on her wedding day: for a little while, you find yourself at the center of everyone’s attention, surrounded by people who are genuinely happy to see you.

My boss and mentor of nearly a decade had arranged a personalized cake to welcome me back. He and I have shared quite a few interests over the years, with sports being one of them, and he remembered that I am a huge Boston Celtics fan. The cake featured the Celtics logo and a clear welcome-back message. It was a thoughtful, personal touch that made the occasion even more special. After nearly ten years of working together, it was a reminder of the kind of relationship we had built – one that extended well beyond the cath lab and the day-to-day demands of medicine. It was a small detail that made the welcome back feel distinctly personal.

There was also something unmistakably Israeli about the way I was welcomed back. We Israelis have a particular way of expressing affection: openly, enthusiastically, and sometimes with an intensity that can catch you off guard. The boundaries between colleagues, friends, and family are often less defined than they might be elsewhere. We can argue passionately over a clinical decision, disagree about almost anything, and still embrace each other warmly a few minutes later. There is an informality and spontaneity to these relationships that can make a workplace feel like an extension of your family. Standing there on my first day back, surrounded by so much genuine affection, I was reminded of how much I had missed not just the people, but this distinctly Israeli way of being together.

By the end of that first day, I felt something I hadn’t been sure I would feel: that I was right where I belonged.

The experience in Toronto General Hospital (TGH) had been professionally and personally rewarding, and I was fortunate to work with excellent physicians and colleagues there. My two years at TGH had been an important chapter in my professional life. I was grateful for the opportunity, for what I had learned, and for the people I had worked with along the way. But as I prepared to return to Israel, I felt ready to close that chapter and move on to the next one. I was leaving Toronto with a great deal of appreciation for the experience, and with a clear sense that it was time to bring what I had gained back to Beilinson.

That first day reminded me that professional growth and a sense of belonging are not competing priorities. I had gone to Toronto to learn, to challenge myself, and to become a better interventional cardiologist. I returned with new knowledge and experience, but also with a renewed appreciation for the people and relationships that had shaped my journey.

Our decision to return to Israel had been shaped by many considerations, as I wrote in my previous post. There were questions of identity, family, belonging, and the kind of future we wanted to build for our children. There was also my desire to bring home the experience I had gained abroad and continue contributing to the medical community that had helped shape me.

My first day back at Beilinson did not answer all the questions that come with returning to a country after living abroad. It did not make the challenges of life in Israel disappear, nor did it mean that the transition would always be easy. But it gave me something personal and reassuring: a reminder that I was returning not just to a job or a hospital, but to people with whom I shared a history and a sense of belonging.

We often talk about career development in terms of training, experience, technical skills, and professional achievements. These things matter enormously, particularly in a field like interventional cardiology, where learning never really ends. But our professional lives are also shaped by the people who teach us, challenge us, support us, and make us feel that we are part of something larger than ourselves.

I left Israel to grow professionally. I returned grateful for what I had learned, proud of the experience I had gained, and reminded of the importance of the people waiting for me at home.

Sometimes, coming home is not about discovering that everything is exactly as you left it. It is about discovering that, despite the time and distance, your place among the people who matter to you is still there.

On my first day back in the cath lab, surrounded by familiar faces, warm embraces, and a cake prepared in my honor, I understood something that had been difficult to put into words before I returned.

I had not simply come back to work.

I had come home.