Over lunch we talked about cycling. A week later, he was gone. Physicians have some of the highest suicide rates of any profession, yet silence is still called “professionalism.” This culture is killing us. It’s time we tell the truth — and break the silence.
I held hearts. I fixed hearts. Then, in a single moment, I lost the career that defined me. This is the story I’ve never shared publicly — of silence, pain, and the cost of pretending you’re unbreakable. Maybe it’s time we speak from the heart.
I entered medicine to learn how to heal. What I found was an apprenticeship in human suffering. Machines may diagnose or operate, but they can’t hold space for grief or restore meaning. True healing begins with presence — seeing the person behind the pain.
Medicine can feel like a spell — pushing us past our limits until something breaks. Over 60% of clinicians live with chronic pain, but we push through, protecting identity over health. I know the cost. Is this resilience — or a warning? It’s time to name the culture and choose healing.