This was difficult to read in the best way. You didn’t just describe trauma, you brought us inside the quiet spaces where it lives long after the chart is closed. That’s the part medical training rarely prepares anyone for. The procedural checklists are endless, but no one really tells you how to sit with another person’s grief, or your own, when there’s nothing more to fix.
The boy with no face, the girl in the ICU, the parents in shock. I kept thinking about how often young doctors are expected to absorb tragedy without being taught how to process it. It becomes muscle memory to power through, but that comes at a cost. I know that silence. I’ve felt that disconnect.
I don’t think your younger self failed. I think he showed up the best way he knew how at the time. The fact that you still carry these moments, still give them weight, is what makes you the kind of doctor people hope to meet on their worst day.
Empathy isn’t something you’re handed in orientation. It grows in the spaces where you feel like you said the wrong thing, or not enough. Thanks for writing this the way you did. You gave those two kids a name again. You gave their parents a room full of readers who might understand a little more now. And you reminded all of us how much of healing happens when we stop trying to solve and start listening.
Wow. Jeff, it took a lot of courage to write this article with such honesty and vulnerability. Powerful. People aren’t aware the awesome responsibility that comes with being an anesthesiologist. I just came back from my niece’s “Match Day” which, as you know Jeff, tells the student where they will be doing their residency. She chose anesthesiology. I hope her residency program offers some type of skilled training in counseling and empathy when dealing with patients and their families. I’m sorry you weren’t afforded such an opportunity and had the counseling part on the fly. You clearly already had the empathy. I hope you can fully forgive your younger yourself. I’m certain the family has. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading John. This whole series, all three stories was kind of a redemption arc and really cathartic to write. It’s a really long read to go from the prologue to the end, and am hoping to publish it in some forum where I can do that. Now if only I knew someone who writes books…hmmmm? Who could that be?? Bueller? Anyone?
As far as the family, I never saw them again as they purposelessly avoided me and I them. I hope they did obtain some measure of peace. The same with the boy. I wish I knew what became of him.
I really appreciate your taking the time to read it!
Jeff, this story warrants a second- and maybe third-read, but my initial reaction was to see my brother’s oncologist through different eyes. My brother recently passed after a too-brief battle with Gallbladder cancer, and I was with him the morning that an oncologist gave him the “official” news that we all expected. I have wondered how he managed to deliver that news over and again to families - so calm, so factual - and not react to the pained replies. I think now that he was practicing the empathy that he had learned somehow, somewhere in his practice.
I admire your vulnerability in telling these stories.
Also, so sorry about your brother. I can’t imagine a world without my siblings. Telling families bad news is an art form and an act of grace. It takes a long time to get both comfortable and good with it. Oncologists are by the nature of their job usually very good at doing that.
Hi Jeff, Thank you for sharing these heartbreaking stories. Reading them transported me back to my own residency and a reliving of some of the times i felt over my head because i was alone and no one had talked about these experiences. Yes we do eventually learn how to respond to grieving families and dying patients but it is a shame we have to "practice" on so many people before we get it right.
Hey Pat! Thanks so much for reading. I am back to writing more regularly which feels good. How are you doing?! Give my best to Dov and stop by to say hi sometime!
I still don’t think I have got it right yet, but it’s so
Much better than 30 years ago! I am hoping that training some of the more empathetic arts has gotten better. I have noticed a huge increase in the number of women over the past few decades and a modernization of many attitudes. All the best!
I’m a retired criminal defense lawyer. I feel the same way about some clients. I’ve come to accept that they live with me, embedded there by their crimes, their personalities, or the terror and injustice of their lives. The burdens feel so heavy when we carry them alone. Thanks for sharing. I don’t think of doctors as beings with compassion.
Jeffrey, really enjoyed this. I almost felt I was in the room with you as you silently assessed your colleagues and teammates, while doing your level best to doctor to perfection. Indeed, what a dance you must do every day. And how hard to learn the dance when just out of school! We'll done!
Thanks as always for reading it Tom! Next story is in the works about my Dad, set in 1963 when he was in the Navy!
Residency was tough, but it’s one of the many growing pain steps to becoming a competent doctor. I have mixed feelings about how unnecessarily hard it was and I am glad it has become somewhat easier for current residents. There are many more stories buried within me and I will do my best to make them see the light of day!
I found you because I follow your sister, a wonderful person to me, she has given me so much knowledge by making me aware of persons I would not have found without her. You are another treasure. My husband retired as a family practitioner after 40 years. He was such a fine diagnostician. I am a retired RN who had a career as an ergonomist, as my love has always been human movement, self-knowing and physiology. Thank you for taking the time to write this piece of biography. Having spent some time in a medical center (Ohio State) albeit decades ago, I followed your observations carefully. You were able to careen my emotions from laughter to tears, as you nailed the medical caste system from student to attending (OH! The attending), to the fragile dying girl and the incomprehensible faceless young man. I hope to read more from you here. The painting you attached is quite beautiful. We watched the Pitt,and thought it wonderful. Best day to you in these troubling times.
Beverly, thank you so much for reading this story. As you may suspect, it was a tough one to write (they all are!). An ergonomist! That is a wonderful word and even more a wonderful profession. I don’t know if you read my precious story “dys-trophy” about my personal diagnosis of muscular dystrophy and all that it entails. I need a good ergonomist in my life!
I will pass along your comments to Kara. She is truly a remarkable person and I am so lucky to have her as my sister. We live in trying times and I often reassure myself that people like Kara exist to help us get through things.
Thanks again for reading, and hope to get a new story out soon!
I will look for your story re: dystrophy. I am happy to consult digital if helpful. The sun is shining here in portland today and the air feels as it did in the 70’s before drought. Off to find foodstuffs for the loves in my life for tonight’s dinner. So happy to have found you. I hope your day is stellar and your breath is deep and long.
What a powerful set of recollections Jeff. I can only begin to imagine how cathartic it must have been for you to write about each. Your sharing them is a gift. It is prompting me to reflect on and come to terms with pivotal moments in my life that I wish I had handled differently. I’m finding it unsettling, even painful but therapeutic to do so. Thank you for this.
BTW, your bedside manner as the anesthesiologist presiding over my laparoscopic cholecystectomy—before, during and after—could not have been better. You exuded much empathy delivered with a healthy dose of humor which kept my anxiety at bay. For that I am grateful.
Please keep writing and sharing my friend. Thanks again.
What a powerful and eye opening confession. Telling the stiries of your doomed payients inside the layers of details, training, lessons, processes, and politics of hospitals you were subjected to while treating them was intense and moving. You were cracked open by the experiences and perhaps opened deeper by writing about them.
Luckily, I have been treated by skilled doctors after accidents and surgery and have never understood or appreciated what they might have been experiencing while doing so. Thank you for that!
Given all that you shared, I can only say...be gentle with yourself as you heal from your early career regrets.
Thank you for reading! My purpose was to highlight how as physicians we really aren’t trained how to talk to patients about such topics, and how the training can really expose the trainees to moral hazard as well as a significant amount of stress. It’s way better now than what it was like when I trained over 30 years ago.
As far as being more forgiving of myself, that’s part of the process of writing it! I don’t know if you read the rest of the series, but it’s been a very cathartic experience. Again thanks for reading and commenting!
This was difficult to read in the best way. You didn’t just describe trauma, you brought us inside the quiet spaces where it lives long after the chart is closed. That’s the part medical training rarely prepares anyone for. The procedural checklists are endless, but no one really tells you how to sit with another person’s grief, or your own, when there’s nothing more to fix.
The boy with no face, the girl in the ICU, the parents in shock. I kept thinking about how often young doctors are expected to absorb tragedy without being taught how to process it. It becomes muscle memory to power through, but that comes at a cost. I know that silence. I’ve felt that disconnect.
I don’t think your younger self failed. I think he showed up the best way he knew how at the time. The fact that you still carry these moments, still give them weight, is what makes you the kind of doctor people hope to meet on their worst day.
Empathy isn’t something you’re handed in orientation. It grows in the spaces where you feel like you said the wrong thing, or not enough. Thanks for writing this the way you did. You gave those two kids a name again. You gave their parents a room full of readers who might understand a little more now. And you reminded all of us how much of healing happens when we stop trying to solve and start listening.
You write the best comments!
Thank you!
Wow. Jeff, it took a lot of courage to write this article with such honesty and vulnerability. Powerful. People aren’t aware the awesome responsibility that comes with being an anesthesiologist. I just came back from my niece’s “Match Day” which, as you know Jeff, tells the student where they will be doing their residency. She chose anesthesiology. I hope her residency program offers some type of skilled training in counseling and empathy when dealing with patients and their families. I’m sorry you weren’t afforded such an opportunity and had the counseling part on the fly. You clearly already had the empathy. I hope you can fully forgive your younger yourself. I’m certain the family has. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading John. This whole series, all three stories was kind of a redemption arc and really cathartic to write. It’s a really long read to go from the prologue to the end, and am hoping to publish it in some forum where I can do that. Now if only I knew someone who writes books…hmmmm? Who could that be?? Bueller? Anyone?
As far as the family, I never saw them again as they purposelessly avoided me and I them. I hope they did obtain some measure of peace. The same with the boy. I wish I knew what became of him.
I really appreciate your taking the time to read it!
Jeff, this story warrants a second- and maybe third-read, but my initial reaction was to see my brother’s oncologist through different eyes. My brother recently passed after a too-brief battle with Gallbladder cancer, and I was with him the morning that an oncologist gave him the “official” news that we all expected. I have wondered how he managed to deliver that news over and again to families - so calm, so factual - and not react to the pained replies. I think now that he was practicing the empathy that he had learned somehow, somewhere in his practice.
I admire your vulnerability in telling these stories.
Also, so sorry about your brother. I can’t imagine a world without my siblings. Telling families bad news is an art form and an act of grace. It takes a long time to get both comfortable and good with it. Oncologists are by the nature of their job usually very good at doing that.
Dave was my identical twin. I’m sure you can immediately sense the deeper implications of this. I have been writing about this at “My M-Z Life”
I will read it. Thanks for letting me know about it
Thanks Mark! It was a tough one to write as were the other ones - but necessary. I appreciate your taking the time to read it. All the best!
Hi Jeff, Thank you for sharing these heartbreaking stories. Reading them transported me back to my own residency and a reliving of some of the times i felt over my head because i was alone and no one had talked about these experiences. Yes we do eventually learn how to respond to grieving families and dying patients but it is a shame we have to "practice" on so many people before we get it right.
Hey Pat! Thanks so much for reading. I am back to writing more regularly which feels good. How are you doing?! Give my best to Dov and stop by to say hi sometime!
I still don’t think I have got it right yet, but it’s so
Much better than 30 years ago! I am hoping that training some of the more empathetic arts has gotten better. I have noticed a huge increase in the number of women over the past few decades and a modernization of many attitudes. All the best!
I’m a retired criminal defense lawyer. I feel the same way about some clients. I’ve come to accept that they live with me, embedded there by their crimes, their personalities, or the terror and injustice of their lives. The burdens feel so heavy when we carry them alone. Thanks for sharing. I don’t think of doctors as beings with compassion.
Hahaha! Some of us have compassion. It just takes a lot to elicit it. Thanks for reading this as always. I really appreciate it!
Jeffrey, really enjoyed this. I almost felt I was in the room with you as you silently assessed your colleagues and teammates, while doing your level best to doctor to perfection. Indeed, what a dance you must do every day. And how hard to learn the dance when just out of school! We'll done!
Tommy
Thanks as always for reading it Tom! Next story is in the works about my Dad, set in 1963 when he was in the Navy!
Residency was tough, but it’s one of the many growing pain steps to becoming a competent doctor. I have mixed feelings about how unnecessarily hard it was and I am glad it has become somewhat easier for current residents. There are many more stories buried within me and I will do my best to make them see the light of day!
Best to Tracy!
I found you because I follow your sister, a wonderful person to me, she has given me so much knowledge by making me aware of persons I would not have found without her. You are another treasure. My husband retired as a family practitioner after 40 years. He was such a fine diagnostician. I am a retired RN who had a career as an ergonomist, as my love has always been human movement, self-knowing and physiology. Thank you for taking the time to write this piece of biography. Having spent some time in a medical center (Ohio State) albeit decades ago, I followed your observations carefully. You were able to careen my emotions from laughter to tears, as you nailed the medical caste system from student to attending (OH! The attending), to the fragile dying girl and the incomprehensible faceless young man. I hope to read more from you here. The painting you attached is quite beautiful. We watched the Pitt,and thought it wonderful. Best day to you in these troubling times.
Beverly, thank you so much for reading this story. As you may suspect, it was a tough one to write (they all are!). An ergonomist! That is a wonderful word and even more a wonderful profession. I don’t know if you read my precious story “dys-trophy” about my personal diagnosis of muscular dystrophy and all that it entails. I need a good ergonomist in my life!
I will pass along your comments to Kara. She is truly a remarkable person and I am so lucky to have her as my sister. We live in trying times and I often reassure myself that people like Kara exist to help us get through things.
Thanks again for reading, and hope to get a new story out soon!
Jeff
lol. Not my precious, my previous!
I will look for your story re: dystrophy. I am happy to consult digital if helpful. The sun is shining here in portland today and the air feels as it did in the 70’s before drought. Off to find foodstuffs for the loves in my life for tonight’s dinner. So happy to have found you. I hope your day is stellar and your breath is deep and long.
Well written, dad. Very tragic and also insightful. I think you should have all medical students read your work. Required reading!!!!
Thanks Kate! I sure wish I had something like that to read when I was in medical school and residency. Would have helped for sure.
What a powerful set of recollections Jeff. I can only begin to imagine how cathartic it must have been for you to write about each. Your sharing them is a gift. It is prompting me to reflect on and come to terms with pivotal moments in my life that I wish I had handled differently. I’m finding it unsettling, even painful but therapeutic to do so. Thank you for this.
BTW, your bedside manner as the anesthesiologist presiding over my laparoscopic cholecystectomy—before, during and after—could not have been better. You exuded much empathy delivered with a healthy dose of humor which kept my anxiety at bay. For that I am grateful.
Please keep writing and sharing my friend. Thanks again.
Thanks for reading Bruce! I truly appreciate it.
What a powerful and eye opening confession. Telling the stiries of your doomed payients inside the layers of details, training, lessons, processes, and politics of hospitals you were subjected to while treating them was intense and moving. You were cracked open by the experiences and perhaps opened deeper by writing about them.
Luckily, I have been treated by skilled doctors after accidents and surgery and have never understood or appreciated what they might have been experiencing while doing so. Thank you for that!
Given all that you shared, I can only say...be gentle with yourself as you heal from your early career regrets.
Thank you for reading! My purpose was to highlight how as physicians we really aren’t trained how to talk to patients about such topics, and how the training can really expose the trainees to moral hazard as well as a significant amount of stress. It’s way better now than what it was like when I trained over 30 years ago.
As far as being more forgiving of myself, that’s part of the process of writing it! I don’t know if you read the rest of the series, but it’s been a very cathartic experience. Again thanks for reading and commenting!