Doctors are often seen as strong, unshakable, and always ready to save lives. But behind the white coat is a human heart that also breaks. This is a reflection on loss—the kind we were never really taught to handle in med school, yet one we carry with us every day.

They say loss is part of life.
It’s easy to tell someone else, “It’s okay.”

But as a physician, it feels different. Losing a patient—no matter how many years you’ve practiced—still hurts.

Today, I lost one. And it sucks. It makes me wonder if I’m still worthy of being a doctor. It makes me question my ability to heal, to help. The pain runs so deep that I want to cry.

But how can I cry in front of another patient who’s asking for help, who’s hoping I can cure them?

The battle is insidious. It’s poisonous. It seeps in the more you think about it.

And soon it spirals into self-hate: Where did I go wrong?
I gave everything—sweat soaking through my scrubs, hunger ignored, hands trembling from hypoglycemia. None of it matters when a life in front of you needs saving in the ER. They go first. Always.

I’ve saved countless lives in a single shift. Yet one loss stands out like a sore thumb. And you start blaming yourself for that one.

How can I say I did everything?
I don’t know.

I want to save everyone.
I want to heal everyone who walks into my ER.

It hurts to lose.
It hurts to say sorry to a family crying over a lifeless body.

People think we move on, but we don’t. We carry the weight of every loss. We replay every moment, wondering what we missed, wishing we could turn back time.

But even if we could turn back time, could we really save them all?

I know my power ends where God’s begins.
It’s supposed to be comforting to say, “We’re not gods.”

But deep inside, we still wish we could have saved them all.

And maybe this is the part that was never taught in med school—the wound we carry silently and learn to live with. We hide it, compartmentalize it, as we struggle to exist between victories and losses.

We don’t forget. We don’t stop hurting. But we carry on. Because with each smile, each patient we heal, the wound is patched a little. The bleeding slows. The scar remains, but it reminds us of why we keep going.

We carry on because they deserve more from us. They deserve the best of what we have left to give.

-Dr. A