Meanness about surgeons

My friend and true surgical role model Dr. Amalia Cochran published this today. It was in response to an inflammatory “anonymous” blog post (not on a satire blog) that came out earlier this week about how terrible we surgeons are. The content truly broke my heart (do people really think this is how we behave? who we are?). Since #surghumanity is what this blog is all about I felt the need to reblog here.

Meanness about surgeons


A Surgeon’s Survivor’s Guilt

My blogging partner on Hot Heels, Cool Kicks, and a Scalpel posted this after a tough weekend on call. Resonates with heenaSTAT.

Hot Heels, Cool Kicks, & a Scalpel

My heart tells me I lost them.  My brain tells me I never had them to lose.

One of my mentors has said that all trauma surgeons have their own personal graveyard, filled with patients we couldn’t save, and families’ hearts left broken.  A truer statement has never been said, and this weekend, this trauma surgeon’s graveyard has increased yet again.

The feelings that accompany this increase are always varying and deep.

There is anger.  True wrath.  When the hell are we going to figure this out?  When are we going to stop shooting one another?!  When are we going to learn that drinking and driving can be deadly?!  When are we going to start respecting ourselves, our bodies, and one another?!  When are people going to stop paving a path of destruction for themselves and others that is wide and immeasurable?!

There is sadness.  Sadness over the pain and…

View original post 222 more words

Mourning a Profession

A year ago today the world lost a superstar cardiac surgeon. I am sending my thoughts to all the friends and colleagues who knew and loved Michael J. Davidson and are no doubt still mourning, still trying to wrap their heads around the senseless act of violence that cut his life short. I was humbled by the strength and grace of his wife Terri who, with a newborn, 3 other children, a busy surgical career, and such an unimaginable loss, trained for and ran a marathon in his honor this past fall. Watching her cross the finish line showed me true resiliency.  

But a year ago, I could not have imagined this power of the human spirit. It took me days back then to come grips with my own grief as a surgeon who did not have the privilege of personally knowing Dr. Davidson. Here is what I wrote 360 days ago. 

Mourning a Profession