Today marks four years since we lost my brother - a physician, away on a locums assignment. It was around 9:15 AM PST on May 21, 2022 when we last spoke. I was on my way to the gym, it felt like just another Saturday. That conversation lives with me every day. What I wouldn't give for just one more.
His passing changed how I see everything. I found myself paying closer attention to what other physicians were carrying, the quiet struggles. For a while, I felt hopeful. There was real momentum building around physician wellness, and it felt like something was finally shifting.
But the needle is moving in the wrong direction. Burnout rates remain at historic highs. Physicians are leaving clinical medicine faster than we can replace them. The administrative burden - prior authorizations, documentation, clunky EMRs, breaking the glass on a patient there to see YOU, continues to consume the hours that should be spent on patients, or on rest, or on simply being human.
Mental health stigma in medicine hasn't gone away; if anything, the fear of career consequences keeps too many physicians suffering in silence. And we lost more colleagues to suicide this year than we should ever accept as normal.
I don't have all the answers. But I know this - we have to figure it out, and we are running out of time before the profession is just a shell of itself.