When You Need It Most

Heading down the long corridor that separates the main hospital from the clinic, I found myself filled again with self-doubt, remorse, and shame. Through no obvious fault of my own, I had been defeated. Defeat for a surgeon can take many forms, but the worst occurs when the patient dies on the table in the operating room. Such was the case for me that afternoon less than six weeks after returning from a rehab facility in Atlanta, Georgia.