Revealing humanity beyond the mask.

The room hummed in three-four time—monitor beeps, ventilator hiss, shoes on polished floor. We stabilized a mother and her child. The OR found its rhythm again. I didn’t.

After the “good save,” a quieter voice spoke up: What if you missed something? I knew that voice. It lived between shifts, between signatures, between the person I projected and the person I carried home.

My body tried to warn me. A slight tremor. A wave of lightheadedness by the wall. A headache that pulsed with every fluorescent hum. I called them fatigue. They were more than that.

Here is what that morning taught me: presence matters—but so does honesty. You can be calm for the room and still be truthful with yourself. The two are not enemies.

So I’m learning smaller habits. Name what I feel. Check my own vitals before I check everyone else’s. Ask for help earlier than my pride prefers. Small checks prevent big collapses.

If you’ve ever held a room together while coming apart inside, I get it. Share your story below, subscribe for the next chapter reflection, and walk this road with me—one steady breath at a time.