Today is my birthday. Not balloons. Not candles. Not a “happy birthday” from people who know me.
Just fluorescent lights… a hallway that never sleeps… and a pager that keeps pulling me back.
I’m a doctor. I spend my days holding hands through fear, delivering hope in the worst moments, telling families “we did everything we could.” I’ve celebrated strangers’ miracles… and sat with strangers’ grief.
But tonight… when the shift ends… I’m alone.
So if you’re reading this—please remember: Behind the scrubs is a human being who gets tired… who feels… who also needs kindness.
Drop a 
