The value of peer support in curbing moral injury: A resident’s perspective

Abstract

O n a dark winter's night, snowflakes trickled from above and settled onto my windowsill. I stared at the snowflakes melt into nothingness until I drifted asleep. The following morning, before the sun rose (and still decaffeinated), I crossed the street to enter the sacred space of the hospital. Throughout the day (now caffeinated), I wondered if the sun had ever rose, how our patients and their loved ones were healing, and why we were fighting so many barriers to give our patients the best possible care. When I returned home from the seemingly divine house of care for the sick, I felt exhausted. For many days, I spiralled down this vicious cycle of lack of selfcare. Ultimately, with the support of my peers, I reframed my thoughts, rediscovered pure joy in my work, and relearned how to maintain balance in a surgical career. In retrospect, I was wounded by the lack of humaneness that I showed myself, which led to feeling burnout.My story is not unique. Many medical students, residents, fellows, and staff have similar experiences. We have surpassed countless obstacles to reach where we are; a badge we wear with honour. We work grueling 24-, 48-, or even 72-hour shifts, contort our backs to complete our job, and barely eat or drink during the day. We are not weak nor soft, but rather, we are dedicated to greatness in our pursuits and altruistic with our energy, despite increased demands on us -complex patient care, academic excellence, and research productivity -all while trying to master the art of surgery. However, letting one's work define them catalyzes burnout. Unfortunately, we often ignore ourselves and self-inflict moral injury to exhaustion. Acknowledging this cultural phenomenon