“Put me out of my distress!” I’ve pleaded to anybody inside earshot within the throes of a grueling day, a rant from one feeling burnt out. There are days I need to pull my hair out, even those that aren’t grey. One night time I caught myself grunting, “I hate my life,” whereas heading out the door at 12 a.m., after an already exhausting day within the OR. No sane …

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