Takeaway
Our culture frequently celebrates physical strength. In healthcare, the power of emotional fortitude is regularly called upon when encountering patients’ frustration or anger.
Connecting with Patients | April 29, 2025 | 2 min read
By Prem Kurra, MBBS, Johns Hopkins Observership Program, with Amy Yu, MD, Johns Hopkins Medicine
It’s estimated that only one percent of the world’s population can deadlift 500 pounds. The heaviest lift ever recorded? A staggering 1,104 pounds. But every day, across this country, people are lifting much heavier weights. Not with their backs or biceps, but with their minds and hearts.
These quiet lifters may never make headlines or break records, but their strength is just as real. In healthcare, I’ve come to believe that, just like muscles, the soul can be trained to be strong—under pressure, uncertainty, and the weight of another person’s suffering.
This realization crystallized after my first rounds observing at Johns Hopkins. Our team of five entered Ms. K’s room. It was immediately apparent she was angry at us. Despite multiple attempts by Dr. S to connect, she wouldn’t engage. I was unsure of what we’d done wrong and why she was angry at us. It seemed her pain had no outlet, and we became the target.
“Get out,” she said. “I don’t want to see any of you.”
We stepped out of the room. I felt heavy.
Then Dr. S turned to me and said gently, “Take a breath. These moments aren’t easy. And sometimes, we just won’t be able to reach someone.”
That evening, I watched the medical team return to see Ms. K without hesitation, blame, or bitterness. They re-evaluated her plan, advocated for her needs, and kept showing up for her, even when she didn’t want them to.
That’s when I realized: this is strength in its purest form.
Not the kind built in gyms, but the kind that absorbs a patient’s anger and still chooses compassion. Emotional resilience is a clinical skill: the ability to absorb anger and rejection while still showing up with compassion is a quiet but essential form of strength in medicine. We can’t always cure, but we always get to show up; even when connection feels impossible, patients still need our care. Our consistency, not their receptiveness, defines our strength.
Click here to learn more about Dr. Yu.
This piece expresses the views solely of the author. It does not represent the views of any organization, including Johns Hopkins Medicine.