Takeaway
A brief, unstructured activity between patients—doodling, jotting down a feeling, or stretching for two minutes—allows you to refocus before you walk into the next room.
Lifelong learning in clinical excellence | September 23, 2026 | 2 min read
By Zeina Moukarzel, MD, MPH, MHA, Hôpital Libanais Geitaoui, Lebanon (retired)
The patient died at 4:40 in the afternoon, and by 5:15 the bed was ready for a new admission. Her daughter had asked me to explain it twice, and both times I said—We’ve reached the limits of what we can offer—a sentence I’ve had to say too many times in my career.
Afterward, I sat in the staff room for a few minutes before the next patient and wasn’t sure what to do to reset. So, I took a small piece of paper and pencil out of my bag and started doodling. Not a picture of anything. Just a line, then a second line beside it, then a curve repeated until it filled the space, then a row of small dark shapes along the edge. Sections were filled with repeated patterns—dots, arcs, stacked half-circles, whatever my hand felt like drawing.
There was no subject, no plan, and no intended result. And the absence of an eraser was not an inconvenience. A line that went somewhere unexpected was incorporated rather than corrected—a useful lesson for life and work.
Sometimes resetting means two or three minutes to draw or doodle. Sometimes it means writing down a few words or feelings that come to mind on a notepad without trying to organize them. Sometimes it means listening to a favorite song for a couple of minutes. Sometimes it means rolling the shoulders, stretching the back, and taking a few slow breaths before seeing the next patient. It doesn’t need to be elaborate. It needs to be brief, repeatable, and possible inside the time we actually have.
When the pager bleeped, my mind was clear in a way it hadn’t been at 4:40.
Why this works
1. Most of what we healthcare professionals are offered for well-being requires something we don’t have: an hour, a quiet room, or an appointment.
2. This requires just a piece of paper, or a song, or a stretch. It also can’t be done badly, which matters for people who’ve been evaluated continuously since medical training.
3. I’ve noticed that these short resets help clear my mind, settle my body, and anchor me in the present moment, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Give it a try!
This piece expresses the views solely of the author. It does not necessarily represent the views of any organization, including Johns Hopkins Medicine.