I remember as a Senior House Officer about to start a ward round, the sigh and drop of their shoulders. A foundation doctor stares at a screen, realising their annual leave request for their sister’s wedding has been auto-rejected by a system algorithm.
Beside them, a medical student who is paying over nine thousand pounds a year stands in silence, waiting for a consultant to notice them so they can get a mandatory portfolio signature.
Both of them are physically present, but entirely powerless. They look at the patient list, look at the lack of staffing, and you can see the exact moment the exhaustion sets in. They have not even seen the first patient, but they are already drained. They are operating in a state of chronic, quiet surrender.
