I pinch lightly on the back of my hand, testing the elasticity of my skin in a clinical assessment of turgor. [cite_start]The smoothness rebounds effortlessly, a quiet testament to youth. [cite: 63, 64]
Mortality, I’ve realized, is a double-edged paradox. It gives us the chance to grow—to build knowledge, to foster love, to seek truth and meaning. [cite_start]But it is also a perpetuator of loss in equal measure. [cite: 81, 82]
As physicians, we stand at the precipice of this truth every day. It is not our job to erase mortality but to make space for dignity, comfort, and meaning within it. [cite_start]To listen deeply, to honor and respect each human we have the privilege to treat. [cite: 86, 91, 93]
This is the beauty and the curse of being mortal: the delicate balance between joy and grief, between holding on and letting go. To navigate through this paradox is the greatest privilege. Even in loss, there is love. Even in endings, there is meaning. [cite_start]And even in mortality, there is something eternal. [cite: 106, 107, 108, 109]
