LOVE CANNOT BE CURED… BUT LIFE IS NOT ALIVE WITHOUT IT

Sometimes patients look at me and say: “You probably never get sick…” I smile. Of course. I’m a doctor.
But if they knew that sometimes I come home, take off my robe, wash my face, on which the duty smile has been on all day — and I feel not tiredness, but emptiness. Because there was not a single real look. Not a single message that makes the heart skip a beat. Not even a simple “How are you?” not out of politeness, but because it’s really interesting.

Sometimes I think that we, doctors, treat others too often, forgetting that we ourselves can also get sick — not from a virus, but from silence, from meaningless dialogues, from a lack of living feelings.
No, I don’t need love as a medicine. I just want someone to see in me at least once not a role, not a status, not a profession — but a woman. Yours. The one you can hug - and she will forget everything: diagnoses, schedules, and night shifts.

After all, even the strong have weaknesses. We just hide them better than others.