A fresh wave of the pandemic has arrived with the appearance of new COVID-19 variations. Our health care system is ill-equipped to deal with another spike in demand.

Why is this so? Doctors are fleeing. The mental and psychological burdens of practicing medicine have been exacerbated by the pandemic’s initial waves of demand. Increasing numbers of doctors are resigning from traditional practice because they are overworked and undervalued.

That includes me. After working as a hospital physician for four years, I decided to retire in October of 2021. Our country could face a doctor shortage that lasts far beyond COVID-19 if we do not make substantial changes to the medical profession and medical education.

Even in the early phases of the epidemic, no doctor could have anticipated what was going on. Even though I was working in New York in the winter and spring of 2020, the largest problem I experienced was not related to medicine. Mental exhaustion was a major factor in my colleagues and I’s decision.

Burnout is a common term used to describe what I am experiencing. However, burnout is only the final step of what psychologists call “moral injury,” which is a longer-term process. The word refers to the long-term implications of participating in events that are inconsistent with our moral values.

Even before COVID-19, I was used to dealing with such situations as part of my employment. Often, as a physician, I found myself caring for patients who required more assistance than I was able to offer. Many of my patients were struggling to pay for their medical care because they could not afford rent or food.

I had to take on the role of a social worker and financial advisor for my patients, all while taking care of their illnesses.

I felt like a factory worker more than a doctor at times. I was unable to make my own decisions because I was constantly being told what to do by administrators, insurers, and a slew of other middlemen. However, if something went wrong, I would be held accountable.

The epidemic only exacerbated these issues. During the second wave of the epidemic, I had had enough. I could not take it anymore. COVID-19-infected man would soon need to be intubated, and I was treating him. I was well aware of his bleak prognosis. His son, who was in his early twenties and clearly unqualified to make such a life-altering decision, was left to decide whether or not to intubate.

Then he said something that rocked me to the core after I described his father’s predicament to him. According to his religious beliefs, he must first believe in God and then the doctor. His only request was that I do all in my power to save the life of his father. However, despite my best efforts, I was unable to do so.

The practice of medicine is frequently described as a vocation. My passion for medicine has not waned. I enjoy taking care of people. The mental and emotional toll that today’s medical practice places on its practitioners was not something I was prepared for during my medical training.

I am not the only one with this problem. Three out of every ten health care employees say they have contemplated quitting their jobs as a result of the flu pandemic. Many doctors have not reopened their practices since the crisis peaked.

Medical training and curricula must be redesigned in order to address this issue, but we can not solve it overnight.

For the most part, I have no memory of applying organic chemistry concepts to my clinical practice. As a physician, I am convinced that a formal education at the junction of health care and economics, business, sociology, and psychology would help us deal with the enormous challenges we confront.

As a physician, I was never taught how to bargain for the value of my services or how to apply economic concepts to reduce the exorbitant expenses of patient care. What a great idea!

In addition, doctors must be better prepared to deal with the moral wounds they see on a daily basis. Doctors need time away from the office to digest the trauma they encounter on a daily basis. Sick days and vacations are both difficult to arrange at the moment. When doctors need time off, they frequently have to find someone to fill in for them.

This procedure necessitates simplification. Practicing physicians should be required to take vacations.

We must restructure the medical profession such that moral injury is no longer routine and physicians may perform their jobs without sacrificing their personal well-being if we are to defeat this epidemic and those that follow.