- Volodymyrovych, urgent! The on-duty doctor is calling…
His mornings don’t start with coffee. The black nights are divided by the white coat of the medical day. In his nearly 20 years of experience, surgeon Maksym Shcherbyna has gotten used to juggling sleep and pushing aside thoughts of hunger when work calls. When asked about breakfast in his schedule, instead of grand statements about duty and calling, he simply notes that around 5 PM, he might manage to grab a bite.
By 1 PM, he’s completed planned surgeries and patient consultations. Then, administrative issues crowd around Volodymyrovych, as Maksym also heads the department. However, this structured routine is more of a wishful dream because what exactly is “planned” in a doctor’s schedule? Yes, if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans…
He recalls how, on his birthday, along with receiving congratulations, he also got a sudden call from a post-op patient. He had to perform another surgery. This is the life of a surgeon, where surprises are routine.
“A quick five-minute chat with colleagues, five minutes for coffee... Don’t forget to check the budget... Review Petrovets’ scans, surgery at 10 AM... Stepanivna is on vacation, need to assign someone to the treatment room... Missed call from my wife... She asked me to call this morning... Totally slipped my mind... Better write it down, or I’ll forget again... Oh, and the weekend plans…”
- Maksym Volodymyrovych, could you look at this scan?
Colleagues like to consult with him, and he never refuses because “instilling confidence is part of the head’s job.” Alone, they’re like the brief flare of a match, but together, they’re an eternal flame standing guard over life, taking turns holding it, literally—through their shifts. They never wish each other “an easy surgery” or “a quiet night”—there’s a superstition that saying so will bring the opposite. But they always hope for it. “Everything will be fine,” Maksym repeats like a mantra to his colleagues, even in the toughest situations. And he hugs them. A surgeon’s hands can heal even without a scalpel if the doctor’s heart is compassionate.
- Maksym Volodymyrovych, we need your approval and signature, could you take a look? Will you have time before 3?
He was planning to have breakfast and maybe some coffee, but now he needs to hand over the documents for procurement… and not forget to call his wife...
There’s a message from his daughter on Viber—his wife always uses this trick when he doesn’t have time or forgets to get in touch. “Checkmate,” he smiles to himself because, of course, a message from his daughter is something he’ll read immediately.
...Family is what gives him strength when work drains him completely. They live outside the city, and the drive home is his leap into the embrace of nature, where the desire to save patients fills him anew.
He has a daughter and a son. And a wife who always packs him food for work because she knows that sometimes breakfast is whatever’s within arm’s reach. “If it weren’t for my wife… you see, those late-night calls, those emergency summonses... it’s not easy. The doctor’s profession must be shared by the whole family, otherwise, it’s just impossible,” Maksym says, pausing thoughtfully.
- Alright, dear, I remember, I won’t forget... No, I haven’t had breakfast yet, no time. Okay, okay, I’m rushing, talk to you later!
Sometimes he has to operate without any preparation—the situation demands it. In moments like these, he pulls his thoughts together, sets aside everything else, and runs to the operating room. In those moments, everything personal and urgent fades—cold, hunger, pain, and worries… The sterile operating room echoes with the sterility of emotions.
Adrenaline washes away thoughts of morning coffee. The patient’s condition is front and center, dictating every move.
For a true surgeon, surgery is the lifeblood. Maksym admits that after just two days without a scalpel in his hands, he starts to miss the professional thrill, becoming irritable and restless. The whirlwind of thoughts reminds him of the hours ticking by—hours in which he could have helped someone, solved a problem in the truest sense of the word: “operatively.” No coffee wakes him up as much as the feeling of being needed in the right place!
His breakfasts are more like late afternoon snacks, often accompanied by strong coffee because relaxing with tea at 5 o’clock is a luxury not afforded to workdays. In the café, there are a few scattered croissant lovers, just as sparse as the croissants peeking out from the half-empty display. And finally, he can retreat into solitude, catch his breath, and think about everything he’s forgotten in the rhythm of work. A call to his wife, a message to his daughter, notes in his phone…
He tries to visit the gym at least twice a week to release tension from his hands. He lives outside the city to unburden his soul. But the hardest part is unloading his mind because even during breakfast, the knife in his right hand reminds him of the preparation for tomorrow’s surgeries. This is the life of a surgeon: he lives each day so that the patient can have breakfast tomorrow. And it doesn’t matter that he only remembers his own by evening…
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