Dr. Sadosty was the leader of the code and modeled so many behaviors that I wanted to soak in as a future educator. As she walked into the room, it seemed like all of the chaos melted away. When she looked at me and the medical student and gave us instructions on what to do, we felt like we weren’t just bodies doing compressions; we were equal members of this coordinated team that was trying to keep this woman alive. Despite our efforts to save her, the patient did not survive. I didn’t know what to do with my emotions, but I knew that I was deeply affected by her death and by the whole experience. It was really traumatic for me. It was even more traumatic for the family, who witnessed portions of the code. 

Afterwards, Dr. Sadosty did something that I had not yet seen many other physicians do. She felt the emotions of this loss and allowed me to witness her feeling them. Dr. Sadosty made space for me to feel my own emotions and articulate that I was affected by this experience. She invited me to go with her to talk to the family, and I witnessed her model the most important lesson of being a physician: how to be fully present with a patient or family member, especially on what might be the most devastating day of their lives. She recognized that me accompanying her would be helpful as I processed this patient’s death—and an impactful part of my physician journey. 

Dr. Sadosty also debriefed the team. She normalized addressing both the medical and the personal or emotional aspects of delivering care to our patients. She expressed emotions in a way that I didn’t think doctors were allowed to, and that day was probably the most educational for me moving forward in my career. Dr. Sadosty taught me that when we experience trauma or difficult outcomes in healthcare, it’s OK for us to take a beat, feel the things that we feel, embrace those emotions and then invite the learners to reflect and debrief on them. I saw Dr. Sadosty in 2019 at a conference, and we talked about how impactful the experience was on the entire team.

I only worked with her that one rotation, but after that experience I recognized in her the type of teacher that I wanted to be: one who made it a safe learning environment for people who felt big emotions — and those who didn’t. I’ve had many meaningful mentors since that first rotation, but I will never forget Dr. Sadosty for that lesson. 

Today, in every teaching rotation I attend with my students, residents or fellows, I make space to acknowledge that our patients can impact us just as we impact them. I think that’s how we retain our humanity as physicians. We’re not superheroes, and by remembering our humanity and our patients in that way, we can continue to navigate some of the emotionally challenging experiences that come with providing extraordinary care to our patients.

This and other alumni stories originally appeared in the 2025 issue 1 of Mayo Clinic Alumni Magazine.