As India celebrates National Doctors’ Day on July 1, the spotlight often falls on the medical fraternity’s miraculous recoveries and heroic interventions. However, behind the stethoscopes and white coats lies an unspoken, brewing mental health crisis. Driven by gruelling hours, sleep deprivation, and the crushing weight of being treated as infallible ‘gods’, Indian doctors face unprecedented psychological pressure. Also read | Cancer doctor ‘with 30 years of experience’ shares her top advice, busts common myths
In a candid, behind-the-scenes look at the realities of the profession, Dr Esha Kaul, director of haematology, oncology, and bone marrow transplant (BMT) at Medanta Noida, spoke with HT Lifestyle to shatter the myth of the invincible physician.
A quarter-century on the medical roller coaster
For many young medical aspirants, entering the field is a dream, but the reality of a lifetime spent on the edge of life and death is a profound psychological journey. “August 1, 2001 was my first day of medical college at the All-India Institute of Medical Sciences,” Dr Kaul recalled. “25 years later in medicine, a decade in the US and now again back in India for the last 11 years, has been a complete roller coaster ride,” she added.
As a blood cancer specialist, Dr Kaul’s daily routine involves stepping into situations filled with absolute despair. “Being someone who treats blood cancers, one thing that remains constant is that for a lot of people and families, we are with them on the absolute worst day of their lives,” she said.
“Telling a father that their 18-year-old son has just been diagnosed with the most aggressive and lethal cancer doesn’t get any easier, even after all these years. The word leukaemia sends shivers down the spine of not just ordinary people, but most doctors as well. In those meetings, the fear and hopelessness in the room is almost palpable,” the doctor explained.
The weight of being a patient’s ‘only hope’
The psychological pressure is further magnified by the systemic and socio-economic challenges unique to the Indian healthcare landscape. In India, resident doctors and consultants alike are routinely forced to act not just as clinicians, but as counsellors, financial navigators, and pillars of emotional stability.
Dr Kaul shared a poignant memory illustrating the deep fear patients experience, and the intense emotional labor required from their physicians: “I once entered an ‘isolation room’ in our emergency department to see a young man who had been referred to us from a small nursing home with critically low white blood cell counts, often associated with acute leukaemia. I will never forget the fear in his eyes. As I spoke to him and touched his belly to do a physical examination, tears started rolling down his eyes. Everyone was so terrified by his blood reports in the nursing home that no one even entered the room. That terrified him even more. I was the first doctor to touch him in 4 days… and just simple action of a physical examination was so relieving for him and he broke into tears… it gave him the first ray of hope that he might survive.”
While the rewards of the job are unparalleled — such as seeing that same young man ‘nine months later returning to sit behind the counter at his grocery store’ — the path to that recovery takes a steep toll on the doctor’s psyche. “So when people say being a doctor is more than a profession, it’s somewhat true,” Dr Kaul said.
She added: “You are often someone’s only hope when the world around them is crumbling. The additional challenge of doing this in India is helping people navigate financial and logistical challenges in their treatments. The farmer who is thinking about selling their land, and the elderly couple with their only son living in the US. They all look at you for answers, for solutions. And while you do what you can, it comes at a price. Even after all these years, I need to brace myself before telling a patient about the results of a bad biopsy report or a bad scan.”
The zero-error syndrome: ‘Can’t afford a bad day’
Perhaps the most hazardous element of medical culture in India is the societal expectation of perfection. While sports icons and global celebrities are permitted slumps in form, doctors are granted no such grace — a reality that severely damages the mental health of resident doctors who already battle sleep deprivation and a lack of institutional support.
“Empathy and compassion are very important qualities in the medical profession. But how to balance that with self-care is not discussed enough,” Dr Kaul stressed, adding, “To feel for others and simultaneously recover enough to keep going is a difficult problem. How to handle grief (and yes, people will be surprised to know how much grief is felt by the treating team when they lose a patient they worked so hard on for months and years).”
The boundary between a doctor’s professional obligations and their personal life is practically non-existent, creating a recipe for chronic burnout. “How do you go back home and celebrate a birthday or anniversary after pronouncing a patient? How to answer that dreadful phone call about a patient crashing as you help your child with homework? Or are you taking care of your own sick parent?” Dr Kaul asked. “Even Virat Kohli and Roger Federer are allowed to have a bad day and be out of form every once in a while. We absolutely can’t afford that. The stakes are too high,” she added.
The way forward
To combat this silent mental health crisis, Dr Kaul believed that Indian medical institutions must pivot toward systemic changes, starting with how young doctors are trained to manage the emotional weight of the profession.
She highlighted a few necessary reforms for doctors’ mental health:
⦿ Communication skills: Training students to deliver bad news effectively while maintaining boundaries.
⦿ Institutional peer support: Developing strong bonds and collaborative teamwork to share the emotional load.
⦿ De-stigmatising doctor grief: Creating spaces where medical professionals can process patient loss.
“One way to improve the mental health of doctors is to train medical students better in improving their communication skills,” Dr Kaul suggested. “I find that, particularly in India, not enough time is spent on this aspect of medicine. Young doctors often enter practice lacking the tools to communicate effectively, yet maintaining empathy. Working in teams and having a strong bond with your colleagues are also not valued enough and must be supported and developed by institutions and leaders,” she added.
Despite the profound psychological burdens, Dr Kaul concluded on a resilient note, reminding the community of why healthcare workers continue to endure the pressure: “But it’s not all doom and gloom, believe me! Every day we see patients come back after kissing death, old patients doing well in life, getting married, having children, travelling and just living their lives fully. They share those moments with you as you have become a part of their story. It is those smiling faces that give us the energy to get up and show up to work every day. Show up, we must. It’s a burden and a privilege which we must carry with pride and dignity.”
Note to readers: This article is for informational purposes only and not a substitute for professional medical advice. Always seek the advice of your doctor with any questions about a medical condition.
