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Adam Kay quits medicine

This Is Going to Hurt

Adam Kay’s departure from medicine is the culmination of a clinical catastrophe and the silence that follows it. After a baby dies during a birth and the mother suffers a life-threatening emergency, Kay returns to work but cannot put the experience behind him. He becomes increasingly afraid of another bad outcome, receives no effective institutional support, and leaves his medical career a few months later without telling people why. His account presents resignation not as a clean break, but as the final consequence of carrying on when he was already overwhelmed.

The Work Before the Departure

Kay’s account places the decision against the demands of junior medical work. In his first years, he is repeatedly expected to manage responsibility before feeling ready for it. Junior doctors move hospitals every six to twelve months, losing familiar colleagues and learning new workplaces on a common changeover day known as Black Wednesday. The account notes that death rates rise on that day, underscoring the risks of a system in which staff must adapt quickly even as patients depend on them.

The informal expectations of the job reinforce that pressure. Near the end of a shift, a midwife tells Kay that doctors do not need to be formally signed off before doing certain tasks. On another occasion, a doctor brought in from a different hospital to fill a night-shift gap has never performed a caesarean. Kay sends him home and anticipates having to work another twelve hours without pay. These episodes show a workplace where professional responsibility can exceed preparation and where staffing gaps are absorbed by the doctors already present.

Kay had nevertheless found meaning in the work. He chose women’s health, including labour and infertility, because it allowed him to help deliver babies and support couples who wanted children. He understood that the work could bring severe lows as well as intense highs. Early signs of how much he depended on encouragement appear when a nurse praises his work after a difficult night: exhausted and shocked, Kay mistakenly ends the call as though speaking to someone close to him. Such moments establish both the value he placed on care and the thinness of the support available to him.

The Catastrophic Birth

The decisive crisis occurs while Kay is the most senior doctor on the ward. A junior doctor begins a caesarean with Kay assisting, but an unexpected complication makes it impossible for her to deliver the baby. Kay takes over. The baby is stillborn, and the mother loses an enormous amount of blood. Despite attempts to stop the bleeding and urgent calls for help, the senior team has to remove the mother’s womb to save her. She is transferred to intensive care, and Kay is told to prepare for the worst.

Afterward, Kay begins writing his notes but instead cries for an hour. He had seen patients and babies die before, yet this is different because everyone on the ward had looked to him as the senior doctor. He later describes himself as having failed, even though he had broken no rules and is told that other doctors would have acted in the same way with the same result. The gap between what he knows professionally and what he feels personally becomes central to the aftermath: the event was not presented as a mistake he could simply correct, but he remains preoccupied with whether a different course might have prevented it.

Returning to Work and Changing

Kay goes back to work the next day. In his account, the return is not evidence that he has recovered: he is physically back in the same place, but understands himself to have become a different doctor. He decides that even a small drop in a baby’s heart rate will lead him to perform a caesarean. He knows this approach will mean some women undergo surgery they do not need, but judges that risk acceptable if everyone leaves the room alive. The catastrophe has therefore changed not only his emotional state but also his clinical decisions.

He recognizes this response in the senior doctors who had previously seemed afraid to take risks. Their caution now appears to him as the product of having lived through events that leave a person thinking about what might have happened. But Kay also recognizes the limit of merely continuing: in the six months after the birth, he does not laugh, and his smiles are not genuine. The book’s movement from jokes about the absurdities of clinical work to this extended loss of humour makes the crisis a turning point in the account as well as in his working life.

Silence and Leaving Medicine

Kay says he should have been able to talk to someone and that the hospital should have made sure he received help. Instead, a code of silence prevents support from reaching those who need it. The working culture expects doctors to carry on through repeated bad outcomes; there is not enough room in the rota for a sick day, let alone a month away to recover. The problem is therefore more than Kay’s private reluctance to speak: the conditions of work leave little space for acknowledging the effects of what has happened.

He asks to work part-time, but is told this is not possible unless he is pregnant. He considers retraining as a general practitioner, then finds that this would mean starting his training again and remains uncertain whether he wants that career. A few months after the birth, he hangs up his white coat and leaves his job as a junior doctor. The account establishes the timing and the pressures around the decision, without presenting a formal resignation process or a single conversation that resolves them.

What the Departure Conceals and Leaves Behind

Kay does not tell anyone why he leaves. When he tells his parents, they react as though he has announced something disastrous; he later reflects that they might have understood had he explained. At first, the reason is too difficult to discuss. In time, silence becomes habitual: he changes the subject and tells funny stories about patients instead. Some of his closest friends, he notes, will first learn the truth through the book. The act of recounting the departure thus reveals what was withheld from his personal relationships and gives the ending of his medical career a delayed explanation.

Kay later works as a writer. He does not miss the bad days in medicine, but misses the colleagues, helping people, and sense of having made a difference on the journey home. He also says that he never entirely stops being a doctor: he still responds when someone falls from a bicycle and answers pregnant friends seeking advice by text. Leaving medicine ends his employment, not his instinct to help. The departure is consequently both an escape from work that had broken him and a loss of a vocation whose good days remain important to him.

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