It’s a little after 7 o’clock at night, and I’m walking out of the hospital on a beautiful evening here in the Philadelphia area. And as I’m heading to my car, I see all of them walking in from their cars. And of course, I’m talking about the night shift.

Nurses, physicians, APPs, technicians, respiratory therapists, security officers, environmental services, lab personnel, pharmacists, and so on. So many people beginning their workday, just as many of us are ending ours. And it always makes me think about something that we probably don’t appreciate often enough.

And that is a hospital never closes. 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas morning, Thanksgiving night, New Year’s Eve, birthdays, anniversaries. It doesn’t matter if there are snowstorms, thunderstorms, hurricanes. The lights are always on because somewhere inside that hospital, someone is frightened, someone is hurting, someone is having a baby, and someone is undergoing emergency surgery. And yes, someone may be literally fighting for their life.

And someone has to be there for them.

I have tremendous admiration for everyone who keeps the hospital running. There’s so many quiet heroes behind the scenes, engineering, security, environmental services, food services. Our leadership teams, it just goes on and on. It truly takes thousands of people doing thousands of different jobs to care for our patients.

But there is something especially remarkable about the people who walk through those doors at night. While most of the world is having dinner, putting their children to bed, or settling in for the evening, your workday is just beginning.

You walk into the emergency department, the ICU, maternity, pediatrics, the operating rooms, the medical and surgical floors. You take responsibility for people during some of the most vulnerable hours of their lives.

And at two or three in the morning, when a patient is frightened and their family has gone home, you are the person who sits behind their bed, who sits with them, holds their hand, and reminds them that they are not alone. That is more than just a job. That is an awesome service that you provide.

So tonight, as I walk out and I watch you walk in, I simply want to say, I see you. I respect you and I am incredibly grateful for you.

To every member of the night shift and every hospital everywhere, thank you for keeping the lights on. Thank you for being there when the rest of the world sleeps. And most importantly, thank you for taking care of our patients.

I’m Dr. Raymond Singer, and I’ll see you next time.

Interested in my book? You can buy it on Amazon!

(𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.)