Ehab Badran

A few years ago, I remember finishing a long case late at night. It wasn’t complicated, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t perfect. I replayed every step in my head while driving home. Every suture. Every decision. Every moment I could’ve done something slightly better. It wasn’t guilt — it was that familiar knot in your stomach that comes when your brain whispers: “You should’ve done it differently.” That voice is loud in surgery. It starts in training, grows during your...

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with a surgical colleague. We got into the usual “what’s next?” conversation; the kind surgeons often fall into. He told me about an upcoming fellowship he was applying for. Not because it was in a subspecialty he truly loved, but because he felt it would “look bad” not to have it. He already had MRCS. FRCS. A diploma. An MSc. But somehow, it still didn’t feel like enough. When I asked him why he needed this fellowship, he paused for a long time. Then he said:...

A few months ago, I was asked to give a short talk to a group of surgical trainees. Nothing fancy. Just some practical tips and common pitfalls I’d picked up over the years. I wasn’t expecting much from it. Honestly, it felt too basic to be helpful. But afterwards, one of the trainees came up to me and said, “I’ve never heard someone explain it like that. That one trick for dealing with post-op bleeding? Game-changer.” It stopped me in my tracks. Because what felt completely normal to me —...

Ever feel like every decision you make in the OR, every comment in a meeting, or every case you post online is being intensely scrutinized? Like everyone is secretly judging your skills, knowledge, or performance? That’s the Spotlight Effect in action; our tendency to overestimate how much other people notice and evaluate us. This bias was first identified in a 2000 study by psychologists Thomas Gilovich and Kenneth Savitsky. In their experiment, they asked students to wear an embarrassing...

I’ve never liked following a strict system, and I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s because standard procedures feel too rigid, or perhaps I question why these rules exist in the first place. Are they really set up for everyone’s benefit, or do hidden motives shape them? I’m not saying I’m right or wrong—this is simply how I’ve always thought. You can really see this in medicine. The path to becoming a consultant is set out clearly: go to medical school, graduate, do your foundation years,...