William Johnson

Last Tuesday was one of those days that etched itself into my memory. The hospital was already buzzing with activity when I arrived, the hustle and bustle of Washington DC in full swing outside. As I walked through the cardiac surgery department, I knew the day would be challenging—not just because of the surgeries lined up, but because of a particular patient, Mr. Whitaker. Mr. Whitaker, a 68-year-old with severe congestive heart failure, had made it clear he didn't want me, a black surgeon, to operate on him.

As a 42-year-old seasoned heart surgeon, I had faced prejudice before, but this felt different. My assistant, Dr. Collins, who is white, introduced himself as the surgeon who would perform the operation. Mr. Whitaker seemed relieved, unaware of the truth. Once he was under anesthesia, I stepped in. The operation was intricate, a marathon of concentration and skill, but in the end, it was successful. Mr. Whitaker’s condition improved rapidly over the next few days.

When he found out from Dr. Collins that I had been the one to perform the surgery, his initial shock gave way to contemplation. He requested to see me and apologized, saying, "I am truly sorry to have offended you. Thank you for the successful operation." I nodded, acknowledging his apology. Leaving the room, I felt a wave of mixed emotions. It was a victory for the team and the patient, but also a stark reminder of the prejudices that persist.

Despite the hurt, I focus on what matters most: saving lives and providing the best care possible. As I walked down the hospital corridor, I resolved to continue proving, through my work, that skill and dedication know no color.