Life is a journey marked by the waypoints of humbling events. We all experience these affairs, great and small, in our personal and professional lives. We think more of ourselves than we have any right to, and we are cut down to size.

For two summers I worked for a roofing company. This was my first experience with a real employer. I had pushed a lawn mower in the neighborhood at 10 bucks a job but had never functioned in a workplace before. The work was tough and dirty, but I learned to handle my end of the log.

On a bright August morning my foreman, a big burly man, told me to drive a long stake truck out of the yard and park it in front of the shop. I knew how to drive a manual transmission but had never driven a vehicle bigger than a large sedan. I was too proud or stupid to tell him I was clueless. I turned the corner too quickly and clipped the edge of the gate.

The crew came running and bent the gate back before the foreman could see what happened. The guys tried to console me and told me to keep my mouth shut. I felt bad about the gate but worse about being the fool who couldn’t drive a truck 30 yards without breaking something. This was my first real-life lesson in humility. I try to keep that lesson in my head to remind me that I don’t know everything and that sometimes I need to ask for help before doing something beyond my abilities. This lesson has kept me out of considerable trouble over the years.

Have I always kept this lesson in mind? Absolutely not, and I have again learned to be humble through my miscalculations and poor judgment.

These humbling experiences are inevitable. Taking risks and being independent, by nature, will result in occasional failures. It is not the falling down but the returning to one’s feet that is the measure of a person. Mahatma Gandhi said, “I claim to be a simple individual liable to err like any other fellow mortal. I own, however, that I have humility enough to confess my errors and to retrace my steps.”

As EPs we have chosen one of the most humbling occupations. Every day we have multiple opportunities to eschew arrogance and embrace humility. But, these events don’t present with a blinking sign that says, “DANGER!” They slip in like a thief in the night to lay claim to our conceit. One of the biggest pitfalls in our specialty is to think poorly of someone based on limited information.

It is humbling to assume someone with flank pain is a drug seeker, send him off to CT with only something for nausea and learn later there is a 5-mm obstructing stone.

We see many patients with real psychiatric illness, so it can be easy to label patients crazy. A humble doctor will be made the day that he or she learns the crazy old lady sent back to the ECF had a sodium of 118.

I believe EPs are particularly good at retracing our steps and owning our errors or failures in judgment. We know the complexities of caring for the undifferentiated ill patient. We understand that arrogance is our enemy and that respect for the unknown is the companion of wisdom.

Rick Warren teaches, “Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. Humility is thinking more of others.” When we focus on the patient and the family to solve their questions and problems, we are at our best. Some days, I am tempted to raise my arms in victory after a successful day of rigorous patient care. I keep this in check, knowing that my astute diagnosis of an epidural abscess doesn’t mean I won’t miss the same diagnosis next week.

A certain amount of self-confidence is needed to practice our specialty. Without it we are trapped in a universe where every stone must be turned. The art in our practice is finding the balance between the confidence in our ability and the awareness of our limitations. The sweet spot is found after many successes and a smattering of humbling events that remind us of our humanity.

Be happy.

Dr. Baehren lives in Ottawa Hill, Ohio. He practices emergency medicine and is an assistant professor at the University of Toledo (Ohio) Medical Center. Your feedback is welcome at David.Baehren@utoledo.edu