Michael took care of my daughter in the ED the other day. He and the team started the shift with a tragic full code that did not end well. Of course, he did not share this with me; I could hear the code call and the incoming patient statement as the EMS folks ran in and put it together, as I saw on the local news. We were there from a referral from UC, but not a critical illness. I say this because I know how difficult it is to continue for 12 more hours when you start your day with something so traumatic. It takes every ounce of strength to provide patience and empathy for the “fine” patients when you have just put everything out there to try to save a life, and it was to no avail. Mike didn’t show it at all. My daughter is as strong-willed as they come. She’s incredibly bright and thrives on details and logic, but this can feed her anxiety. What would’ve been a quick throat swab and blood draw on a willing patient took hours of patience for her. Mike spent all the time she needed explaining, answering questions, waiting, etc, to make her comfortable. He made us feel like we were the only patients in the ED. He explained things step by step. He allowed her to examine the equipment. He gave her choices. He intuitively knew the best way to approach her, and if his suggestions weren’t right at the moment, he came up with another. He respected my daughter’s and my individual needs and feelings in a way that made us both feel understood and safe. Mike made an exhausting and difficult night a lot easier without letting the gravity of the difficult experience of his own ever get in the way. CHOP and its patients are lucky to have him.