I Try To Understand Doctors

I try to understand why some doctors can be so arrogant, how can it be so difficult for them to admit to their mistakes? and understand that they are after all only human. Pretending to know more can only make matters worse both for the doctors and the patients. 

I found this poem by Anne Sexton, (who demised by committing suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning), described what best about doctors. Her poem simply called "Doctors":

Doctors

They work with herbs 

and penicillin 

They work with gentleness 

and the scalpel. 

They dig out the cancer, 

close an incision and say a prayer 

to the poverty of the skin. 

They are not Gods though they would like to be; 

they are only a human 

trying to fix up a human. 

Many humans die. 

They die like the tender, 

palpitating berries 

in November. 

But all along the doctors remember: 

First do no harm. 

They would kiss if it would heal. 

It would not heal.

If the doctors cure 

then the sun sees it. 

If the doctors kill 

then the earth hides it. 

The doctors should fear arrogance 

more than cardiac arrest. 

If they are too proud, 

and some are, 

then they leave home on horseback 

but God returns them on foot. 

Anne Sexton