A medical drama often depicts how challenging it is to be a doctor—a hero saving lives, resolving conflicts, and bound by schedules and overwhelming responsibilities for others’ futures. Its protagonists constantly endure emotional, physical, and financial pressures. And all of this is true and significant: doctors genuinely face these difficulties every day.

The Pitt is no exception. It tells the same story but adds a new perspective—one on doctors and their relationships with patients. That’s what caught our attention and inspired this article. We believe that palliative care professionals will find this series particularly meaningful. (Mild spoilers ahead!)

The story unfolds over a single shift in the emergency department of a Pittsburgh trauma hospital. The main character, Dr Michael ‘Robbie’ Robinavich, a senior attending physician, ironically refers to his workplace as ’the Pitt’ — a name derived from Pittsburgh and ‘a pit’.

The series consists of 15 episodes, each representing an hour of a 15-hour shift. It’s astonishing how many events, emotions, and decisions can occur within a single working day. Although all the action takes place within just a few square metres, it feels vast—filled with stories, characters, and emotions that create a complete world.

We follow not only Robbie but the entire team — residents, nurses, administrators, and students on rotation. Robbie is portrayed as a doctor with extensive experience and a deep understanding, both of medicine and ethics, attentive to patients and colleagues—a moral compass for his team. At the same time, he bears unprocessed grief: two years earlier, his mentor died of COVID-19 in this very department. Robbie works to the point of exhaustion, balancing on the edge of emotional and physical burnout.

Thus, The Pitt is not just a hospital chronicle but a journey into the psychology of its staff. For perhaps the first time, we see doctors portrayed so convincingly as vulnerable human beings, just like everyone else.

As mentioned, Robbie doesn’t manage self-care well, but he’s attentive to his team’s well-being. Imagine a scene: a resuscitation is underway, with several people working intensely—giving injections, performing intubation, and chest compressions. The room is filled with shouts, alarms, tension, and hope. Suddenly, the attending physician announces the time of death—and everything ceases.

The team has lost the battle. They can walk away, carrying the trauma inside, or they can pause for a moment of silence, recognising the loss. And it helps. I asked a friend, an ER doctor in Chicago, whether this happens in real life. ‘Yes, it happens,’ she said. ‘Especially when a child dies.’

That moment will resonate with many hospice and palliative care professionals. Even knowing that a patient will die doesn’t exempt them from grief—it still needs to be felt, ideally within the safety of a team and with psychological support. In The Pitt, such a person exists—a social worker providing urgent emotional support not only to patients but also to staff.

In one episode, an elderly patient with pneumonia has an advance directive: antibiotics and fluids — yes; intubation — no. When his condition worsens, his children cannot accept his decision. The doctor, although he agrees with the patient’s wishes, does not impose his view. He simply says, ‘I can’t make that decision for you,’ and steps aside—remaining nearby. It’s a moment of greatest ethical clarity: the doctor stays present but does not take on a responsibility that isn’t his.

Training remains a recurring theme. Young doctors and students learn by observing their senior colleagues—not only medical procedures but also ethics and communication. In one episode, a student questions the high dose of morphine prescribed to a terminally ill patient. The experienced doctor replies calmly: ‘A little empathy goes a long way with those suffering pain.' It’s almost the series’ manifesto: empathy isn’t weakness, but a professional tool and a measure of competence.

Alongside personal stories, the series regularly revisits broader social themes: staff shortages, the aftermath of the pandemic, societal fatigue, and violence. These do not divert from the narrative but enrich it, illustrating that medical culture cannot exist in isolation from the realities faced by doctors and patients. This, too, makes the series particularly resonant for those in palliative care.