PTSD in Trauma and ICU

Bruce Powell • December 7, 2025

Me and the Space Shuttle Pilot


WTF am I doing on the stage?


I promised myself that I wouldn’t, but as usual I defaulted to humour. Joking about me and Pam, the extraordinary space shuttle pilot who spoke before me.

It is a coping strategy.

The trauma and critical care audience understood the trick. Make people laugh and you do not have to let them see what lies underneath. Six years on, it is time to stop pitching my experiences of brain injury and rebirth as a comedy set and start framing it in a way that actually serves people.


Trauma Is Not a Normal Workplace


Trauma and ICU are not normal environments.

They bend people.

Patients.

Families.

Clinicians.

Everyone absorbs something from the blast radius, whether they admit it or not. Even those of us who escape the obvious concussive effects of repeated psychological violence carry something quieter and more corrosive.

As leaders, we must be prepared to act when our colleagues are brave enough to raise their hands.

I now live on the other side of the bed. I do not like it. But it has given me a perspective I never wanted and can no longer ignore.

I do not have stories of volcanoes or space flight. I can only stand up and admit weakness and fear.


When Humour Becomes a Shield


There is a risk of me becoming a novelty act.

The ex-clinician with the brain injury.

The dark mouth.

The black jokes.

The touching photos of a life now past.

That is not why I speak.

Given the cognitive toll this takes on my brain, the anxiety and the tears, I owe it to myself to refine my message and focus my language.

If humour gets me in the room, fine.

But once I am there, I have a responsibility to say something real.


PTSD in ICU and Trauma Medicine Is Common and Poorly Managed


The simple truth is this.

PTSD in our profession is common.

It is under recognised.

It is poorly managed.

We push through.

We hide it.

We pretend we are fine.

I did all of that.

None of it worked. This is not resilience. This is survival mode dressed up as strength.


There Is No Simple Fix for PTSD


I do not have a blueprint.

I am not offering a treatment plan.

The only thing I know with certainty is this.

The first step is admitting that something is wrong.

Not in a dramatic way.

Not in a career ending way.

Just in an honest one.


From Clinician to Patient


That is the talk I owe people.

And that is the one I will give next time.




Hamlet cover with a black hand holding a white skull on a pale background
By Bruce Powell July 30, 2026
What Hamlet and the operating theatre reveal about automaticity, high performance, rehearsal and life after brain injury.
The Lancet Global Health logo in black and magenta text on a white background
By Bruce Powell July 13, 2026
An ICU doctor who became a brain injury survivor on why the world must finally count TBI as the chronic, lifelong condition it is.
Abstract portrait of a man with gray hair and beard, surrounded by chaotic scribbles, arrows, and geometric shapes
By Bruce Powell June 30, 2026
A traumatic brain injury exposed the ADHD that once powered my career. A raw, honest story about when a superpower turns curse
Red math book titled “The Book of Mathematics” standing on a wooden floor by a window.
By Bruce Powell June 23, 2026
A restless boy, nuns, Christian Brothers and a mind that refused to sit still. A childhood story about intelligence, shame and difference.
Sunset over a sandy beach with silhouettes of people near the waterline
By Bruce Powell June 16, 2026
An ICU doctor becomes the patient after a brain injury, and finds the language of burnout and trauma too thin for what's actually been lost.
Sketch of a man wearing headphones and glasses, seated and labeled “Bruce”
By Bruce Powell May 26, 2026
Former intensive care doctor turned brain injury patient and advocate reflects on recovery, identity, rehabilitation and life after survival.
Headway logo with a face in hands and the text “the brain injury association”
By Bruce Powell May 19, 2026
A reflection on caring, exhaustion and survival, and how writing, poetry and creativity offer carers a quiet place to put things down.
Waterfront city skyline across a calm blue bay under a clear sky, with a railing in the foreground
By Bruce Powell May 13, 2026
A near-fatal crash, a stranger by the river, and the uneasy recognition that sometimes survival depends on someone stopping to ask if you’re OK.
Fluffy brown dog with a dark face sitting outdoors on green grass, looking left
By Bruce Powell May 12, 2026
A brain injury survivor reflects on friendship, identity and uncertainty after trauma, where survival can feel lonelier than loss.
Red question marks blocking a blue arrow path between two rows of directional buttons
By Bruce Powell May 6, 2026
Experience teaches doctors how to stay calm when everything feels chaotic. High performance is often just structured thinking under pressure.
Show More