Recently, on an average workday, my hand brushed against the small safety whistle clipped beside my ID badge. Most days, I don’t even remember the whistle is there, a “Happy Doctor’s Day” gift from a few years ago. I dutifully clipped it on, but I can’t say it makes me feel safer. I remember shrugging when I received it and thinking, well, it’s more practical than pizza. I also recall how it made me feel—expendable. But I didn’t dwell on that. I did what doctors always do, what we’re trained to do.