I forgot which body belonged to which family

Dear Delyara, I work in a hospital mortuary. During the recent winter surge, bodies arrived faster than families could make arrangements. Yesterday, I attached the wrong identification card to a trolley. The error was caught before release, but for twelve minutes, two families could have received the wrong dead person. I have not slept properly in weeks. Labels blur. Names repeat. Every shift requires precision while grief enters through phone calls, paperwork, and people begging to see someone one final time. My supervisor said no harm occurred and told me to be more careful. I have always been careful. That is why this terrifies me. The dead cannot correct us. Families trust that we preserve identity after every other function of the body has ended. Last night, I woke hearing trolley wheels. Today, I checked each tag five times and still did not trust my eyes. Burnout is usually described as exhaustion. In my work, it can become the moment one family kisses another family’s forehead.