The arrest of vascular surgeon Michael David McKee in connection with the brutal double homicide of his ex-wife Monique Tepe and her husband Spencer Tepe has sent shockwaves through the medical community where he worked. Colleagues at OSF Saint Anthony Medical Center in Rockford, Illinois, where McKee commuted from his Chicago residence, have come forward with troubling accounts of his deteriorating condition in the months leading up to the December 30, 2025, killings in Columbus, Ohio. They describe a once-respected professional plagued by severe insomnia, noticeable hand tremors that impacted his surgical precision, and cryptic statements about soon “ending all the suffering” — comments that, in hindsight, take on a chilling new meaning.

McKee, 39, had built a successful career in vascular surgery after his 2017 divorce from Monique. He held licenses in Illinois, California, and previously Nevada, and was known for his skill in the operating room. Coworkers recalled him as professional, respectful, and collaborative during procedures. “He treated the team with respect, and we all loved working with him,” one former colleague shared, reflecting the general sentiment before signs of decline became apparent.

However, in recent months, McKee’s demeanor shifted noticeably. Colleagues observed persistent fatigue etched on his face, with dark circles under his eyes suggesting chronic sleep deprivation. He frequently mentioned struggling with insomnia, complaining that he could barely sleep more than a few hours a night despite long commutes between Chicago and Rockford — a roughly 90-minute drive each way that added to his exhaustion. The demanding schedule, combined with personal stressors, appeared to wear him down.

More alarming were reports of physical symptoms: his hands began to tremble noticeably. During procedures or even casual conversations, colleagues noticed a fine tremor that made tasks requiring steady precision more challenging. As a vascular surgeon, steady hands are essential, and these tremors raised concerns among peers about his ability to perform complex operations safely. Some speculated privately about underlying causes — stress, anxiety, possible medication side effects, or untreated conditions — but no one intervened formally, assuming it was temporary burnout common in high-pressure medical fields.

Amid these struggles, McKee made statements that now haunt those who heard them. In conversations with coworkers, he spoke vaguely but repeatedly about his pain and a desire for relief. He alluded to “ending all the suffering” soon, or variations like putting an end to his ongoing torment in the near future. Colleagues interpreted these as expressions of deep depression or frustration with his life circumstances — the grueling commute, professional pressures, lingering emotional wounds from his past marriage, or general dissatisfaction. No one connected the dots to potential violence; instead, they offered sympathy, suggesting he seek help or take time off. “We were floored by the news,” one coworker later said, emphasizing how unexpected the arrest was given McKee’s outward professionalism.

The hospital where McKee worked cooperated fully with authorities following his January 10, 2026, arrest near the facility. OSF Healthcare issued statements confirming their assistance in the investigation but declined further comment on his performance or personal issues. His name was quickly removed from staff directories, and the institution emphasized patient safety as a priority.

McKee’s personal life had unraveled long before these workplace signs. He married Monique in 2015 in Ohio, but the union lasted less than two years, ending in divorce in 2017 amid reports of emotional strain. Monique rebuilt her life, marrying Spencer Tepe in 2020 and starting a family with two young children. Spencer, a 37-year-old dentist, and Monique, 39, projected happiness in their Weinland Park home — a stark contrast to McKee’s reported isolation.

Investigators linked McKee to the crime through surveillance footage showing a person and vehicle matching his near the Tepe residence around the time of the shootings. A firearm recovered from his Illinois home matched evidence at the scene, including use of a suppressor. The couple was shot multiple times between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m., with no forced entry and their children left unharmed — details suggesting targeted intent.

McKee faces four counts of aggravated murder with firearm specifications and one count of aggravated burglary in Franklin County, Ohio. He waived extradition from Illinois and awaits trial, where prosecutors may explore motive tied to unresolved obsession or resentment over Monique’s new life.

The revelations from colleagues add a layer of tragedy: a highly skilled surgeon whose personal demons went unnoticed until it was too late. Mental health experts note that chronic insomnia and tremors can signal severe stress or depression, often exacerbated by professional isolation and unresolved trauma. In high-stakes fields like surgery, where admitting vulnerability can carry stigma, such signs are sometimes overlooked.

The Tepe family continues to grieve, remembering Monique and Spencer as loving parents whose lives were cut short. Community support in Columbus has been strong, with vigils and fundraisers for the children. McKee’s former coworkers express disbelief and sorrow, wondering if earlier intervention could have changed the outcome.

This case highlights the hidden battles many face, even in successful careers. What colleagues saw as burnout and despair may have been part of a darker spiral — one that ended in irreversible violence. As legal proceedings unfold, the focus remains on justice for the victims and understanding how unchecked pain can lead to devastation.