Resources

If anyone has similar experiences while pulling into your garage, please let me know. I am interested in studying this unknown disease and figuring out ways to combat it. Surely, somewhere, there is someone who pulls in, jumps out of his or her car with total glee, walks in and says “Honey! I’m home!”

Right?

For the rest of us, there is hope. It’s called retirement. And graduation. In the meantime, I’ve stashed dark chocolate almonds in the console of my car.

This month my institution lost a vibrant, talented member of our team to suicide.

Most likely, if you are in healthcare, you probably are thinking of a coworker you know who also took his or her own life.

Sadly, it is not uncommon.

I think how we treat our new parent colleagues, especially the first 24 hours back from maternity or paternity leave, speaks volume to the culture we create.

Sometimes we find ourselves in situations that are completely opposite of our plans. We are overwhelmed. We can’t see hope. We have no idea how our life will work out. We don’t know how we will do it. 

One of the most difficult things I must face each day is whether I stop and face the whistle, or decide to drown it out. How I respond to this decision, day in and day out, is what separates growth from decay.

 It is not just one doctor or one nurse who delivers your healthcare. We are the nuts and bolts of a well-oiled machine that requires everyone to show up, day in and day out, and do their part.

Confession: 

I am mother to four amazing, unique, vastly different, and loving children. I have no idea what I am doing. 

I’m going to talk about something controversial that affects ALL women. If you are a woman, please read. 

There is an intersection between professional and personal success. For years I have viewed this crossing as a utopian junction meant only for those who have finally arrived, finally achieved. Not anymore.

Whether I’m reading the news or buying shoes, I am overwhelmed with what the world defines as beauty:  perfect, symmetric, thin, flawless and smooth.

A few years ago two of my friends changed my life. For real. These two fellow doctors changed not only the speed but the direction I was going, so much so that I feel obligated to share it with you, even though I am sure many of you that know me will say, well duh Sash, what took you so long?

After my second child was born, I realized a harsh truth:

I could not be everything to everyone.

It took me almost 30 years to understand this. I was working as a full-time physician with unpredictable hours. I was trying desperately to make it all work; juggling hospital burdens with the ever-demanding job of being a mother. 

You would think, after time, our body and our minds would crave discipline; it would get easier to work hard at things we know are good for us but don’t feel great to do at the moment.

I was approaching 24 hours in the hospital and waiting for my partner to come into my operating room so we could do “hand-off”, where I spend 15 minutes going over all of the events of the surgical case and explain my patient’s health history, his current status, my current treatment strategies, the heart ultrasound findings, and our plan for the rest of the case. As I was awaiting my colleague’s arrival, I received a text from my son.