For inspiration, let us look to my tattoo artist's story. At eighteen—not yet tattooed himself—he walked into a tattoo shop in the Florida town where he grew up and said, "I want a job. I want to be a tattoo artist." The shop, a bristly biker scene, wasn't receptive. The owner told him to get … Continue reading Newsletter #108: Whatever It Takes for Work
Tag: quitting medicine
Newsletter #107: One Day You’ll Feel Better
First year of medical school, we were forced to take one humanities course. I chose Medicine and Literature. Our teacher was a retired Dean of Medicine. Bald as a basketball, round spectacled, and perpetually bow-tied, he could enter the room and own your respect without saying a word. Still cycling, he was spryer than us … Continue reading Newsletter #107: One Day You’ll Feel Better
Newsletter #106: Maybe I’m A Psycho
Before the pandemic, my screen time report was respectable. At the gym, I wouldn't listen to anything at all. Maybe I'm a psycho but it felt better, simpler, to just lift. I often left my phone in the apartment on short errands. No push notifications. I didn't yet have Twitter. Covid broke me. Well, covid, … Continue reading Newsletter #106: Maybe I’m A Psycho
Newsletter #105: Unhinged for Good Reason
We all have that one thing we need to be okay. A tidy house. Cardio. Diet Mountain Dew. A washed car. Vanderpump Rules. My thing is sleep. If everything else goes to hell, I'll be fine. If I've had eight hours of sleep. By the end of residency, sleep was my Alamo. The cavalry was … Continue reading Newsletter #105: Unhinged for Good Reason
Newsletter #103: The Unquestioned
Most mornings, I lock my phone into 'Do Not Disturb', shun the news, and generally avoid sound. I want unimpeded clarity. I have one shot to set sail with clarity. Because the morning's tailwind will only last so long. By afternoon, my phone miraculously exits 'Do Not Disturb' and news sneaks into my awareness as … Continue reading Newsletter #103: The Unquestioned
Newsletter #102: Where Capability Meets Its Death
Up to a certain point, cans are more valuable than our cannots. An important can from my early adulthood: learning I can be a teacher. I'd never taught anything, but I learned how. From then on, I knew I could do something I'd never done before. This has been a valuable understanding. Though, past a … Continue reading Newsletter #102: Where Capability Meets Its Death
Newsletter #101: “What Choice?”
If you can survive yet another Rounders reference, read on. Mike McDermott (Matt Damon) is standing on the threshold. If he turns around, he'll become an attorney. If he steps forward, he'll admit he's a poker player. At the halfway point of the movie, he still thinks it's possible to live both lives. And why … Continue reading Newsletter #101: “What Choice?”
Newsletter #100: The Wrong Turn to Right
Why did I stay inside medicine for so long? Why didn't I quit after a year? Or two? Or seven? I always knew what I wanted—which was to quit medicine—but I took one wrong turn and kept driving. For eight years. Why?!?!?!? My best guess is that I needed it. I went to medical school … Continue reading Newsletter #100: The Wrong Turn to Right
Newsletter #99: Where I Use to See Bears, I Saw Shipping Containers
Jiving hip-to-hip with the French Broad River, Amboy Road was my favorite cross-cut through Asheville. A superb scenic route, it had the essentials: views of flowing water, panoramas of an expansive park, trails full of conversing groups, and curiously, an old Nascar short-track converted into an outdoor cycling velodrome. On harder days, ones where I … Continue reading Newsletter #99: Where I Use to See Bears, I Saw Shipping Containers
Newsletter #98: This Ride Isn’t So Fun Anymore
Please, I just want to live at the tip of the spear again. As the projectile of my life flew through the air, I clung to its trailing feathers. The ride wasn't fun anymore; it was thrashing. A return to the spear's tip seemed impossible. So I tried to survive. Once, years before, I'd lived … Continue reading Newsletter #98: This Ride Isn’t So Fun Anymore
