Author: Mindy N

You can call me Dr. Mindizz now!

Betrayed

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In 2018, I was a third year Emergency Medicine resident who was worried about starting a work out program, when I was going to get my final chest tubes so I could mark them off my procedure log, and when the f***k I could get out of Michigan. I had no clue what was about to happen. I, along with the rest of the world, didn’t know that our entire world would be turned upside down. I didn’t know that medicine, this thing that I had loved and worked towards my entire life, would turn into this angry thing that had betrayed me.

I started 2019 in much of the same way. I woke up, studied, and went to work. I had my life pre-programmed for me by yet another aspect of medical education. What rotation I worked, what hospital I worked at, and my schedule was all set by someone else. I was just beginning to become really confident in who I was as a doctor. I could finally really focus on emergency medicine and how I wanted to practice. And then, November happened…and with it a change no one was expecting. COVID was initially thought of as just another viral flu-like illness. And Michigan wasn’t in the hot seat, yet. But that soon changed. And our entire lives became overwhelmed with the thought of COVID – both professionally and personally. We were restricted to our homes, forced to wear masks for the first time in public, and isolated from others.

But even that wasn’t when I felt like medicine had betrayed me.

I went into 2020 excited to graduate and move home. I had a new job, a new apartment, and a new start. I was excited! And then I had issues getting my medical license for California because COVID slowed all paperwork down. So I sat in my new apartment and waited. Waited to be able to leave my house, waited to be able to work….waited.

And yet, my betrayal hadn’t happened yet.

I started my attending career during the second large surge of COVID in 2020 in California. I was overwhelmed with having crashing patients in new hospitals where I didn’t know the staff, let alone where the bathroom was. I was overwhelmed with the amount of CODES and death I was having to handle and deal with. I was overwhelmed with the sadness I had when I came home from every shift. I was overwhelmed with the amount of fatigue and exhaustion I was feeling as well as my staff. I was overwhelmed.

And still, my betrayal was waiting around the corner.

Soon, our COVID numbers declined and I was able to take a breathe again. But with that quiet, I was able to think. I second guessed every small decision, my hands shook when I had to do a procedure, and I started to have panic attacks. I would sit in the bathtub, crying, and dreading when I had to return to the hospital. I would turn my phone off in fear that someone would ask me to cover a shift or even worse, ask me about a case. I would snap at nurses, friends, and family. I researched careers in which I could use my medical degree without being in medicine. Even going so far as to research careers where I could just escape my medical degree altogether. I just kept repeating that life was supposed to be better as an attending! Attending status was the “golden ring” that I had been working towards since high school…..and it was tarnished and rusty.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I couldn’t continue like that. I had given up so much of my life to become a doctor that my job was basically my life, so hating my job meant that I hated my life. As a child, I had grown up in the hospital and fell in love. I had decided at a young age that my career was going to be medicine. My identity had been entwined with the idea/pursuit of becoming a doctor so much that giving medicine up felt like giving up my life.

And that’s when I realized that medicine had betrayed me.

While all my colleagues were experiencing burnout highly related to COVID, I was experiencing burnout just from medicine. No one else was crying in their bathtubs. No one else was researching how to open a small bakery in a New England town. No one else was struggling like I was.

I had been physically isolated due to COVID (for about 2 years now…) and while that was hard, this isolation struck much deeper. I didn’t know how to reconcile the freedom and happiness that was supposed to come with attending hood and what I was experiencing. I didn’t know how others could feel happy going to their job. I didn’t know how others weren’t paralyzed in self doubt with every patient. I didn’t know exactly what I was expecting from being an attending but it definitely wasn’t this.

I sat alone in this struggle for about a year. I went through the motions that accompany life – waking up, eating, showering, and seeing patients. I focused on my shortcomings and how I was failing as a doctor or not as good as my colleagues. Any praise or support was easily brushed aside in favor of my anxiety-ridden inner monologue. I cried in the bathroom again and again.

I reached out for help with my friends from medical school and residency. Ones who have sat in that library with me or in the pit of the ER. Ones who knew me and had also gone through the physical and mental rigors of the medical education marathon. I started to prioritize therapy focused on imposter syndrome, meditation, affirmations, and meditation. And these changes greatly improved my life and outlook.

However, I still saw this as a personal betrayal of my childhood love.

I wasn’t aware of how much this happens to people when they start out as attendings for the first time. I didn’t know that others, some much closer that I could have realized, experienced the same kind of fear and anxiety. The feeling that this thing that we loved, that we worked and sacrificed for could turn into something that we dread and hated.

And while I spent a lot of last year in silence, marinating in that feeling of betrayal. This year, I am being loud about my friendship with medicine. While I can’t say that I’m quite back to being infatuated with medicine like I was as a sweet, innocent medical student in the library, I can say that I don’t cry before shifts anymore. I’m excited to go to work and help people – from something as easy as a turkey sandwich to intense resuscitations. I’m comfortable asking for help when needed and not seeing that as a failure – but as a strength! I’m focused on being the doctor I always wanted to be.

So while medicine might have betrayed me, she’s making some amends.

Raft of Bitches

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Scenario One:

“Okay, sir, I just want to let you know that you’ll be here for at least 4 hours while we repeat your cardiac enzymes. So here’s the remote and call button. Let us know if your pain comes back.”

“YOU MEAN I HAVE TO WAIT THREE HOURS TO SEE A DOCTOR?” He screams in frustration.

Scenario Two:

“So, how was Dr. N? Was she kind? Did she listen to you?” My attending and medical director asks a patient that I have seen multiple times and just recently updated on his negative work up in the ED.

“Who?” The patient answers quizzically.

“The young woman that came in. The one that just told you that your labs were fine and you were going home.”

“Oh, that young girl? I thought she was a nurse.”

Being in residency, I have attendings who can teach me how to perform a chest tube, illicit a history that can lead me to the right diagnoses, and to interpret lab results. But, my residency is staffed almost completely with older white males that illicit the image of a quintessential doctor in pateints’ minds. They don’t walk into rooms and immediately have to repeat themselves that they are the doctor and assuage worries that I’m “too young” or “too female” to take care of them. They don’t have to tiptoe the line between being seen as a leader or a bitch. They don’t have to be seen as deficient.

And it’s been lonely swimming in that ocean by myself. I’ve had to weather storm after storm by myself, sometimes I am able to swim to shore safely. And sometimes, it’s all I can do to keep my head above water. I have had to learn on the job on what to say to assuage those fears, maintain relationships with nurses when I have to ask for a lab to be drawn three times, and how to make myself look like a doctor. I have had to figure these things our on my own.

On those days that I can barely keep my head above water, I’ve looked around for someone who looks like me [female] to hold onto as a buoy or rock in that water. Unfortunately, I have been alone in that sea. Until, FeminEM and Fix 17.

I was a scared second year resident who had never even gone to a movie on my own. And I signed up to travel to New York City and attend a new conference about females in Emergency Medicine. I was ecstatic to find a group of women who might be experiencing the same things I had, who could relate and empathize, and, most importantly, who could guide me. I didn’t have to swim alone anymore.

I was anxious and nervous the entire month leading up to the conference. It was my first professional conference in which I was going to be an actual Emergency Medicine physician and not a med student “hoping to be” one. I was anxious that I was going to be seen as less than for just being a resident, from being from a community hospital in the Midwest, and for being alone. Why should these women want to help me or be friends with me if I couldn’t even get another person to come with me somewhere for a few days?

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

That first FIX changed my life. I cried, laughed, and loved in that theater. I learned that we had to stand on the shoulders of those that came before us to advance even more. I found mentors and women who had come before me willing and happy to share their experiences and insights. I was freely and happily given contact information along with a hug. And for the first time in the rough seas of residency, I had buoys to hold onto.

That feeling boosted for me another year. I went back to my home institution and promised that the other female residents had to come with me the next year. Every time a patient mistook me for a nurse, didn’t trust that I could be a doctor given the youthfulness of my face or the genitals between my legs, I was buoyed by those other swimmers. I knew I wasn’t alone. I knew that they might not physically be next to me, but they were definitely weathering those waters with me.

Day after day, I walked into that Emergency Department with my head held high (some days were easier than others to keep my head held high) and saw patients. I treated patients for a range of complaints ranging from the mundane to the more life-threatening. And before I knew it, it was September 2018 and FIX 18 was just around the corner. But this year, I was excited instead of afraid to be in that auditorium. 

This year, I cried, laughed, and loved in that theater, again. I felt the same sense of belonging and safety that I had felt the previous year. And most importantly, I had shared that with some of my co-residents that were female and also feeling like their head couldn’t stay above water. My buoys were now their buoys.

Or, more accurately, our buoys were a raft. Hearing the stories of these women (and a few men) made me realize that these women weren’t above me in the water like a buoy. They were still experiencing the same discrimination, fear, and uncertainty that I was feeling. They were next to me in the water. However, they were holding a hand out to let me know I wasn’t alone. 

As Dara Krass said, female otters, known as “bitches”, link together by holding hands to form a raft, which will always lovingly be known as a “raft of bitches”. These “rafts of bitches” allow otters to survive in the dangerous waters much easier than if they were to weather the waters alone. Just like us. 

Each of those speakers held out a hand to every audience member. Each participant held out a hand to the audience member next to them. Quickly, the FeminEM community became a “raft of bitches”. We were able to laugh, cry, and learn together. We were able to see how our unique circumstances and abilities made us valuable to that raft. We were able to support each other. We were able to allow those struggling to keep their head above water to rest for just a second. We were able to just be.

But most importantly, we learned that our raft always has room for one more. Since otters’ rafts grow by holding hands, there is always an open and waiting hand at either end of the raft. And when that hand finds another hand, the newly minted member also has an open and waiting hand. 

Last year, we stood on the shoulders of those before us. This year, we held their hand. What are we going to do next year?

My Perfect Day

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While I am completely content in this moment; sitting under a blanket with Lily Pawter next to me and watching dumb Bravo shows; I was thinking of what makes a “perfect day”.  I think back on the days that have been particularly fun, exciting, or full of love. The days in which I laughed until my sides hurt so much, the sun set way before we were ready, and we felt happy, loved, and utterly content. And it’s always days that I’m with the people I love. We didn’t have to be doing anything particularly special, in fact most of those days are with us sitting around the living room in PJs and last night’s make up still on.

As I’ve grown older, it’s become much more apparent to me that our live is based on who we share it with. The people that are there for us when things are going great as well as when we need a shoulder to cry on or a hand to pull us back up to our greatness. Our real friends and family (which may or may not be actually blood related).

But making friends like that is hard to do. And as you get older, making new friends is even harder. Which should only make us cherish the ones that we have even more.

And I am extremely lucky that I have a great group of friends. I have my LV besties that have been with me since I was in the 7th grade, my med school homies, and most recently my residency crazies. Each group is unique and full of their own brand of fun and love. And each has been with me for an intensely important aspect of my life, many of them going through the same thing, that has solidified our bonds. I can’t even imagine my life without these people.

So let me tell you about these hooligans that help me create perfect days!

My LV besties have been in my life since I was in the 7th grade. They have seen me grow from my awkward stage with braces and curly hair that I couldn’t control. They know every deep, embarrassing secret and still agree to be seen with me in public – which is saying something! And they have also been my most constant cheer squad in this road towards medicine. They have heard me complain about every long, grueling exam I had to take, excuse myself from doing things with them so I could study, and celebrate when I got into medical school and then residency. They are my backbone. More than any other group, they have shaped me into the person I am since they grew up alongside me.

My med school homies have been the most amazing, entertaining, and loving group. These people are dedicated, smart, kind, and an extremely talented group of doctors. We spent hours together at the library studying with bursts of intense laughter to make the studying easier. We learned how to save people while saving each other. Right now, we have spread across the country to continue our education, but we have kept in contact and immediately fall back into our old habits when we see each other.

And finally, my most current group of residency crazies. As a whole, my residency is very close and we all hang out together on a pretty regular basis. However, like most residencies, it is my class that I am the closest to. We all moved from very different parts the country to one community hospital to learn Emergency Medicine. We were alone, scared to finally be doctors. And we found a family.

As long as these people are around me, I am having a perfect day. We can be sitting on a couch, watching dumb Bravo reality shows or something more special. But the important part is that they’re smiling and laughing next to me.

 

 

Finding my Inner Elsa

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My anxiety has taken lots of different forms over the years. But one of the most recurrent strategies it uses to plague my mind is to fixate and focus on things that make me feel uncomfortable.  I can lay in bed, about to go to sleep after a great day, and some very odd memory from five years ago in which I waved at someone but they didn’t see me will pop into my mind. Then another memory of when I snorted while laughing. Then another memory, each getting worse. Until soon I’m counting “awkward me”s instead of counting sheep. ecfb6a5438335ee7ae958f110ad1cf87-anna-disney-frozen-disney1

So, obviously, pulling an Elsa and “letting it go” is not my strong suit. In fact, I would say it is not my very DNA and really not my fault that I lack this ability!

But in an effort to extend my comfort zone, I am going to try to “let it go” a la the ice queen.

I’m not quite sure where to start with this task though, to be honest. I feel like I don’t try to actually hold onto things or memories, especially ones that make me feel uncomfortable about myself. Because, really, who would want to lay in bed, not sleeping, just counting down the hours you have left until you have to get up, with images of your most awkward and embarrassing moments? Who wants to hear your friends’ (sometimes your frenemies’) meanest comment about you right before you walk into an interview? Who wants to worry constantly?

Not this girl.

But, of course, we don’t always get what we want. 

I’m going to “let go” of the anxiety and fear that is holding me back in my life. I have let that fear prevent me from volunteering to do things/procedures, meeting people, and living my life to the fullest. I have stayed home, on that damn comfort zone couch, because I was afraid to be “the only one” to go to a social event. And then I have seen photos of those fun times on social media and been depressed and uncomfortable. Even on my comfort zone couch – can you believe the blasphemy?!

I might have to start small to get to that place where I can fully “let it go” a la Elsa, but that’s what life is all about. I’m working on this in therapy and with challenges like this. And each day is a new opportunity for me to try to evolve and push those boundaries of the couch comfort zone. I’m trying to be just as graceful and empathetic with myself as I am with others. Maybe tonight I’ll have “bad ass me”s to count instead of sheep!

Bath Happy

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Happiness to me is when I am reading in a bathtub.

reading-the-bath

As a young child, my mother was a single mother working long hours in a pediatric OR saving children’s lives. She was (and is) a bad ass. And I wanted to be her more than I wanted to be Barbie…which is saying something for a young girl. So obviously, I wanted to spend every single moment with her that I could. I would follow her around the house, copying her every move (as an adult, I can’t imagine how much harder I ended making small tasks because I wanted “to help” — I’m sorry Mom! I love you!), trying to learn how to be as amazing as her. I followed her everywhere, including the bathroom. To relax after a long day on her feet in surgery, my mother would take a bath and read a book. So, naturally, I had to as well. Within the warm water and bubbles and getting lost in whatever book I was reading at that time, I felt safe, loved, and protected.

To this day, that is my favorite thing to do. I can have the worst day where nothing goes right,  a bath and book can turn it all around. There is something so comforting, relaxing,  and heavenly about it that I just cannot find in anywhere else. The warm water caressing my body, cleansing it of the stress of the world, and harkening back to the carefree days of my childhood.

 

 

 

Crossing the Border to “Enough”

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My mother can tell you a lot about me — she knows my favorite foods, my deepest fears, who my best friends are, and almost everything else about me. But the one thing she will tell you that has never changed in my life is that I am afraid of change. Before any new change in my life, the night before, I am without a doubt in a state of almost sheer panic and have recently vomited. And she is there, either in person or on the phone if she is not personally available. And I mean any change. It messes with my need for things to be organized, balanced, and KNOWN.  I fixate and fear change because its unknown. Change brings out my insecurities that I am not “enough” (as in smart enough, funny enough, nice enough, etc). So often, I do what we all do when we fear and are uncomfortable with something, and stay in my comfort zone where I know that I am “enough”.

My comfort zone starts at my couch (as previously mentioned in my prior post about how much I love my couch) and ends right before change. And despite how much I would wish it to be, I cannot function as a fully whole individual from my couch. So I’ve had to learn to embrace change.

“I want to make a change in my life because”

Ironically, it was when I was sitting on that couch when I made the decision to make a change in my life. I was dead center in my comfort zone and staring at the edges that I hadn’t visited in a long time. I had let the fear keep me from even making the first step towards the edge of my comfort zone. I had become complacent and, to be honest, kind of boring.

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So, from my couch, I realized I needed to change. However, true to my nature, that alone made me uncomfortable and afraid. So I tried a few times previously but with very little effort and even fewer results. I stayed on my couch, deep center of my comfort zone, and pretended to want to cross the border.

But this time is different.

Instead of giving into the fear, I am embracing it. I am at the border and have tiptoed right up to the very line. I can almost taste the fresh air that supplies all of those people who are brave enough, daring enough to fully cross the border.

I want to change because I am tired of being afraid of the unknown associated with change. I want to change because I want to allow myself to grow and evolve. I want to change because I don’t want to look back on my life and regret that I stayed on my couch/comfort zone. I want to change because I want to be brave enough, daring enough. I want to change because I want to feel enough, even if I am not on my couch.

Hating Our Bodies

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Everyday we are bombarded with images of the “perfect” body, hair, face; what clothes are trendy and should be worn….images that don’t often coincide with what we see in the mirror.

This disconnect between what we are told we are supposed to look like and the reality of how we actually look can torment us and cause us to hate our bodies. We focus on it’s imperfections, flaws, wrinkles, and fat rolls. We remember the times it has failed us. We spend hours in front of our mirrors criticizing it. We hate our bodies.

Coming from a place of hate often leads people onto fitness journeys. Then, we spend hours focusing on tracking macros/calories and exercise routines. We speak about loving our bodies. But, in reality, we are just hating it in a different way.

So instead, Kat wants us to celebrate and love our bodies during this journey.

“I feel best in my body when”….

I feel best in my body when I am able to complete a procedure in the ED. I am capable of suturing lacerations, placing central lines, setting bones after fractures, and even inserting a breathing tube. My hands are literally capable of saving someone. And I waste my time focusing on how I have extra cushion around my midsection.

(Also, I am completely beat after working all day so this blog is a lot shorter than I have intended it to be. However, instead of just skipping it, I am trying that consistency secret sauce and sat down to write for a few minutes. You can’t be the best every day, but you can show up!)

Starting Somewhere

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“This month I will”….

Setting goals as always been something I have been able to do. And usually attain them.

From a young age, I was always really goal-oriented. I focused on getting that A, graduating high school, getting into a good college, and finally getting into medical school, residency, and a real attending job. Up to this point, the “becoming a doctor” goal totally eclipsed my life. But now, as residency is approaching it’s end (don’t get too excited, I still have 1.5 years left….), my goals, or the ability to set such goals, has wavered.

So I find it fitting that this challenge is focused on goal setting in the aspects of my life that I have allowed to be eclipsed.

“This month I will”….

  1. allow myself to be a beginner
  2. use this blog on a regular basis
  3. start

As a particularly ambitious and fairly intelligent person, being a beginner is not something I am good at -like at all. I pride myself on being “the smart one”, “the good one”, and “the problem-solver”. In fact, a large majority of my self identity is based on being those things. And problems, talents, or practically anything that threatens my identity are things that I tend to avoid. Like they are the plague. So I start things, try them out, and then realize that I am not immediately an amazing genius at that task and put those things to the side. But not this month. This month, I am going to embrace being a beginner and allow myself some grace in the process. For example, I’ve spoken on this blog before about how I have wanted to blog for a while. But, again because I do not like being a beginner and not immediately successful, I have started and stopped multiple times. But to do something, you have to start somewhere. So I’m going to be a beginner and work on this blog like I am working on myself.  Instead of second guessing every blog (as I am apt to do and promptly delete them) or life choice, I am going to continue to write and watch how my writing evolves along with my evolution. I am going to praise my writing for what it is and not criticize it like I have done previously.

In essence, this month, I’ll be starting. And while this month might just be a start. I can’t wait to see what I can do next month.

 

Small Smiles and Their Ray of Sunshine

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“I am grateful for….”

Grateful. Such a difficult word. We all walk around and talk about how we should be grateful, thankful, appreciative of what we have in our lives. But more often than not, we focus on the negative.

It’s rampant in our society – from the news, to anon social media accounts who recount every horrible interaction at work, and even to what we recount of our days to our loved ones. The negative gets more screen time and therefore more “mind time”.

So, it shouldn’t be any surprise that self-care has focused on changing that preoccupation from the negative to the positive. Even during a day where nothing has seemed to go according to plan, there is something you can be grateful for. You just have to want to see those things. To want to be put the energy into acknowledging, appreciating, and shifting your thinking towards these things. Granted, some days those little rays of sunshine are much harder to focus on through the rainy clouds of disappointment. I get it! I’m right there with you sister!

Part of this challenge has been to write three things you are grateful for each morning before you do anything – as a way to set yourself into the right mindset for your day. While this isn’t revolutionary, it is the first time I’ve actually sat down to do it. Heck, I even bought a “gratefulness journal” that’s been laying on my bedside table just staring at me since July….months and months of pages have just been left blank. And just like those blank pages, my grateful mindset has also been blank.

So while I’ve been lounging on my couch with a lovely virus present from a patient, I’ve been thinking of what makes me grateful. Instead of focusing on how I’m sick, how badly I feel, or be angry that I got this illness because someone came to the ED when they didn’t actually need to be there, I’ve been trying to focus on what makes me smile and laugh. At first this was a very daunting task. I felt like they needed to be deep, insightful reasons that make life worthwhile. But then I realized that I smile thousands of times a day and don’t judge those smiles – why should I be judging my “daily gratitude”? I can smile because my cat ran up to me and met me at the door, a coworker I haven’t seen in a while is at work with me, Zoey smiles and laughs during dinner, and many other seemingly superficial and mundane reasons. But it’s those smiles that make up my life and what I should be grateful for. Therefore, I can write whatever deep, insightful gratitude in my journal, but it’s the real smiles that will make a difference in how I see the world.

So, today I’m grateful for Zoey running across a crowded restaurant towards me, Lily Pawter’s endless amounts of cuddles, and my library card that allows me to read about different worlds/cultures/stories all from the comfort of my own couch.

Today, my gratitude reflects my daily life and what is important to me today. Tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll be deep and profound…..maybe.

 

My Three Loves; Mr. Couch, Mr. Netflix, and Mr. Chocolate Cake

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I’m in a rut. A monotonous routine of getting up, going to work, complaining about work, my lack of a love life, and my complete lack of motivation of get off my booty and work out/eat better. But c’mon, doesn’t chocolate cake and wine on the couch with the latest Netflix sound great after a long day? Especially if you’ve been yelled at by every patient for not getting to them fast enough, not being able to cure the common cold, or for telling that there is no emergent cause for their 6 month long episode of abdominal pain but that they should drink more water and eat more fiber so they poop more regularly….sometimes chocolate cake is the only thing that understands!

So that’s what I’ve been doing for a while. Sitting on my couch and complaining. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve done things to help my mental state and to get out of this rut. I regularly go to therapy and get a lot from it. I’ve read self help books. I’ve cleaned and organized my apartment multiple times so it feels like I have my life in order. I make time to go out and be social with other co-residents even if it’s just for a lunch after didactics or a movie. And I travel home (or really anywhere that isn’t Southeast Michigan) as much as possible. However, when left to my own devices, I’m sitting on my couch with Mr. Netflix and Mr. Chocolate Cake. We have a serious relationship and I’m not sure they’ll understand if I say “it’s not you, it’s me!”

And during one of these long “Netflix and Processed Sugar” binges, I actually paused and read the Instagram caption of one of my high school alums, Kat. I had previously tried out one of her monthly challenges, I did it half-assed like I had done many things previously in my life. I barely worked out and only kinda followed her macro/meal planning (where was my delicious and ever supportive Mr. Chocolate Cake? Obviously this wasn’t for me!). So I quit – just like I had done previously with the self help books advice, the countless diets I have tried in the past, and the journaling/blogging I have started and stopped so many times before. But I continued to follow her (maybe my subconscious was just waiting for the day to come when I actually read her captions). So my life continued of deepening my butt imprint on my couch, scrolling right past her posts full of praise, positivity and championing consistency (not my strong suit), and continuing to be unhappy.

Until about a month ago when I actually read one of the captions. To be honest, I can’t remember which one it was because, in actuality, it was just a pretty normal post for Keep Going Kat. But it made me stop and think. And kinda want to get up from my couch.

So I clicked on her page again and read some of the success stories (including her own). And I saw women who were smiling during their work outs, who had formed a community with other women spanning the globe trying to work on themselves. And I figured, I could try this one out too. So I went to her site (previously linked up there!) and put in my information and some money. And decided I was going to go to work!!! In three weeks when the challenge started – which meant that I had amble time to break up with Mr. Couch and Mr. Chocolate Cake….

And I started with all the ambition and motivation in the world! I was going to be a bad ass queen worthy of Beyonce and even Kat herself! I was going to go the distance!

And that lasted all of two weeks.

Work became busier with long stretches of night shifts, holidays were coming up….really, I could come up with a thousand excuses but really, I just missed Mr. Couch and Mr. Netflix and Chocolate Cake. Old habits are hard to break!

So Kat came out with a new challenge. Only this wasn’t going to be a challenge with a start and stop date. It was going to be a mindset change. One in which happiness, self love, positivity, and balance were the foremost important things and not what was happening on the scale. I signed up immediately.

I didn’t even think about it. I signed up. This was something that was going to help me in more than just the fitness/eating aspect of my life. This was going to change some of those bad habits. I might finally break up with Mr. Chocolate Cake, Mr. Couch, or Mr. Netflix (or at least balance out the time I spend with them and Mr. Yoga Mat and Mr. Dumbell! I mean, c’mon, I’m still a person here!)!

Which leads us to Day 1 of this “Fit for Life Method” and the mindset shift.

And since I’m sick, Mr. Couch and Mr. Netflix are still heavily involved in my life at the moment, and my workouts are going to have to wait. However, I can still start this new mindset shift with all my other bad ass ladies today.

Daily, I will work on the Transformation Journal that Kat has provided to help with this mindset shift. Hopefully, having the accountability of this blog will help with many of my goals: 1) not quitting everything I start like I have been known to do, 2) blog more frequently and often so that I can start my side-gig of medicine, 3) encourage others to try Kat and her community out!

So here it goes!

“My Intention for Today is”….to set an accountability goal for myself with this blog. I have always wanted to be a blogger and have started (and then deleted) my blogs hundreds of times. I have always loved writing and feel like I have a unique voice (I mean how many liberal, female ER docs from SoCal are in Southeast Michigan? Let me tell you, it’s one. It’s lonely out here…hence the love affair with Mr. Couch, Mr. Chocolate Cake, and Mr. Netflix!!!). Blogging about medicine, life as a young physician, current events, and even my own persona life has always been something I have wanted to do but have always been too scared to actually commit to doing. Using these journal prompts, Kat’s secret sauce (consistency), and my motivation for this mindset shift, seems like a good place to get started on just daily writing and posting.

So, readers, if you are out there, please keep me accountable! And enjoy the ride. I can’t guarantee where we’re going to end up, but I’m hoping the ride is worth it!