Eight years ago, I hit a breaking point. After 14 years as a full-time general pediatrician, leading departments, taking hospital calls, working 60-hour weeks, and trying to be a present wife and mom of three, I was completely depleted. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and physically unwell. I couldn’t stay awake unless I was moving. My cholesterol was high, I was gaining weight, and I felt like I was failing at everything—especially myself.
I knew something had to change.
I hired a fitness coach, thinking I needed to work out more, but what I really needed was sleep. The coach helped me recognize this, and prioritizing rest gave me just enough energy to move my body again. And slowly, I learned how to be kinder to myself. My mantras became “Always have a backup plan” and “Start again tomorrow.”
At the time, I thought our family had a pretty healthy diet. It wasn’t until my husband stumbled upon an article about disease reversal through plant-based eating that I realized how wrong I was. That sparked a two-year journey that completely shifted the way I thought about food and health. I dove into the science of plant-based nutrition and the growing field of Lifestyle Medicine. It was eye-opening, humbling, and completely transformative (physically, emotionally, and mentally). My health parameters significantly improved over just six months, and I know now that I’m on a completely different trajectory that would not have been possible had I not substantially overhauled my nutrition.
By 2024, I had wrapped up 21 years in the military, the last six of which I spent helping integrate Lifestyle Medicine into military healthcare. I still saw kids occasionally in the clinic, but my main focus was prevention, education, and improving care systems. When I retired, I didn’t know what was next, but I knew that Lifestyle Medicine would always be part of who I am.
If you’d asked me then if I’d return to full-time outpatient pediatrics, I would’ve said no without hesitation. I had no desire to revisit the stress, the late-night anxiety, or the overwhelming pressure that once nearly broke me. But after ten months away from clinical care, something surprising happened: I got curious. I started remembering what I loved about pediatrics: cuddling cute babies, laughing with silly toddlers, and connecting with thoughtful adolescents. I missed helping families through hard moments, solving puzzles, and making people feel truly seen and heard.
So, I took a leap.
My youngest daughter, wise beyond her years, advised me using words she’s heard me say to her so many times, “Just give it a try, Mom! Maybe it will be fun!” So, I did.
My first day back was a swirl of doubt and excitement. This time, I was determined to do it differently. I chose an office far from my exam rooms so I’d get more steps. I requested a laptop to be more efficient while moving between patient rooms, a dictation mic to ease documentation, and a sit-stand desk. I even scoped out stairwells for 5-minute breaks to climb a few flights and reset. It sounds small, but those choices made me feel like I had some control.
Still, I was scared, afraid of having made a big mistake.
While I waited for my credentials to be finalized, I shadowed another physician. One day, I sat in on a visit with a mom in tears, overwhelmed about her child’s health. I listened. I reassured her. I gave her tools, support, and space to breathe. When I walked out of that room, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: this is where I belong.
Don’t get me wrong…this path isn’t easy. Medicine today is harder in many ways. Systems are broken. We’re pressured to rush, prescribe, and move on. We’re often too tired to talk about the root causes of illness, especially when that conversation takes more time, and especially when it involves things like food, stress, and sleep.
But I can’t stay silent.
In just my first few weeks, I’ve been viscerally reminded how far we still have to go. Most of the kids I’ve seen eat zero to one vegetable a day. Some haven’t eaten any in years. And many parents have simply stopped trying. But nutrition is everything. It fuels brain development, supports immune function, and lowers future risk for so many chronic diseases.
Even if the message doesn’t always land, I keep sharing it…because sometimes, I see a parent’s eyes light up, or a child says, “I want to try that!” And in those moments, I know I’ve made a small difference.
This second go-around in full-time clinical care isn’t a repeat of the first. It’s more grounded, more intentional, and deeply personal. I’m not chasing perfection…I’m here to care…for my patients, yes, but also for myself. I’ve learned an important lesson the hard way: if I don’t take good care of myself, there’s nothing left to give anyone else.
And that, to me, feels like a very good place to begin again.
