tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65143621672343380002024-03-23T04:51:47.626-07:00compassionate healingJulie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-37234767057339677272024-03-12T12:45:00.000-07:002024-03-12T13:21:56.099-07:00You can't be all things<p>On the surface, it can sound pretty exciting to be a full-spectrum family medicine physician and Associate Clinical Professor, Wellness Director for the Department of Family Medicine, Wellness Director for Graduate Medical Education, and Co-Director for the School of Medicine's new Compassionate Action and Real Engagement in the Community course. The reality:</p><p>~30 residents with varying needs and feedback on my teaching style and engagement</p><p>~75 faculty colleagues with a myriad of needs with respect to their wellness </p><p>~150 medical students with varying opinions of our compassion course</p><p>~700 patients on my panel with a number of perspectives on the care I provide</p><p>~1000 residents and fellows with a myriad of needs with respect to their wellness</p><p>Every time I have to read through feedback, be it from colleagues or learners or patients, I can be so filled with dread. The fact of the matter is that I really want everyone to be happy and it kills me when people feel that their needs aren't being met. Whether I'm caring for patients or teaching and mentoring, I want people to feel supported, listened to, cared for. </p><p>When you get feedback that you are too close for comfort, and try to back off, then you are at risk of being called disengaged. When you offer openness to feedback and co-creation, if you don't incorporate all the ideas, you can be seen as dismissive. It's a dizzying pendulum swing. </p><p>In our efforts to try to be all things to be all people, our identity and values can easily become compromised. I am trying to keep that in mind as I forge a path forward with so many factors weighing on my conscience.</p><p>I know that I cannot be perfect, and given the privilege I have to be involved in the lives of so many people, there are going to be some unhappy people. And I have to be okay with that. It's just really uncomfortable. And I have to make up for it with more self-care and therapy and self-assurance that if I stay true to myself, I can lean on the inner compass to guide me forward as a leader, educator, and healer. </p><p>I'm going to challenge myself with a little reframe - I'm so grateful that I am in a position to fuss over these "first world problems" and that I have the agency to have a seat at the table to use my voice and enact change. I just need to lean into personal resiliency a bit more so I'm prepared for the inevitable challenges along the way.</p><p>I appreciate those of you who made it through this vulnerability post which offered me a little catharsis at a tough time. If this struggle speaks to any of you out there in mentoring or leadership roles, know that you are not alone. And I'm happy to grab coffee or Zoom and decompress and strategize as we work through how we can show up as our best selves in our work. </p><p>And just remember:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZbIFBjpI_h2ePxEMpgai0-cefglCjICPu44KdprHP4SAr3w1bV6bfMlJ9Nm54Njiaiauhu4lYjatpRUXdH_inrCrgHYka_Z6TwVV9vOCSdXB1H9Ltdv1WqnnrK5_bi6jYe-P8iJPudkRebuptK_5C_NFUHDvMXFJChRl6zGQEO4vtt6xNzLju79Cen86/s3088/IMG_5901.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZbIFBjpI_h2ePxEMpgai0-cefglCjICPu44KdprHP4SAr3w1bV6bfMlJ9Nm54Njiaiauhu4lYjatpRUXdH_inrCrgHYka_Z6TwVV9vOCSdXB1H9Ltdv1WqnnrK5_bi6jYe-P8iJPudkRebuptK_5C_NFUHDvMXFJChRl6zGQEO4vtt6xNzLju79Cen86/s320/IMG_5901.heic" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-46968617927144725392024-02-08T23:55:00.000-08:002024-02-08T23:55:12.355-08:00Maybe it all works out <p>I told my 9-year-old daughter that I was giving a talk tomorrow and was feeling a little nervous, and she said, “Oh, Mama. You say this every time you give a talk, and it always turns out fine.”</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5eKgiZyUHfxB5v4kQ3W0W0IjfDRxshzu9vKKET6yPpUOxj-31tKMVzzuY9sjM2bfaIwIE6De5U2fwXtVJuuo16OBtegvrK1dJVK9aD1tLEx0x2yXhCsc6qVznev0jxGdQ3SZzXc6OiGVkwvmrk38-8T-COaYfk8r_3Rn92qj2TJ6biTMed1AGp2gIYP2/s4032/IMG_5492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5eKgiZyUHfxB5v4kQ3W0W0IjfDRxshzu9vKKET6yPpUOxj-31tKMVzzuY9sjM2bfaIwIE6De5U2fwXtVJuuo16OBtegvrK1dJVK9aD1tLEx0x2yXhCsc6qVznev0jxGdQ3SZzXc6OiGVkwvmrk38-8T-COaYfk8r_3Rn92qj2TJ6biTMed1AGp2gIYP2/s320/IMG_5492.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><p>Holy smokes, y’all.. my tween dropped some solid wisdom helping me identify my cognitive distortion- </p><p>The thought: You worry something won’t work out well<br />The reality: You’re always prepared and it always goes fine </p><p>While planning for the worst has historically been a solid strategy for me that I’ve used to my advantage to try to stay at the top of my game, the mental load is heavy and it is so unnecessary. What if, just maybe, it all works out?</p><p>Trusting my inner wisdom and experience is so much more freeing than anticipating the worst. And sometimes you have to hear the facts from someone outside of yourself to knock you back into reality. Yet another reason why I am such a fan of talk therapy and embracing some vulnerability with friends and loved ones to externalize the unhelpful thought streams that can take you on a wild ride.</p><p>Our thoughts can be our best friend, or our worst enemy. We can choose to embrace a self-compassionate voice of reason but often find ourselves enmeshed in the rants of a self-critical catastrophizer. It seems obvious what the default should be, but our negative bias can lead us down some scary paths.</p><p>So when I see myself starting to spiral, I try to ask myself, “Is this thought helpful? Is it true? What are the facts here?” And while that’s all fine and good if we are in the headspace to do this thought work, it’s also perfectly acceptable to just try to focus on releasing the unhelpful thoughts and just breathing and grounding yourself until you are a little more regulated. I find that I use these strategies with patients not infrequently, but only recently have I started taking the time to do it for myself.</p><p>Can you imagine the healing we could bring ourselves, if we gave more freely to ourselves all the goodness we pour out in others?</p><p>I've been crafting a session on self-compassion for our medical students, and it's been, well, damn hard - because I feel like I'm kinda bad at the whole self-compassion thing. But, as a thought experiment, the self-compassionate part of me wants to say...</p><p><i>Maybe you don't have to be an expert at this. Maybe you can just share your truth about the struggles of self-compassion. There is powerful learning in that, too. And maybe you can own some of the small wins that you've experienced in the beauty of self-compassion, because that can be accessible and inspiring to others. And maybe you can fall back on collective wisdom and encourage others to share their stories, because that is a strength you have, to build safe spaces for authentic presence.</i></p><p>Ack, even saying that last part, telling myself I'm good at something, feels weird. But a wise person once told me, keep doing the good self-care and self-talk - eventually it will feel natural and normal. It's only weird because it's not happening enough. </p><p>May we all fill ourselves back up, trust our voice, and get grounded in our strengths to buoy us even in the hard times.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-90423291712982645552023-12-30T01:23:00.000-08:002023-12-30T01:23:36.620-08:00singing bowl wisdom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3eFjKixGw2IBBAv9uCzPk73c4_pAivM1nW-k4goNHW5_yYGBvwpzHTbGAInAZrrHgAcgphEyyNxQTNNBiR2Sbk1ANY4wWxwv29rw-MeVSKhv3lA-VlBDcoA-LjP_5qDBgapFxOJ7_GsV5UDseBKjrfqxQvHioPYuLWcBf7HNJtUiLtCu_Uh5el4_ST7op/s3685/IMG_5519.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3685" data-original-width="3019" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3eFjKixGw2IBBAv9uCzPk73c4_pAivM1nW-k4goNHW5_yYGBvwpzHTbGAInAZrrHgAcgphEyyNxQTNNBiR2Sbk1ANY4wWxwv29rw-MeVSKhv3lA-VlBDcoA-LjP_5qDBgapFxOJ7_GsV5UDseBKjrfqxQvHioPYuLWcBf7HNJtUiLtCu_Uh5el4_ST7op/s320/IMG_5519.JPG" width="262" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I gifted my son a singing bowl for one of his Christmas presents this year. He can get revved up sometimes (I mean, don't we all?), and I was looking for new ways to help him reset. While it has been nothing less than adorable seeing him mesmerized as he creates sounds through the house, I had no idea how this small treasure would resonate with me so deeply, as well (no pun intended). </div><div><br /></div><div>My main experience with Tibetan singing bowls in the past has been when I've been practicing yoga or listening to a meditation. While the sounds were calming, I never really thought too much more about it, and certainly had very little experience with the concept of sound healing. As I have been working with my son to help him play his singing bowl, I've learned a few things along the way:</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Be firm, but gentle </i>- don't cling to the mallet too hard, willing the sound to carry</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Take it slow </i>- don't rush it as you swirl the mallet around the bowl</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Let it in</i> - let the sound envelop you and give you what you need</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Try a different angle </i>- if the sound isn't quite what you expected, angle the mallet differently and see what results</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Let it build</i> - sometimes the most powerful tones result when you just run the mallet around the bowl without striking</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Balancing a steadfast approach with a little bit of give.<br />Fighting the inertia to rush through things.<br />Keeping an open mind and heart to fully embrace the experience.<br />Allowing yourself to be nimble with new approaches.<br />Luxuriating in a powerful (r)evolutionary process.</div><div><br /></div><div>Friends, my intentions for 2024 have just fallen into my lap!</div><div><br /></div><div>Resolutions may come and go - often, they are overly lofty or detailed, and easily forgotten. Instead, some people use certain visuals or mantras to ground them in what is important and true in life. Similarly, setting intentions, and grounding them into a concept that is easily accessible, can be a powerful ritual. As a new year is upon us, I am inspired to channel this singing bowl wisdom into my daily life, and wish you all to find or hold onto that something that anchors you in your truth.</div><div><i><br /></i></div>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-80078609226100196732023-09-12T22:59:00.002-07:002023-09-12T23:18:19.457-07:00Make Your Mark<p>One of my favorite parts of the day is cuddle time in the evening with our kids as they are winding down for bed. Yawning and cozy, we reflect on the day that's gone and what's to come, giggle, and sing lullabies to each other. I know one day, this tradition will end and I am soaking it up as much as I can. Besides the joy of the oxytocin rush I get with these sweet embraces, I have also been inspired by some of the incredible wisdom that has emerged out of the mouths of these babes...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzqzOqz2-24QhmxpBQ-9uWMpWY6lN_7Vtr06T6Yjk6A1wRISP8Aox0E5LLhu9SiOhznv5RLU53-sdZGD5Z3Gt-jh0EXJB1rsrA-wwdDZjRXQeaj1s1dzzHxosiGJyqVI4fMT2y67b-EhjiMuc1bJh9yraQsrQly2uaj-DfOMnc9tQHM9EfVzh78ftNdsr/s3088/EEC9C3A7-96BA-46DE-9B13-C04F94AD5372.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzqzOqz2-24QhmxpBQ-9uWMpWY6lN_7Vtr06T6Yjk6A1wRISP8Aox0E5LLhu9SiOhznv5RLU53-sdZGD5Z3Gt-jh0EXJB1rsrA-wwdDZjRXQeaj1s1dzzHxosiGJyqVI4fMT2y67b-EhjiMuc1bJh9yraQsrQly2uaj-DfOMnc9tQHM9EfVzh78ftNdsr/s320/EEC9C3A7-96BA-46DE-9B13-C04F94AD5372.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><p>The other night, we somehow came upon a discussion on the meaning of life, and my 9-year-old said, </p><p><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span> </span><span> </span>Maybe it's all about making your mark. </span></i></p><p>I was shocked to hear such a profound commentary from my daughter and I feel like it so eloquently described a fundamental aspect of my vision statement for life. While I do feel that finding our joy in life is so crucial, I believe that an extension of that is the impact you choose to have on others as you pursue your passions. When we can follow our bliss and "make our mark" in a palpable and positive way, it can be so empowering for all involved.</p><p>It always throws me when patients tell me that some thing I said to them years ago significantly changed the trajectory of their health journey. I mean, we do our best to take care of patients when they come through our doors, but so often it feels that our impact ends there. Hearing these stories from patients is a reminder of the profound effect our words and actions can have, either for good or bad. This doesn't mean we need to walk on eggshells or overthink every single thing we say. On the contrary, when we can truly realize our self-efficacy and capacity for effecting change, we can help more folks take on seemingly insurmountable challenges, whether it is getting a chronic condition under control, facing the end of life with equanimity, or emerging from trauma.</p><p>I'll never forget when a patient told me after going through sexual assault that my words of encouragement from a prior visit echoed in her head and empowered her to fight back and save herself. Or the patient who finally quit smoking after the millionth time that I bothered him about it. Or the chronically anxious patient who finally found some peace when she realized her suffering and accepted treatment. These stories can easily become faded memories, but I am challenging myself to hold them in my heart more deeply, so I never lose trust in the power of compassionate presence. Just as these humans found hope and healing through connection, I, too, felt uplifted and inspired - in the human capacity for change and growth, and the part I could play in that process. This is one way that I make my mark. This is a fundamental part of my why. </p><p>How do you make your mark? How do you want to have an impact?</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-69422676340659853332023-09-03T00:43:00.002-07:002023-09-03T00:43:23.121-07:00Puzzling as Progress<p>So I decided to bust out a new 1000 piece puzzle two weeks ago for a fun family activity as the tropical storm was heading towards San Diego. I always associated puzzles with rest, mindfulness, and bonding with loved ones, so I was excited to get started. It was all fine and good at first, until my family members gradually tired of the extremely challenging work of getting the intricate pieces to come together, and they peeled away and busied themselves with other things. Then it became my project.</p><p>My partner regularly complained about how it was taking up too much room, and threatened to box it up when I was gone for a conference the following week. But when I came back, it was still there! He saved it for me. It seems like such a silly gesture, but suddenly I was filled with new resolve. If Cory didn't put it away, maybe he thinks I can do this thing after all. I found myself determined to prove that I could finish it. </p><p>Every day, I tried my darnedest to make progress, but it was slow going. I felt the undone puzzle hanging over me, and it seemed weird how much I let it get to me. But it became obvious that the puzzle symbolized something more, reminding me of difficult things that I need to do that I tend to procrastinate or avoid. So every day, I spent some time chipping away at it. At first, I felt like I was barely making any progress. Then I found new approaches like focusing on identifying distinctive puzzle shapes rather than color patterns, or zeroing in on one section of the puzzle, which made me feel less overwhelmed by the more monumental task of getting it all done. I would mess with the lighting in the room or look at the puzzle from a different angle and sometimes that helped me find a path forward. Heck, the kids even joined in sometimes and helped me turn a corner a couple times when I was hitting a roadblock.</p><p>This simple puzzle ritual became an exercise in persistence and patience, and really forced me to just trust the process. I came to believe that I could really get it done and started to look forward to my solo meditative time as I slowly put the pieces together. Suddenly I wasn't checking work email after hours or obsessing over my to-do list. And when I did have to buckle down and do some work, I felt I had more bandwidth to complete other responsibilities because I had been committed to this "non-productive" downtime which naturally created some healthy boundaries between work and home. </p><p>So, 13 days later, the puzzle is complete. I admired my work, and the finished product was missing two pieces - no surprise with two young kids and a playful cat at home! It made me smile and remember one of my favorite mantras these days, "Done, not perfect."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8Ll4t2cNW7-mmsSTMNCAOTcM-YakHkDXB_6aMG8_RGfdX8iSEQ3kx4sbFcknzJ5y-jG_sGmjNrK8pYeIoFItars3uti2q0h6Jx-pyPwatkQT7m-b6sFHC_Bu5z8JsruXrGTvYXDQjfpgKPeZuKk4qkRcSPPZKzTnC6xoTTkNtVaCYZ7ZAFykqWPDyUQj/s4030/IMG_4144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3022" data-original-width="4030" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik8Ll4t2cNW7-mmsSTMNCAOTcM-YakHkDXB_6aMG8_RGfdX8iSEQ3kx4sbFcknzJ5y-jG_sGmjNrK8pYeIoFItars3uti2q0h6Jx-pyPwatkQT7m-b6sFHC_Bu5z8JsruXrGTvYXDQjfpgKPeZuKk4qkRcSPPZKzTnC6xoTTkNtVaCYZ7ZAFykqWPDyUQj/s320/IMG_4144.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>These are the lessons I've taken from what will be henceforth known as The Puzzle Project:</p><p>*Whether someone believes in you or not can easily sway your confidence, but in the end, faith in yourself is what will propel you forward.<br />*Embracing some flexibility in perspective taking can be a game-changer and support growth.<br />*You don't have to do it all alone - a little help from someone else can be just what you need to overcome a seemingly insurmountable hurdle.<br />*Creating space for creativity and play is a vital component of work-life integration.<br />*Release the pressure to be perfect and celebrate the good (enough).</p><p>We can do hard things! And have fun in the process.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-54226425932935099812023-06-29T13:09:00.003-07:002023-06-29T13:20:46.963-07:00Enjoying the Descent<p>I was coming down from a high of organizing and running the <a href="http://www.sandiegoafp.org" target="_blank">SDAFP</a> symposium - it was an incredible event, if I do say so myself, bringing together almost 200 family docs for an extensive CME program that I painstakingly curated with the support of our Executive Director and Board of Directors. The energy of our community was invigorating!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBRxQatUSATXbOAZpS6K9AtVskaf51ZKigpmUTzRQAP6rgr20TC_0O977TbchqfEF9ha8D0bMlHAiVKHEnojAob4DD8DxdGfDDhdVqlVkee6NXvco66kcQe87dDfDZ5o3z0EPGF30f-2-tkC6NX_rjCCvrjwTUrcWWqmwaDd2ux9dEZ8sfzslKUGzii8b5" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBRxQatUSATXbOAZpS6K9AtVskaf51ZKigpmUTzRQAP6rgr20TC_0O977TbchqfEF9ha8D0bMlHAiVKHEnojAob4DD8DxdGfDDhdVqlVkee6NXvco66kcQe87dDfDZ5o3z0EPGF30f-2-tkC6NX_rjCCvrjwTUrcWWqmwaDd2ux9dEZ8sfzslKUGzii8b5" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Then it was right back into work the next day with some heavy emotional labor in patient care. And finally time to address some personal health issues that I had put off. Not to mention some clinic inbox issues had piled up - it was catch up time!</p><p>I was talking to my daughter as we drove up to the library after a long day. I was likely distracted by our conversation, my mental to-do list, and not to mention the emerging pain in my face after the lidocaine was wearing off from a minor derm surgery earlier that day. I cut in to the lot too early and hit the curb, busting a tire and cracking my steering column, rendering it useless and leaving us stunned. Thankfully we were safe, not hurt, and right where we were headed. I sent my daughter in to get her library books while I scheduled a tow through AAA. So many kind souls popped over to check in on me. I was pretty scattered at the time, but on reflection, I am so grateful to live in a community where people really look out for one another. And I'm so happy to have AAA and tow service within minutes at the touch of a button. And I know how lucky I am to have a flexible career where I can cancel clinic last-minute for an emergency and not worry about losing my job. I absolutely recognize the privilege I have of resources and technology so I can skate through a crisis relatively unscathed.</p><p>The next day, with my clinic schedule cleared and this unexpected gift of "free time", I opened up a little bandwidth to understand what happened. Ater I Lyfted my kids to summer camp and made a plan with the local auto repair shop, I decided to take a mindful walk home. It involved scaling a sizable hill - I felt the burn in my legs and focused on my breathing while I huffed and puffed to the top. And when I got to the summit, I was able to pause and take in a beautiful vista of my town, framed by the Pacific Ocean, and found myself filled with a sense of peace and wonder. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwz0TSwa7BSww56H9Cg80Ghve1Iqb6p3JiDBGKokRE7a2BELAvgdH1Std1rUJdgB-7hSDGlZSzqWG-usO6QL_pd-gP2rAsctQggwXABFpth4ntdZ_UWpPbDlI8BnPd7llBbV8ynCsu5Hz4X1vDFdPgD3OaowCzBZSpF8fTqzrzRg4EKli8cfYrETMj-Tl2" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgwz0TSwa7BSww56H9Cg80Ghve1Iqb6p3JiDBGKokRE7a2BELAvgdH1Std1rUJdgB-7hSDGlZSzqWG-usO6QL_pd-gP2rAsctQggwXABFpth4ntdZ_UWpPbDlI8BnPd7llBbV8ynCsu5Hz4X1vDFdPgD3OaowCzBZSpF8fTqzrzRg4EKli8cfYrETMj-Tl2" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Then I got to enjoy an easy downhill trek as I descended into my neighborhood, and felt more ready to take on the many tasks at hand. It made me remember a simple truth - it is so important to challenge ourselves and stretch ourselves, but it is equally important to set aside time to replenish ourselves when we've been through some major things, so we don't get worn down.</p><p>I was so stretched and depleted, it's no wonder I put myself at risk of an accident. As my kind Lyft driver reminded me this morning, "we are not machines!" We are human beings who need to rest. I know this, I tell my patients this, I've written about this probably countless times, but sometimes I still forget to apply it to my life. Ideally we don't wait for crises to emerge to stop and take care of ourselves, but sometimes that's what has to happen to do the hard reset. And that's OK. We're fallible creatures, but we can learn and try to do better the next time. I do notice that I am better able to bounce back after mis-steps these days, leaning into self-compassion and curiosity to examine the situation with more clarity than in the past. And I'm able to access equanimity a lot more easily by finding strength through a gratitude practice when facing life's challenges. These tools have become a crucial part of my resiliency and a healthier growth mindset. </p><p>So may we definitely climb the mountains, but may we also not forget to take time to enjoy the descent before tackling the next summit.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-34239077104082237912023-05-27T22:39:00.005-07:002023-05-27T22:41:40.305-07:00Just write<p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">In medicine, we soak up so much suffering on a daily basis. Sure, there is a lot of joy and connection and laughs and inspiration. But the number of times I have felt a patient's trauma in the core of my being is innumerable. The cumulative grief and pain is too much for any human to bear. So we have a few options - </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">1. Box it up. Compartmentalize. We all have to do this to a certain extent in a busy work day. We can have a really difficult conversation with a patient on hospice and then have to head into a well baby check, all smiles. But some people continually keep all the hard emotions buried down deep, hoping they will never come out (spoiler alert: repressed feelings often rear their head at the most inopportune times).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>2. Feel it all. Have no boundaries. </span><span>Lose your sense of self. </span><span>Simmer in the pain of sympathy and notice it creep into all the corners of your life. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">3. Process it. This can look a lot of ways, whether it's a <a href="https://www.americanbalintsociety.org/" target="_blank">Balint</a> group, therapy, meditation, creative arts, or writing. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">For me, writing is a critical elixir to stay healthy and whole as a healer. When I face hard times with a patient, and I feel the pain gripping my heart in unhealthy ways and sending me on my way to option 2 above, I am called to write. In this way, I can search for understanding in the midst of the suffering, even if it is just trying to make sense of my feelings. This ritual helps me ground myself in a deeper wisdom by metabolizing the pain in my own reflective process.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHigreiDHPBYxdp7MXCC2k55IUAweDqv-3UaOvtPZ2SZJUWxv3Wk_rvhTFAJmcYZwR31FGUfQx8mxfpEJJ5ZbjDdXSviUzCT_m--5XThkYuPNUH3iMdQvHBt0yzRm0nu4zNLeriV_nm5xocBoqI9_mV-sIAlCzFjX3JActd8_83fRI0eGi-KEdTRIag/s4032/IMG_1330.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuHigreiDHPBYxdp7MXCC2k55IUAweDqv-3UaOvtPZ2SZJUWxv3Wk_rvhTFAJmcYZwR31FGUfQx8mxfpEJJ5ZbjDdXSviUzCT_m--5XThkYuPNUH3iMdQvHBt0yzRm0nu4zNLeriV_nm5xocBoqI9_mV-sIAlCzFjX3JActd8_83fRI0eGi-KEdTRIag/s320/IMG_1330.HEIC" width="240" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I have started a tradition of giving journals to my learners, encouraging them to write about their experiences in medical school as a therapeutic outlet, and also to be able to remember some critical moments that might otherwise fade into a distant memory. Many have told me how powerful it has been to journal during such a demanding time of their lives. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Journaling might not be for everyone, but I do feel that creating space for oneself to process the heavy stuff in medicine is pretty critical and an accessible antidote for cynicism, numbing, and emotional exhaustion.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And I have found it so meaningful to take it to the next level by sharing my story and remembering the common humanity of so many of life's challenges - but more on that another day.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">For now, find time to just write. You won't regret it. </span></p><p><br /></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-62853688637559417022023-05-15T08:43:00.000-07:002023-05-15T08:43:13.417-07:00Moving through uncertainty <p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I was on a solo road trip recently to a conference and at some point on the journey, I was met with a dense fog that cloaked the highway for several miles. It was disconcerting and disorienting, and forced me to zero in on what was right in front of me. The little that I could see had to become my guiding point, and it took a lot of present-moment awareness to stay focused on the path forward, even though it felt very uncertain. </span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">I tend to be a very future-oriented person, so leaning into contemplative practices like meditation and mindfulness have forced me to embrace some discomfort to see things a different way. I find comfort in planning and looking forward and what’s ahead, to feel more sure in the present moment. But sometimes in life, we will get mucked up in some things that are unclear, dynamic and </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">unexpected. And we have to reorient and ground ourselves in what we do know, even if it doesn’t seem like much. When there isn’t much extrinsic information, we have to go inward to our intuition to guide us. That comes naturally to some more than others, but certainly we can all practice sinking into our inner knowing more often. As social beings, we easily can look outward for guidance on which way to go, but sometimes that takes us on a very different path than we would have chosen for ourselves.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">Eventually I did make it through the fog and was able to breathe more easily as I finished up the trip on a nice sunny stretch. It was a little scary, but I was grateful that I trusted myself to move through the uncertain path. I found that it put me in a helpful mindset as I embarked on the wellness conference, trusting my voice more to speak up and connect with new people. When we get comfortable with the unknown a bit more, it really can empower us to meet it with grace in our daily life.</span></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-76939644836837447672023-04-07T23:23:00.002-07:002023-04-07T23:24:51.734-07:00Stuck in knots<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0sQUVNhVjovT1nNlof_OT00KBErW1IGGd6SMLCwmAxVNfal_d-iz6Kmd4TTlDX9pCkQQUdF20tPNbnU0ucHuI_yzfsZRbEM8On0wIHEbIo6i4bSe-04qX4HE4nAFimaUjFMeIPFCnNkK8BMD5rr1uYdn3hVywnzK888vDcapzT4EbJe1VAAsYM9rHw/s4032/fullsizeoutput_b266.heic" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0sQUVNhVjovT1nNlof_OT00KBErW1IGGd6SMLCwmAxVNfal_d-iz6Kmd4TTlDX9pCkQQUdF20tPNbnU0ucHuI_yzfsZRbEM8On0wIHEbIo6i4bSe-04qX4HE4nAFimaUjFMeIPFCnNkK8BMD5rr1uYdn3hVywnzK888vDcapzT4EbJe1VAAsYM9rHw/s320/fullsizeoutput_b266.heic" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Have you ever tried to untie a knot when you are in a hurry or stressed out?</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's super frustrating, isn't it? What ends up happening? You keep tugging and making it worse. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Silly example - I was trying to undo a tangled up necklace recently when I was running late for something. It was a ridiculous few minutes of struggle until I gave up and told myself that that wasn't the time to do it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">It's only when you force yourself to slow down and methodically work through a seemingly impossible problem that it starts to unravel the way it should. The old adage is, when you walk into a code blue in the hospital, check your pulse first, then check the patient's. You have to be able to turn inward and settle in to the right frame of mind to show up and do hard things. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I am reminded of this again and again when I don't give myself space to just be - whether it's meditation, journaling, yoga, or being fully present with loved ones. When you're feeling depleted, it's easy to get caught up in unhelpful thoughts peppered with guilt and worry around unfinished items on the to-do list, unrealized aspirations, self-criticism, and even hopelessness and overwhelm. It can be a vicious cycle of trying to busy oneself to avoid a shame spiral of inadequacy - but it's the same useless coping strategy that keeps us angrily tugging at knots that won't budge. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But when I allow myself to turn inward with loving kindness and trust that I have what I need and that I am truly enough, even when I feel stuck in knots, that is a powerful act of self-compassion and healing. I think that's why contemplative practices are so radically effective - they ground us in the important stuff while softening even the most formidable obstacles.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So next time you're faced with a knotted mess, put a little trust in yourself to meet it with equanimity. And if you feel like you can't at that moment, sometimes stepping away to get into a better headspace is the right move. Regardless, tough times are inevitable, but how you support yourself in facing those challenges is what really matters. </span></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-21621386961498394122023-02-20T13:24:00.004-08:002023-02-21T03:50:14.850-08:00Still flowering<p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: medium;">I recently received some anonymous feedback wishing for me to "create better boundaries" in my scope to focus more on my "areas of passion". I found this both shocking and saddening and have been reflecting a lot on this perspective. Is the era of the full-spectrum family medicine physician ending? </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">I find it disappointing that some folks feel we need to "specialize" in something within Family Medicine. </span><span style="background-color: white;">The truth is, having great breadth to my practice as a "comprehensivist" <i>is</i> my passion and I <i>am</i> specializing - in primary care for all ages. To have a day that can involve a well child check, OB visit, joint injection, counseling a patient struggling with depression, and a heartfelt discussion on end-of-life wishes, all while teaching a couple medical students the tools of my trade - that's pure joy for me. Sure, it's exhausting as heck and I need time to replenish myself when I get home, but I'm getting a lot better at filling my cup back up so I can keep pouring for others. </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm a fairly open book about the human issues I deal with - from working full-time while parenting two young children, to navigating a neurodivergent household, to struggling with self-compassion and taking rest, to healing from childhood trauma, to embracing a queer identity that many folks don't understand or acknowledge. </span><span style="background-color: white;">I own this authentic approach because I know I'm not the only person living an imperfect life and trying to find my way through. I trust that vulnerability builds connection. But it does also risk the fact that others will make judgments based on what they see. I accept it and have no regrets.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">Maybe this person also saw me juggling a shocking list of commitments in medical education and scholarly work as an academic physician - this year alone, I'm president of the San Diego Academy of Family Physicians and busily coordinating our annual conference, completing the Sanford Compassionate Communication Academy Fellowship, serving as Well-Being Educator for the American Academy of Family Physicians and Wellness Director for UCSD's Department of Family Medicine, </span><span style="background-color: white;">disseminating important findings from wellness work through scholarly channels, </span><span style="background-color: white;">mentoring students and residents in their own research endeavors, developing a new FM clerkship and compassion curriculum for the School of Medicine, envisioning care workflows to better meet the needs of gender-diverse patients, and not to mention all the teaching at the med school and with our residency program. </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: medium;">Believe me, my resident/student evaluations often come in late and sometimes chart notes stack up (especially if I have to stay home with a sick kid), and I always manage to submit work *right* under the deadline. But the important stuff - like being fully present with my patients in the exam room, helping my learners continue to grow in their clinical identities through teaching and actionable feedback, supporting my colleagues who are going through tough times, and spending quality time with my family -- the <i>human</i> stuff, I think I'm doing OK.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ajJZhdUrhSHacMnu3WuxKB4UipBSa6Udi27ZJ6DWb7zhkbmcTKEDfH8quyfQoThmqAiSj0G5QLh8TbhYjo83av_BP_HnTIMmgcacjJnVv3anplkq6xNUMPS1AfaTz5TqrfVAEhKthlLsV6kW5lennelCFoqX9AJz-9TjZppMf0WPtemKs35EN0gfiA/s4030/IMG_1229.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4030" data-original-width="2776" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ajJZhdUrhSHacMnu3WuxKB4UipBSa6Udi27ZJ6DWb7zhkbmcTKEDfH8quyfQoThmqAiSj0G5QLh8TbhYjo83av_BP_HnTIMmgcacjJnVv3anplkq6xNUMPS1AfaTz5TqrfVAEhKthlLsV6kW5lennelCFoqX9AJz-9TjZppMf0WPtemKs35EN0gfiA/s320/IMG_1229.JPG" width="220" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I have been transfixed by my son's pumpkin plant that's been growing in our home. It's easy to get distracted by some of the wilting leaves and not notice the ever-lengthening vine that is starting to flower. But that's life, isn't it? </span><span>Sometimes things have to wilt a little in the juggling game of life, but if we stay true to what matters, we can still find ourselves flowering. It's a delicate balance and I'm constantly fighting a momentum towards overwork and overcommitment, but I can say with certainty that this busy woman <i>is </i>focusing on her passions. And there's much more to come.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: medium; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-31948501773370506812023-02-13T08:28:00.001-08:002023-02-13T08:28:46.031-08:00Breathe, and notice <p>I recently attended a “roll and release” class at a yoga studio, using massage balls to release tension. I was so pumped to work out some of the kinks in my body, but little did I know that some life philosophy was coming my way. As I settled in on my mat and tried to maneuver awkwardly over one of the spheres, the instructor encouraged us to go slow, breathe, and notice. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Go slow. </i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Breathe. </i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Notice.</i></p><p>Those simple but wise words started turning over in my head and have become a mantra for me this past week. </p><p>Sometimes when we are going through hard things, we are so focused on feeling better and getting away from discomfort that we don’t take the time to understand what is truly going on. Maybe it’s because we fear what we might find… but the fear and avoidance often turns out to be much worse than meeting our pain with curiosity. There’s a famous saying, </p><p><i>Suffering = pain x resistance.</i></p><p>I really don’t want to avoid my pain- more and more as the years go on, I realize the wisdom and power that has emerged in times of pain when I just.. opened to it. More on that later.</p><p>So during the class, I really made a point to compassionately seek out my trigger points and meet them gently with a little pressure and patience. With time, there was release and I found myself feeling more open, nurtured and grateful. </p><p>By meeting our pain points with an open-hearted tenderness, we can achieve greater understanding through this focused introspection. And maybe, just maybe, we can also prevent the deep scars of avoidance that inevitably emerge when we turn away from it.</p><p><br /></p><p><i><br /></i></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-77851451294835446472023-02-04T18:51:00.006-08:002023-02-04T19:12:36.656-08:00The power of primary care, mentorship, and wellness<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"><i>It is truly an honor to assume the role of President of the San Diego Academy of Family Physicians this year. This is my acceptance speech from the Installation of Officers event.</i></span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">It is an exciting time to be stepping into the SDAFP presidency role, with new opportunities as we enter a period of new normals. As we find ourselves armed with more resources to continue forward in the fight against COVID, we also might find ourselves feeling more empowered to connect with others and restore a sense of community that was strained these last 3 years. I’m hoping that SDAFP will begin to host more social events again for those looking to reconnect or meet with other family docs in San Diego. I hope we can come together more often and build up old and new bonds with awesome FM colleagues across the county.</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Now, I take this privilege of representing all of you very seriously and am very open to hearing ideas from folks on where we want to use our momentum this year. From my point of view, I have three main areas I’m hoping to focus on: increasing awareness of the power of FM, strengthening the primary care pipeline through mentorship, and increasing focus on physician wellness.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">It is one of my passions to spread the magic of Family Medicine to current and future physicians and the general public- anyone who has seen my posts on social media knows that I unabashedly post on the regular about my #FamilyDocJoys. I think in general we are all too humble about the incredible feats we pull off in our lives as clinicians, educators, scholars, advocates, and so much more. It is such a joy to publicly brag about all my favorite people in our specialty who are moving mountains, and I encourage you all to join me in this collective uplifting of colleagues and the beauty of the work we do. Don’t be shy! What we do is awesome and we need to talk about it more!</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Another area ripe with potential is building a stronger pipeline into our specialty - and I’d argue that effective mentorship is crucial to help achieve that goal. I’ve been communicating with the rising FMIG leaders at UCSD SOM and it just further reinforced to me that if we can create some powerful links with students earlier in their education, we have the capacity to connect more amazing future docs into FM. Whether it’s speaking on a panel for National Primary Care Week, or simply getting a cup of coffee with a couple students, putting a face to the work we do can be so powerful. The risk of primary care erasure is palpable across the country and while we need to advocate for strong primary care education in med schools (something that we are actively working on at UCSD), we are all capable of making an impact on the individual level with every student we meet.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Lastly, I’d like to make a few comments about another passion of mine- physician wellness. I have served as Wellness Director for UCSD’s Department of Family Medicine for the last four years, and have seen the power of institutional investment in primary care and its impact on physician wellness. I was also fortunate to be a part of the AAFP’s Leading Physician Well-being program, which has provided additional insight that I hope to share with our members. I hope I can inspire colleagues to employ innovative strategies to support their wellness during an especially challenging time in health care. I have felt the potential for individual and systems approaches to revolutionize our care delivery, our working relationships, and our quality of life. This openness to seeing and practicing things differently is so crucial as we continue the movement to improve physician wellness in our specialty and in our lives.</span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Whether it’s leveraging social media to raise awareness, writing resolutions or lobbying on issues impacting our work, mentoring students and residents, or advocating for what we need to thrive as family doctors, we have a tremendous capacity to make an impact and shape the future of our specialty. I know I don’t need to overstate this because you all get it, as enlightened and empowered folks doing the good work both in the exam room and out. So I encourage you to continue using your primary care power - inspire others to explore leadership and advocacy and amplify the important work we do. And I am so excited to be on this journey with you.</span></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-60058984022030258392023-01-29T12:55:00.003-08:002023-01-29T12:55:38.527-08:00Boundaries, or lack thereof<p>Confession: I surf, scroll and check. It’s a compulsion and applies to my social media, work and personal email, and even the EMR because I have an Epic app on my phone. I get secure chat alerts on days off asking me to do things for my patients. I oblige more than I should. It doesn’t seem like much in the moment, but I can’t deny that the thousand micro-crossings of my personal boundaries and well-being must take a toll over time. People talk about not checking email on nights and weekends and while in theory I support it and secretly aspire for it, I simply haven’t been able to imagine an existence where that’s possible. </p><p>But I think it’s time. </p><p>I logged onto the EMR from my phone just to see if there were any new results that popped in (in retrospect, why?? Am I really going to act on them on a Sunday?), and remembered one of my medically complex patients was hospitalized. I figured I’d hop on her chart to see how she’s doing as I know it had been a bit of a tenuous course for her but I thought she was on the mend. As I was opening the chart, I got an alert that said,</p><p><i>You are about to open the chart of a deceased patient.</i></p><p>My heart dropped. I closed the EMR. My day was suddenly shrouded with grief over this longtime patient of mine, as well as sadness for her surviving family members who are also under my care. I regretted the thoughtless choice to open Epic on a day off when I was home with my family. And suddenly I realized how desperately I’m in need of some clear boundary settings to protect my heart and stay present rather than worry about my patients when I’m with family. </p><p>This is one of many #EmpathProblems that I expect I’ll write more about in the future. To feel so deeply about the folks I care for can be incredibly fulfilling and make the job even that much more of a calling, but it can also be incredibly draining. It’s important to compartmentalize deep emotions I have about my patients when necessary to go on living non-doctor parts of my life. But I also recognize the need to feel and process hard things my patients go through. To set some clear boundaries like avoiding compulsive EMR and email checking, silencing push notifications on my phone, and setting away messages when I’m “off” can be important steps in creating a bit more healthy separation. </p><p>I can’t undo the heaviness of the loss of my patient today, as much as I wish I had learned of this when I was in clinic and able to process it more effectively in my workplace. For now, I will accept that this grieving day I’m spending with my family was a hard lesson that I finally allowed myself to learn. I will never shed my doctor self fully no matter where I am, but I’m hopeful that small steps in setting boundaries can help me nurture the other parts of my identity that help me live the full life I dream of.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-55190717440447578912023-01-24T11:49:00.001-08:002023-01-24T11:53:07.331-08:00You're in charge of you<p>Some people turn to alcohol, recreational drugs, or overconsumption of food as a way to fire their dopamine reward pathways. My issue? I'm a recovering workaholic. </p><p>Well, let's be honest - I still work way too hard, but I can't deny how much my work gives me joy. To be there for people during some of the most vulnerable parts of their lives - from welcoming a baby into the world to holding space for someone thinking about leaving this world - it is an incredible privilege. It's truly rewarding to be this anchor for folks - but it's a double-edged sword, as we can take on so much and not see ourselves buckling under the pressure.</p><p>It's easy to make yourself last when everyone/everything else is consuming your attention. Caregivers, I see you! I am on a constant journey of figuring out boundary setting and recognizing my limitations as a human being. It wasn't until I started treating my self-care like work - with scheduled exercise, recuperation time, and healthy lifestyle goal-setting that I started feeling like I had some efficacy in my own life and wellness. Weirdly, I think I kept waiting around for someone/something to hold me accountable to get myself in gear. Who/what was I waiting for? </p><p>At the end of the day, you have to remember that you are in charge of you. No one else can make you decide to give yourself rest, nourish yourself, heal from trauma, or optimize your well-being in general. I think so often we de-emphasize it in this work-obsessed world we live in because there aren't deadlines around our lives. I mean, one day we do die, but we all assume it is far away, that we have all the time in the world. But that's never a guarantee. Sometimes horrible things have to happen to us to really reorient - whether it's losing a loved one, going through a major personal health issue, or having our lives upended in some major way. We can't fall prey to the assumption that there will somehow be time in the future. Because what if there isn't?</p><p>We don't have to let a morbid obsession with our mortality guide us, but I do feel that if we are able to wrap our minds around the inherent impermanence that is our lives, sometimes this can help us stay in better alignment with what truly matters. Mindfulness and meditation can keep us more grounded, humble and grateful, and I am striving to make that more a part of my life. By conscientiously plugging into our existence more and taking time to reflect on what matters, we can be true to our north star and also have just a little more impetus to take steps to ensure we are doing what we can to stick around in this life.</p><p>Here's to continually learning and growing on our own wellness journeys!</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-40081056167830358682022-12-29T22:32:00.004-08:002022-12-29T22:43:32.953-08:00Running through the pain<p>I’m not a runner. But I strive to be healthy (at times) and will jog every once in awhile, and it is generally awesome. Once I get past the puffing and into a rhythm, those endorphins kick in and I am soaring. One day, I was going at a good pace and suddenly felt a searing pain in my legs and was faced with a decision- do I run through the pain, or let up? I tried to push through for awhile but it really didn’t feel right and I finally slowed down for awhile that the pain settled down and I was able to finish my workout. Later, I was realizing that I probably had shin splints and taking the rest had been pretty crucial to not injure myself further. Yet, I had so much inertia that wanted me to ignore those pain signals and push through. Why?? I can’t help but think some of the values of the Culture of Medicine played a role.</p><p>The culture of medicine is strong and thick and hangs on you years after training has ended. Most of us come to the field because of our desire to help others, but the risk of losing ourselves in the process is substantial. </p><p>We love the challenge of this work- flexing our cognitive breadth to limits we never imagined, learning more and more while simultaneously realizing the vast knowledge that still remains unknown to us. In the quest for understanding and becoming the best clinicians we can be, we easily put our needs on the back burner in service of others. We want the best for our patients, so we give our very best, sometimes until we have nothing left. We often find ourselves wearing our sacrifices like a badge of honor- going months without a vacation, responding to messages late in the night, saying yes to something even when you have no remaining bandwidth… </p><p>We come to see the hard work as admirable, even if it slowly peels away at our morale and makes us lose pieces of our non-medical identity in the process. It renders us at high risk for burnout/moral injury, depression/anxiety, even suicide. Physicians are at least twice as likely as the general population to die by suicide. We lose about one physician a day to suicide here in the United States.</p><p><i>Isn’t it horrifying that those who are tasked to heal and keep us well are struggling so deeply? </i></p><p>It is a scary situation we are in, that has only been amplified by the pandemic, and it can seem like an insurmountable problem. How do we heal the healers? How do we help make people feel whole again, and set healthy boundaries, and thrive in this vital work? I grapple with these questions regularly in my work as wellness director for my department. And for a long time, I felt like the world rested on my shoulders with this wellness quandary (which seems so silly, but I see now that it was my own baggage I carried with my taking ownership of too much and not accepting what was feasible for a single human). The fact of the matter is wellness is a team sport - we have to do our part to see our pain and not just run through it, and we also need our system to support us in not pushing ourselves to injury in the first place. (More on this in my “<a href="https://issuu.com/mamsden/docs/sd_physician_1122_v6_1_/14" target="_blank">Putting the 'We' in Wellness</a>” article for the San Diego Physician magazine.)</p><p>It’s a tough balance- finding the sweet spot between stretching our boundaries to learn, grow, and engage deeply in healing work, while also not depleting ourselves to the point of no return. And this is why things like peer support, engaged leaders, and evidence-based systems strategies can be the guardrails for us so we don’t try to walk that fine line alone. As with any complex health issue that I manage for a patient, I always say, you have to come at it from all angles to really get a handle on it. In this way, the synergy of multifaceted approaches can become an excellent strategy in the quest for well-being.</p><p><br /></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-13366666518525562922022-12-28T21:45:00.005-08:002022-12-28T21:45:58.620-08:00Casting off<p>Why is it that finishing something can feel so overwhelming? There’s something about closing the chapter on something that can be not only intimidating but practically instill dread in the procrastinating individual.</p><p>Case in point- I had been working on a simple scarf for my daughter for the longest- knitting a few rows here and there over the last year or two, wondering if it was long enough, and Harper finally said, “Mama can you just finish already?!” I hemmed and hawed and made excuses about how I didn’t really remember how to cast off (nothing a simple YouTube search couldn’t fix, of course). She literally created a motivational sign for me that said, “You Can Cast Off!”, prominently displaying it so I couldn’t avoid the task any longer.</p><p>So I sat down and finally finished the darn scarf. She wore it proudly and my guilt of this unfinished business quickly melted away. So why do I put myself through such misery- whether it’s the manuscript that hasn’t been submitted to a journal, unfinished clinic charts, an email draft to an old friend, or even a new blog post? I consider it remnants of a recovering perfectionist. Getting things *just right * sure got me far in my career in medicine, but maladaptive perfectionism is its own burden that can limit one in sending their thoughts into the universe. </p><p>2022 is winding down and I’m looking at what intentions I hope to set for the new year. And I think I’ve got a good one- trusting myself to finish. We can’t let the fear of imperfection paralyze us from sharing things that are a little raw - because who knows if those rough thoughts might impact someone else in a positive way? So here’s to finishing up, speaking up, and releasing a little goodness into the world in the process.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-51023939269649994842022-11-06T19:04:00.000-08:002022-11-06T19:04:16.048-08:00Embracing imperfect<p> "Stupid Mama! I <b><i>hate</i></b> you!"</p><p>I can't deny that hearing those incisive words spill from the mouth of my 8-year-old daughter stung a bit. Sure, I'd certainly grown accustomed to some of this coming from my son who is younger and struggles with his own emotional dysregulation. But absorbing it from my daughter, who is so often calm, collected, and wise beyond her years, it was harder not to feel the impact.</p><p>Goodness knows I've been really working on self-compassion this year, which has helped me minimize my internalization of these challenges better than in years past. I do feel like I would have reacted more angrily in a previous chapter of my life when I had allowed myself to get particularly depleted and lacked the wherewithal to meet chaos with clam. But maybe I'm just a tad bit wiser and equipped with a more solid base of equanimity these days. </p><p>I kept peace in my heart and watched her retreat to her room, seething. Several minutes later, she appeared at the door, locked eyes with me, and burst into tears as she fell into my arms. "I'm sorry, Mama - you don't deserve to be treated that way..." She was horrified with herself, expressing how ashamed she felt in between sobs. I just held space for her, told her to breathe, and reminded her that she's human. We all get pushed to our limit sometimes and say or do things we don't mean. Truthfully, this used to happen all too often for me. But it was only through intentional reflection and action that I started to catch myself more and more, and did the hard work of repair - truly owning up to my mistakes. </p><p>The deep shame that my daughter felt with "acting out" really stopped me in my tracks, mostly because it reminded me so much of myself. We are so very alike, and I am all too familiar with the maladaptive perfectionism that I carried with me from youth into adulthood. To feel you can never mess up or disappoint others is a heavy, heavy burden to carry and it's something I have to consciously unload from my psyche on a regular basis. </p><p>Visual cues help keep me honest. I have a keychain beaded with the phrase "embrace imperfect". Practicing this philosophy on a regular basis and modeling it for my children has truly been a game-changer in our household, empowering everyone to pause and acknowledge when we aren't showing up the way we hope to. In this way, we can continue the human journey of learning from our mistakes and growing in deeper knowing and connection.</p><p>Wishing you, dear readers, a salve of self-compassion to face the messy parts of yourself with a little more ease, embracing a growth mindset that helps you sail through the rough waters. It sure makes it a more pleasant journey.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-30543449734201344832022-07-14T16:47:00.001-07:002022-07-14T16:47:22.435-07:00Oh belly<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Oh belly, what a complicated relationship we have had.</span></p><p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-size-adjust: auto;">You cramped and cried out when our first little life in utero <br /><span> </span>decided to prematurely take its exit.</span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-size-adjust: auto;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">You grieved in this sorrowful vacancy <br /><span> </span>and ached for what could have been. <br /></span><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">You glowed with pride in all your bigness <br /><span> </span>when you miraculously grew babies into existence.<br /></span><span style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px;">You hang here now, and I eyeball and squish you often, <br /><span> </span>wishing you away.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I don’t stop to rub you with affection and say, <br /><span> </span>“good job- it’s been a rollercoaster.”</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I want to love you the way I love my babies. <br /><span> </span>I don’t want to just tolerate you. </span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">I want to embrace you, <br /><span> </span>and honor you for your service.</span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody;">Be patient with me, <br /><span> </span>as I learn to reconnect with you <br /><span> </span>in more healing ways.</span></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-20859707581585193022022-06-08T23:53:00.000-07:002022-06-08T23:53:14.805-07:00Mindful<p>to pause and savor bittersweet moments</p><p>that can shimmy underneath the</p><p>busy buzz of the day —</p><p>to truly taste each element to nourish</p><p>you from the inside out —</p><p>to sit in silence and feel peace, not fear,</p><p>in turning inward —</p><p>to settle into a bubble of peace that</p><p>brings comfort and clarity —</p><p>this is freedom</p><p>this is release</p><p>this is inner knowing.</p><p><br /></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-44950440390967513972022-05-05T22:38:00.000-07:002022-05-05T22:38:08.935-07:00the flare<p>sometimes it's easier to keep pushing through<br />to roll up the windows and hit the gas<br />and maybe your tires are almost bald<br />needle teetering on the empty line<br />oil change way past due<br />and there's a funny sound under the hood<br />but if you hum just right it blends into the background music.<br /><br />and then the battery dies<br />and you're stuck with silence <br />and stillness<br />and it gets a little cold at night<br />and you rummage in the back for a blanket<br />and wait for a jump.</p><p>but no one's coming<br />you drove so far and left everyone behind<br />the flashes through the window were a dizzying display<br />and now, it's just darkness<br />and you wonder how things got so worn<br />and you're tired, oh so tired.</p><p>but you remember there's one flare in your trunk<br />and you wonder if it's worth it<br />and a tiny voice says yes<br />and with a deep breath, you add a flame<br />and suddenly, you're not alone in the cold anymore.</p><p>you drive the speed limit now<br />and you watch out for the check engine light<br />and look out for stranded vehicles along the way these days<br />cuz this baby's got some mileage <br />and it's going the distance.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-82006227208025591572022-03-19T20:58:00.001-07:002022-03-19T20:59:35.839-07:00Fail Forward<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Tears streamed down his cheeks with disappointment as folks laughingly declined his dandelions and found flowers he advertised as being "only five dollars!".</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">My son just wanted to have his own business, as he watched big sister successfully selling off her cookie inventory. I embraced him and tried to help him understand that the flowers unfortunately weren't nearly as appealing as the sweet treats. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Suddenly something clicked in his little 5-year-old brain. He dried his cheeks and ran off to get some supplies. Before I knew it, he was churning out drawings and chasing after passersby, enthusiastically promoting his artwork for exorbitant prices, slowly bringing down the price until he hooked the customer in. One impressed individual even dug out a $2 bill for him to keep.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I've always been amazed at Ember's unfailing confidence - his ability to start up a conversation with a perfect stranger, his willingness to take risks, his sticktoitiveness, and his ability to be nimble when faced with adversity. I mean, let's admit it - it's hard to fail. It can make you want to hide in a dark closet and never come out. But some folks just have an uncanny ability to take it on the chin, dust off and get right back to it. Is it foolishness? Stubbornness? Denial? Or profound wisdom?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I think many of us could stand to learn a thing or two from this ability to switch gears and spin a failure into an opportunity for growth and greater knowing. For those of us who can easily struggle from analysis paralysis or let perfect be the enemy of good, it is a good reminder that if we aren't faced with disappointments or failures very often, we're probably not challenging ourselves or stretching our comfort zone enough. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course it's a balance - you don't want to feel like you are constantly running ragged to meet some metric of success. It's important to have a foundation of self-compassion that allows you to return to a zone of safety when you feel too stretched. But it is fascinating to think about how much more innovation, and creativity might emerge in our society if people just gave themselves a little more room to fail forward. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">What can you do to push your boundaries and give yourself permission to discover and grow?</span></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-66509716017296023282022-02-05T21:43:00.002-08:002022-02-05T21:47:42.221-08:00To be enough<p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">When you look in the mirror, where do you first rest your eyes? Many of us go straight to the part we don’t like. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">And when you reflect on your day, the one negative encounter you have can completely wash out countless other lovely encounters that brought you joy and satisfaction. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">We obsess over our to-do lists and how we’re not living up to some set of expectations, but rarely take time to reflect on our ever-expanding “done” list. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Why are we apt to be so self-critical? Is it a survival strategy to identify threats to our ideal existence? Is it an evolutionary trait to drive us towards growth and progress? Whatever it is, it’s a major problem that absolutely threatens our mental health, especially if we have perfectionistic traits.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">So often we focus on the things about ourselves that we want to change, but how often do we really luxuriate in the aspects of ourselves that we want to hold onto? This was a charge in a writing workshop I recently attended, and I found myself strangely emotional. It was disconcerting that this practice felt unnatural and challenging. Why did this intentional act of self-love feel so unfamiliar and awkward?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">When I challenged myself to lean into it and really extract some good to muse on, it was incredibly healing. Tears welled up as I gifted myself that moment of self-celebration. What a powerful act to take the time to reflect on the pieces of oneself that fill you with pride. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">And to take it a step further, when we can really embrace our whole, raw, perfectly imperfect selves with all our flaws and the messy parts, that is true empowerment. The words "embrace imperfect" dangle from my rear view mirror and constantly remind me of this need to cultivate rich self-compassion and heal the aching wounds of inadequacy. Imagine if we all gave ourselves the same love and nurturing that we invest externally. Can you be your own best friend?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">I challenge you to look at yourself in the mirror and say, <i>I am enough</i>. It might feel strange, and you might not believe it at first, but you are a complete human being doing the best you can in this moment. And that is more than enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i>“A moment of self-compassion can change your entire day. A string of such moments can change the course of your life.” </i></span><span style="background-color: white;">― </span><span class="authorOrTitle" style="background-color: white;">Christopher K. Germer</span></span></p><p><br /></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-4626049039090074232022-01-19T16:05:00.000-08:002022-01-19T16:05:09.733-08:00Pouring from an empty cup<p>I was so juiced to donate platelets today. It's long overdue - between full-time work in the pandemic, wrapping up two professional development courses, my assorted "extracurricular" professional activities, and parenting/family commitments, I've been spent. But it's pretty hard to ignore the worst blood shortage crisis in over a decade, so I felt inclined to do my part. I worked really hard to get caught up on my work so I could make it to the appointment. I even got a solo hike in this morning and was feeling good about doing something for myself before I did something for others. This was going to be great!!</p><p>I show up to the donation center, ready to go - my hemoglobin level was excellent but my blood pressure was a little lower than usual. I noticed I was feeling a little dizzy, and I was starting to realize I hadn't hydrated enough. I hoped, though, that I could push through - just like we do in the clinical sphere - see patients now, hydrate later - no way to get enough water in with the consistent masking that is necessary these days. They get me in the chair, I queue up my movie and am ready to go-- I think. But I sorta know it's not going to go well. The nurses scrutinize my veins, squeeze my arms with blood pressure cuffs, tell me to "squeeze 3 times and hold it" - tap tap tap, squint. They are not pleased. They check the other arm. They put heating packs on me to try to get the veins to pop. No dice. They didn't even bother trying to poke me - they could tell it wouldn't be successful. I was sent on my way.</p><p>DAMN. IT. I get in my car and feel the tears well up. Then, the inner voice - "Why are you being such a weirdo? You can always try another time." I guess what I was feeling was frustration and sadness that I couldn't be of help in a crisis. And some of the frustration was self-directed, because I definitely should have known better and ensured I had been drinking enough water and had adequate nutrition to participate. But we health care workers are often really bad at the whole self-care thing - it's a running sad joke in medicine. It's even more embarrassing because I am the Wellness Director for my department and try to strive to walk the walk for my colleagues. </p><p>But it's time to set the guilt to the side and see this as the lesson I apparently needed to relearn, again. <i style="font-weight: bold;">You can't pour from an empty cup.</i> It seems so obvious, yet we sure do try sometimes. And while doing all the right things for our own wellness can feel overwhelming at times, it doesn't have to be perfection. Sometimes it's just going to bed when you feel tired instead of trying to power through a few more items on the to-do list. Or keeping a bottle of water nearby to sneak swigs in when you can. Or doing a 3 minute meditation in the car before you transition from work to home. These tiny moments can be cumulative and are a powerful testament to prioritizing yourself just a little bit so you can keep doing the important work that makes your heart sing.</p><p><i>"Self-care is giving the world the best of you, instead of what's left of you." - Katie Reed</i></p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-18849475108321823372022-01-14T16:35:00.001-08:002022-01-14T16:35:22.402-08:00 Family Medicine - where health is primary<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve got you
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">When you’re sick or well
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Through your joys and sorrows
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve got you
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Your children, partner, parents
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">From birth to death, I’m there.</span></span></p><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I treat the whole person </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">You’re not “the diabetic”, but rather </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">the resilient person who lost 30 lbs </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">and picked up a love for cycling </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">after we found those elevated blood sugars</span></span></div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’ll be there with you, tissues and all,</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Through the bad news</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And we’ll figure it out together.</span></span></div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We’ll celebrate the joys, too</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Life’s accomplishments, love and family</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’ll catch your babies</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Then fall in love with them along with you</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">High-fiving at those well child checks </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Marveling at their growth</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">[it happens so fast doesn’t it]</span></span></div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We’ll share stories while </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I remove that suspicious mole </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Or insert an intrauterine device </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Or deliver a steroid shot into that tired joint</span></span></div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’m your partner in care </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">With you on your path to wellness </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">My head, heart and hands are my tools </span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’m here for you.</span></span></div><div dir="auto"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I’m your family doc.</span></span></div></div>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514362167234338000.post-27524550596136043352022-01-09T07:26:00.005-08:002022-01-09T07:26:32.797-08:00Social rounding <p> social rounding</p><p><br /></p><p>i had some time so i peeked in</p><p>on my patient on the wards.</p><p>he'd been having a rough go of it - </p><p>in and out of the hospital,</p><p>his conditions getting the best of him.</p><p>in clinic, we usually focus in on </p><p>these health issues that have</p><p>decided to make life difficult.</p><p>but today was different. </p><p>we sat together for some time,</p><p>talking about our families,</p><p>the holidays, what's next in life.</p><p>we talked about what makes life hard </p><p>and what makes life worth living.</p><p>i saw a bit of hope glimmering </p><p>in those half closed eyes.</p><p>my heart swelled.</p><p>"thanks for the visit, doc,</p><p>you really helped me, mentally"</p><p>no, thank you, sir.</p><p>i needed this just as much as you.</p>Julie Celebihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15594663227607083229noreply@blogger.com0