Seventy rejections.
Two application cycles, three gap years, seventy nos. The arc that people call resilience when they're being generous and grit when they're not paying attention. What the three years actually did.
Read the note →Field Notes
Notes from
the workshop.
Field notes from inside the repair — medicine, the specific breaks, and the quiet work of becoming a physician. No cadence promise. Notes land when they're ready.
The plane clapped.
Forty thousand feet above the Pacific on the way home from Hawaii, a passenger went down. Syncope, cyanosis, bradycardia. Eleven years of training compressed into the length of a flight attendant walking back to my seat. What the training was actually for.
Read the note →Courage is not the absence of fear.
A one-sentence belief I arrived at on my own after eleven years of moving toward things that scared me. It is not a quote — it is a working definition. Here's the version I use before walking into the hard room.
Read the note →Built during residency.
The knowledge kept leaving. I'd see a teaching case on a Thursday and by Tuesday of the following week the key learning point was gone. Here's what I built to keep it — and the one principle that made it survive call nights and 10-hour shifts.
Read the note →The physician second brain.
Eleven years of training. Thousands of cases, hundreds of lectures, eight emergency certifications. And for most of that time, a leaky bucket. Here is the full system I built to actually keep what I learn — the vault, the daily anchor, the clinical capture, and the philosophy underneath.
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