I was in a lot of trouble.

Without an easy solution.

Joy was missing.

From my medical practice.

From me.

I was seeing it all wrong.

Viewing life from an expert mentality.

Like "this is how it has to be."

To be accepted.

To be liked.

I thought I knew.

I thought I was "right."

Strategy.

Referrals.

Winning.

In this world, a guitar didn't belong in a treatment room.

It belonged at home.

In a closet collecting dust.

I desperately needed practice.

Not just in lead guitar.

But in leading from my heart.

Needed practice in uncertainty.

Giving up that there is a right way.

In letting go of my preconceived notions.

Letting go of how to be "the best" cancer specialist.

The daily grind was slowly killing me.

Inflammation.

Resentment.

Yuck.

When I said, "Screw it," and finally brought the guitar in, everything seemed new.

I went from Dr. Steven Eisenberg to Dr. Stevie Wonderberg.

Not clouded by how a doctor "should be."

The only "should be" became I should be co-writing songs with patients.

Their love would become their lyrics.

I know nothing about how a doctor should be.

I only know what brings my patients joy.

What brings me joy as a physician.

As a human being.

I always appreciate how my patients educate me.

They teach me more about being human than I teach them.

I have the privilege of communicating with extraordinary people dealing with super challenging stuff every day.

The privilege of communicating with you, too.

Thanks for reading.

There's so much more I have to learn about being a loving doctor.

Enlighten me.