I was in a lot of trouble.
Without an easy solution.
Joy was missing.
From my medical practice.
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."
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.
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.