Patient Newsletter: October 2025
- Oct 6, 2025
- 2 min read
Change, Stress, and a New Lipstick.
Dear Patients and Friends,
A few weeks ago, Kelly Watson, one of my kindest employees sent me a text that really made me think. She complimented my "put-together" look that morning. And while I appreciated the compliment, it struck me how different my exterior was from what I was actually feeling inside.
The truth is, beneath the surface of that "put-together" exterior, I was feeling the weight of a lot. We were recovering from opening our third office after months of navigating a maze of bankers, coding officers, and contractors (though I have to give a shoutout to Rodney Rigg and the Honey Brook Custom Carpentry team – they were the least of my worries!). Add to that my daughter's final year of med school, wedding planning, and the general upkeep of an aging house (new dryer, HVAC system, and roof in the same month, anyone?) … it was a lot.
And then, the ultimate emotional curveball: dropping our youngest off at college and becoming an official empty nester.
Anyone else find that becoming an empty nester is a bit like waiting for a root canal? You know it's coming, you dread it, and then BAM – the day arrives, and you feel like you're wearing a lead vest on your chest.
So, what did I do? I did what any respectable, slightly anxious professional woman would do: I went shopping. New outfit, new haircut, new lipstick. Ta-da! Put-together on the outside, barely breathing on the inside!
But this crazy thing happened – the new clothes didn't just cover up my worry and sadness. Somehow, they unlocked something within me. Stepping back into the office with a renewed sense of confidence, I found myself having some of the best patient visits I'd had in a long time. I was craving connection, leaning into shared stories, and extracting joy from my "job" that I hadn't realized I was missing.
Here's what I've learned:
1) That "put-together" exterior isn't always a cover. Sometimes, it's an invitation to reconnect with your best self. The order may seem wonky, but if you look like you just dropped your baby off at college (sweatpants and unwashed hair), the ache wins. Put lipstick on that pain!
2) Life transitions can be overwhelming, but they can also be opportunities. The grumbling house and creaking knees don't signal the beginning of the end; they signal the beginning of… well… a beginning.
Here's to all of us who are trying to wear it well, even when it's hard to breathe. I see you.
C
PS: And for all the future mothers-of-the-bride out there, my practical tip: Keep your mouth shut (mostly), your smile wide, and your checkbook open (just kidding… sort of!).
PPS: Go Phils!
