Walking the walk: one doctor’s journey through vulnerability, struggle, and renewal

As an interventional cardiologist, I have spent my career urging patients to prioritize their health, maintain a healthy weight, and get enough sleep. Yet, for the past number of years, I have quietly struggled to follow the very advice I give every day.

At 37, I found myself facing the same diagnoses I help my patients manage: high blood pressure, high cholesterol, obesity, and sleep apnea. My work week often stretched to 70-80 hours, and I found it difficult to exercise, meal plan, or get the restorative sleep I needed. The irony was not lost on me: I was the physician who could recite the latest guidelines on cardiovascular risk reduction, but I was also the patient who couldn’t find the time or energy to implement them.

The weight of expectations

There is a unique pressure that comes with being a physician. We are expected to be role models, paragons of health, and immune to the very conditions we treat. Admitting vulnerability—especially to colleagues or patients—can feel like failure. For a long time, I internalized that pressure, believing I should be able to “fix” myself with the same discipline I ask of my patients.

But doctors are not immune to the realities of life. In fact, long hours, emotional fatigue, and the demands of patient care can erode even the best intentions. I found myself skipping meals, grabbing whatever food was available, and sacrificing sleep. My weight quietly inched toward 250 pounds, and exercise became a distant memory. My morning routine involved reaching for a third or fourth cup of coffee before 10 am, thanks to untreated sleep apnea and a healthy dose of denial. My own health quietly deteriorated.

Starting small

It took time—and a fair amount of humility—to accept that I needed help. I began to see that my struggle was not a personal failing but a reflection of the challenges so many of my patients face.

The turning point came when I had a real scare—chest pain, abnormal labs, sky-high blood pressures. Around that same time, I found myself treating a series of patients with heart attacks that were much younger than me. I couldn’t help but remember one of my old attending physicians who suffered a heart attack at about my age. All of this made it clear that it was time to take my own health seriously and make some meaningful changes.

Enter my wife, who is also my best friend—she finally convinced me to take the same advice I’d given so many patients: start somewhere and get the help you need. I started small. I acknowledged my limitations and set realistic goals. I sought support from colleagues, family, and friends. That meant doing a home sleep study, trying (and failing) with a parade of CPAP masks until I finally found one that helped me sleep, getting my labs done, facing the results, and finally being willing to take my prescribed meds—and, importantly, not forgetting to take them.

I learned to forgive myself for setbacks and to celebrate incremental progress. I began to see my health not as a destination, but as a lifelong journey—one that would require patience, persistence, and self-compassion.

Embracing my health journey

There are few quick wins in health. Sustainable change is built on acceptance, resilience, and the willingness to start again after every setback. I have learned to accept failure as part of the process, not the end of it. Each day is an opportunity to make better choices, to move a little more, to eat a little better, to rest a little longer. Staying on top of two medications has had its ups and downs, and I understand the struggles of my patients who have a laundry list of morning and afternoon meds.

Today, I am on a better path. My blood pressure and cholesterol are improving thanks to my diet and medications. I am losing weight, sleeping better with my CPAP, and finding time—however imperfectly—for exercise and self-care. The journey is ongoing, and there are still hard days. But I am learning to extend the same compassion to myself that I offer my patients.

Vulnerability is not weakness

If you are struggling, know that you are not alone. Vulnerability is not weakness—it is the first step toward meaningful change. Accepting failure, learning from it, and continuing the journey is the true measure of resilience. Our health is not a checklist to complete, but a lifelong commitment to ourselves.

As physicians, we are not immune to the challenges of life. By sharing our struggles, we can foster empathy, understanding, and support for our patients, our colleagues, and ourselves. The journey is long, but every step forward matters.

From my experience, I humbly offer this advice, not just as a cardiologist, but as someone who has walked the challenging path of reclaiming my own health:

• Be kind to yourself: Accept that there will be days when you fall short. Don't let perfection be the enemy of progress.
• Small changes matter: You don't need to overhaul your entire life overnight. Focus on making one or two sustainable changes at a time.
• Seek support: Don't be afraid to reach out to healthcare professionals, friends, or family for guidance and encouragement.
• Prioritize sleep: Even if you have a demanding schedule, find pockets of time to improve your sleep hygiene. It's foundational for overall health.
• Movement is medicine: Find activities you enjoy and incorporate them into your routine, even if it's just for short periods.
• Nourish your body: Focus on whole, unprocessed foods as much as possible. Don't strive for perfection, but aim for balance.
• Embrace the journey: Understand that health is a lifelong pursuit with ups and downs. Celebrate your progress and learn from your setbacks.