Tamara Beckford

Last week. I received a message from a former patient. I was sitting at my desk between appointments, when the notification popped up. We had not spoken in a while. I opened it and read her words. “It’s too expensive for me right now.” And she could find support cheaper. The old me would have felt a rush of guilt. Tight chest. Racing thoughts. The urge to explain myself or immediately offer a discount. This time, something different happened. I thanked her for telling me. I wished her well in...

It is the Sunday after Black Friday. For the second year in a row. I did not work in the ER. No back to back shifts. No 3 a.m. traumas. No dragging myself home in the dark and wondering how I would keep this up. This year. I woke up. Laughed with my family. I had dinner and a dance party. Because for years, this was the dream. Not to leave medicine. To practice it on my terms. Concierge style. More time with fewer patients. Women who can text me when something feels off. Call me when...

It is the Sunday before Thanksgiving. You should be resting. But you are not. You still have work to wrap up. Emails to answer. Charts to finish. One more meeting “before the holiday.” The family is already texting flight details. “Can we come a day early?” “Do you mind if we bring a friend?” You are cleaning guest rooms. Planning meals. Figuring out who is sleeping where. Your out of office message might be on. But you are not off. Everyone is gearing up for a “break.” You are gearing up for...