
Have you ever found yourself asking some difficult questions about your career in medicine? Is all of this worth it? Am I really making a difference? Do I need a change? Over the past year, I found myself wrestling with those very thoughts. As an infectious disease specialist and the chief of staff at my community hospital in Fremont throughout COVID 19, my perseverance and endurance were tested in ways I never imagined. When the pandemic finally eased, I stepped down from the chief position and several committees. For the first time in a long time, I had space to recover — and to ask what I wanted my future in medicine to look like.
I’ll admit, my attitude during this transition wasn’t always ideal. I had grown weary of the constant negativity — from colleagues and from myself. I knew I needed something outside my daily practice and my hospital environment, but I wasn’t sure what I was searching for.
To begin that exploration, I decided to attend gatherings of several professional societies whose dues I had faithfully paid for years but rarely engaged with. I had participated in one of the NMA’s leadership classes a while back, but I had never attended the Annual NMA Meeting — mostly because I was always “too busy.” This time, I went. And it turned out to be exactly what I needed.
The sessions with state legislators opened my eyes to how strongly physicians’ voices matter — and how attentively our representatives are listening to the needs of our patients. I found myself genuinely surprised by this. The influence the NMA carries in advocating for patients and physicians was impressive, even inspiring. I left those sessions feeling a renewed sense of empowerment and hope, reminded that meaningful reform is possible and that collective advocacy truly matters.
The awards presentations were another powerful moment. Hearing the stories of dedicated physicians — their passion, their perseverance, their impact — reminded me why we do this work. Their emotion and pride were palpable. More than once I found myself getting teary eyed, transported back to the hopes and dreams that led me into medicine in the first place. For a few minutes, the frustrations and burdens of medical practice faded into the background.
The rest of the meeting was just as energizing. By the time I left Lincoln, I felt more inspired than I had in years. Coach Cook’s keynote didn’t hurt either. The very next day, I emailed Amy Reynoldson to thank her for the meeting and to let her know how much the content had impacted me. I asked how I could get more involved — even in a small way.
Amy and I quickly set up a meeting, and I returned to Lincoln for a morning away from patients, phone calls, and charts to talk about the future. Together, we identified a starting point: increasing awareness of the NMA within my own hospital and encouraging colleagues to join. That conversation became a catalyst. Suddenly, opportunities to engage with medicine in new ways seemed to appear everywhere — volunteer work, partnership discussions, community outreach, and ideas for expanding telemedicine.
Maybe you, too, are looking for something. Maybe you feel like you’re not making the difference you once hoped to make in medicine. Maybe the complaints and the cynicism are wearing on you. If so, here’s my advice: do something about it. Get involved. If not in the NMA, then in anything that renews your sense of purpose and rekindles your hope for making a difference in our patients’ lives.
I found what I didn’t even realize I was looking for — and you might too.

