I believe in the power of people, systems, and chocolate.
People matter most.
Always.
I
snagged my first healthcare gig (physician relations executive) right out of college.
And I loved it. I visited medical offices across D.C., Maryland, and Virginia educating physicians (and their staff) about imaging services.
Every service line added, and new technology introduced, required study. I had to understand the technology, the industry, as well as healthcare as an ecosystem. But the most important skill I began to hone was how to connect with people.
I’m talking relationships.
The real-deal kind of connections.
Rooted in trust, respect and Good Ol’ Communication.
I wasn’t visiting offices to sell widgets and I wasn’t trying to peddle off the “next big thing.” And I never pretended to have all the answers. I was there to add value to the lives of the physicians and staff I encountered. I was also there to ensure their patients received access to high quality services.
My desire to please – I’m a self-proclaimed, but recovering, perfectionistic-people-pleaser (say that ten times fast) – and my love of a good challenge, kept me going.
I am still going.
I don’t plan to ever stop.
I am an eternal learner and people are – and always will be – at the core of everything I do and create.
A few years after finding my passion for healthcare, I received an unexpected crash course in medicine: my five-month-old son was diagnosed with cancer. Embryonal rhabdomyosarcoma, to be exact. And he was stage four, high risk.
At that moment everything came to a halt while simultaneously shifting into warp speed. The oxymoronic significance of that memory – that feeling – wasn’t (still isn’t) lost on me. It was out-of-body and all-consuming.
Though I could go into detail about my son’s treatment and recovery (he is now a spirited, cancer free, tween!!!) or I could describe the tangible knowledge-building aspects of the cancer-caregiver experience, I want to instead focus on the after effect.
Cancer sucked. (I tried to think of a more eloquent way to describe it for the purpose of this page but ‘sucked’ really does sum it up; and cancer is about as far from eloquent as you can get.) Despite the darkness of it all, cancer did give us a gift.
The gift of perspective.
I was changed. And for the better. I am a better mom, daughter, friend, leader, acquaintance, and -even a better- stranger. I am a better ‘me.’ A better human. I no longer look at people and their behaviors as one-in-the-same. We are all products of our experiences, environment, and decisions. But nothing is binding. We still have choices and decisions to make. And thank goodness for that.
For several years, before jumping head-first into self-employment, I oversaw practice operations for a multi-specialty women’s health practice and ambulatory surgery center. The gift of perspective that was bestowed upon me was most-definitely still giving.
I wove aspects of psychology and social science into the employee programs I created, into workflows improvements, and in the everyday conversations that I had with patients, care teams, clinical directors – everyone and anyone in between.
Establishing trust, respect, and effective communication is the foundation of continuous improvement, transformative operations, and sustainable practice growth.
When people feel heard, motivated, and supported something magical happens. This is true for employees, patients, and our peers. Humans are built for connection and do better, live better, when they feel connected.
Out of my mantra to 'live what I learn,' my healthcare solutions business was born. And now, every single day, I am committed to improving the lives of those around me (as well as my own, in the process). So, whether you are new to practice ownership or a seasoned practice-owning vet, I will help you build a practice and life you love.
Thank you for taking the opportunity to get to know me better. I look forward to doing the same very soon. For now, please check out the rest of my site and feel free to drop me a line.
I can't wait to connect!