“This is just alcohol that I’m going to rub on your leg. Cold, right?” My 4 year old patient giggled. “Next we’re going to get your Band-Aid ready,” I said as I prepared one featuring Max, the canine star of The Secret Life of Pets. “Now just a squeeze and a poke...” in one motion I stuck the needle in his thigh, pushed the plunger, and adhered the bandage. “All done!” I announced. He gasped. He hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten a flu shot because he was staring at Max. We high-fived and I walked him and his grandma to the door. “Do you only see kids?” she asked. “We see all ages,” I said, referring to our clinic. “You were amazing with him. I wouldn’t have guessed that you did anything else.” As she left, I realized that she hadn’t been asking about our practice; she had been asking about me. At that moment, I knew I had made the right choice. I have never felt more like myself than when I’m working with kids. My path into medicine wasn’t linear. Armed with an art degree, I worked in tech design after graduation. I was a UX designer, crafting documents that organized content and data to make corporate websites as user friendly as possible. My favorite projects were always healthcare related; it felt like my work mattered when I made websites easier for patients and clinicians to navigate. I worked with an incredible team to bring those sites to life, but I still felt out of place. I continued to hope that my job would provide a sense of purpose, but it never did. During this time, my friends heard me idolize my grandmother, who was one of three women in her medical school class. They listened to me rant about lackluster sex education and rave about anatomy in yoga. Finally, one of them asked why I hadn’t pursued a career in medicine. I didn't have an answer. I realized I was more invested in the users of the healthcare sites I designed than I was in the websites themselves. I knew I needed to explore this further as the dots started to connect. I took a leap of faith and quit my job to prepare for a career in medicine as a Physician Assistant full time. I spent four years taking night classes at a community college, volunteering at my local children’s hospital, traveling to Haiti and Guatemala on medical mission trips, and working as a medical assistant where I eventually found myself with a flu shot in one hand and a Max-the-dog Band-Aid in another As a Physician Assistant student and aspiring pediatric provider, my deep compassion for not only my patients but also their families has shaped the way I hope to practice medicine. It is an honor to care for children and families during their most trying times and I look forward to a long career giving back to the community as a medical provider.

“This is just alcohol that I’m going to rub on your leg. Cold, right?” My 4 year old patient giggled. “Next we’re going to get your Band-Aid ready,” I said as I prepared one featuring Max, the canine star of The Secret Life of Pets. “Now just a squeeze and a poke...” in one motion I stuck the needle in his thigh, pushed the plunger, and adhered the bandage. “All done!” I announced. He gasped. He hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten a flu shot because he was staring at Max. We high fived and I walked him and his grandma to the door. “Do you only see kids?” she asked. “We see all ages,” I said, referring to our clinic. “You were amazing with him. I wouldn’t have guessed that you did anything else.” As she left, I realized that she hadn’t been asking about our practice; she had been asking about me. At that moment, I knew I had made the right choice. I have never felt more like myself than when I’m working with kids. My path into medicine wasn’t linear. Armed with an art degree, I worked in tech design after graduation. I was a UX designer, crafting documents that organized content and data to make corporate websites as user friendly as possible. My favorite projects were always healthcare related; it felt like my work mattered when I made websites easier for patients and clinicians to navigate. I worked with an incredible team to bring those sites to life, but I still felt out of place. I continued to hope that my job would provide a sense of purpose, but it never did. During this time, my friends heard me idolize my grandmother, who was one of three women in her medical school class. They listened to me rant about lackluster sex education and rave about anatomy in yoga. Finally, one of them asked why I hadn’t pursued a career in medicine. I didn't have an answer. I realized I was more invested in the users of the healthcare sites I designed than I was in the websites themselves. I knew I needed to explore this further as the dots started to connect. I took a leap of faith and quit my job to prepare for a career in medicine as a Physician Assistant full time. I spent four years taking night classes at a community college, volunteering at my local children’s hospital, and working as a medical assistant where I eventually found myself with a flu shot in one hand and a Max-the-dog Band-Aid in another As a Physician Assistant student and aspiring pediatric provider, my deep compassion for not only my patients but also their families has shaped the way I hope to practice medicine. It is an honor to care for children and families during their most trying times and I look forward to a long career giving back to the community as a medical provider.

In my spare time, I like to pull up Google Flights and click around to see what it would cost to fly to Berlin or Hong Kong and Auckland. Most of these trips aren’t feasible, but the escapism is fun. One afternoon I was clicking through destinations in South America. As I hoped between Sanitago, Rio, and Lima, I randomly clicked on Bogota. The number that flashed on my screen seemed like an error, so I clicked again to double check. It wasn’t a mistake: roundtrip flights to Bogota, Colombia were just $250. I immediately pulled up my calendar, submitted a PTO request and booked the flight for later that month. This wasn’t the first time I had traveled alone, but it was the furthest trip I had made where I was 100% by myself the whole time. My long weekend in Colombia was not only an incredible trip but was also a wonderful learning experience about my own independence. As much as I enjoy traveling with friends, I learned that I’m perfectly capable of having adventures on my own. Traveling independently is a valuable life skill. Instead of missing out on opportunities, I’m able to pivot on a dime to pursue things that I enjoy. I don’t get weighed down waiting for other people and I find happiness internally instead of externally. There are plenty of things in life that would be wonderful to enjoy with other people by your side, but there’s no reason to not enjoy it simply because you’re by yourself. Being alone is not the same thing as being lonely. Knowing that you can count on your own independence is invaluable and allows you jump at every chance for a new adventure.

Looking back at 2020, I'm grateful that the world shut down in March. I was working full time at an urgent care practice, teaching yoga part time, and balancing biology and chemistry classes in preparation for Physician Assistant school. It wasn’t until the world came to a screeching halt that I realized just how quickly I was running myself into the ground. During those first weeks of quarantine, I found myself with time to read for fun for the first time in months. With everything closed, the world felt like a cocoon as I settled in to read in bed. I cracked open Know My Name by Chanel Miller and within just a few pages, I knew that it was going to be my favorite book of the year. Miller, formerly known as Emily Doe, was the victim in the Stanford rape case back in 2015. She remained anonymous throughout the trial and her victim impact made international headlines when it was published later that year. In her full-length memoir, Miller describes the lead up to the party, what little she remembers of the party itself, and the forever-altered life she had to navigate after the assault. Her book was inspiring for it’s raw candor; every woman will be able to identify with some element of her writing. As a victim of sexual assault, I think everyone should read this memoir. Despite the heavy topic, her beautiful writing gave me hope. I finished the book with a fresh vision for how I wanted the world to change when we emerged from quarantine. At a time when everyone was questioning which aspect of the “old” world order was worth returning to, her writing inspired me to continue speaking out against sexual assault and to support all women who bravely come forward.

The gift was supposed to be shared, but as the hours ticked by, I was the only one doing the work. For Christmas we had received a collection of Harry Potter Lego Sets: the Hogwarts castle, the Chamber of Secrets, the Gryffindor common room, and Hagrid’s hut. I opened each kit, organized the pieces, and began working my way through the pictographic instructions. That's how I earned the coveted role of “Assembly Required” Queen. There is nothing that I can’t put together. It’s an odd talent, but one that’s been useful over the years. I’ve never had a mental breakdown trying to set up an IKEA purchase. I never realized just how useful a skill it was though until recently. I was working for an urgent care company that, prior to the pandemic, had offered house call visits. We had a fleet of Mini Coopers decked out with bins of medical supplies. When COVID hit, we pivoted to a drive thru model for the spring and summer and but come fall, we were ready to resume house calls. The only road block was reconfiguring the cars to hold a test development station, a biohazard bin, and a refrigerator to keep specimens cool. Looking at the supplies, the task seemed insurmountable. Thankfully, my many years of following assembly instructions meant that I had a solid grasp on how to solve spatial problems. We tried a variety of configurations until we found one that fit. Over the course of the first week, we made slight adjustments: it was easier to move the biohazard bin behind the passenger seat for easy access and storing the testing bin in the foot well was a more secure spot than the front seat when driving. All of those hours of legos had finally come in handy.

The beetle was an impressive specimen. We found it on our way home from Blockbusters. My mom took a VHS out of its case so I could use the plastic to scoop him up. It was the summer before 6th grade, and I was working on the annual “bug project.” My classmates and I were busy catching, pinning, and labeling 30 different insects. This stag beetle became the star of my project, albeit only after a small hiccup. The easiest way to off insects for pinning is to freeze them. The thick plastic of the VHS case insulated my beetle a little too well and only stunned him. The next morning, my family was horrified to see him trying to walk on his pin. Luckily, an overnight stay in the box solved the problem. The bug project was my favorite assignment in school and I saved my best catches after it was over. I didn’t think much more about entomology until the pandemic hit and I found myself taking my dog on extra long walks every day to pass the time. One afternoon, I found a lifeless butterfly on the sidewalk. It was beautifully preserved and I immediately picked it up to take home. A few clicks later, museum-grade insect pins were in route to my house via Amazon and an old hobby was revived. Since then, my collection has steadily grown. Collecting insects requires you to be mindful of your surroundings and to explore nature more carefully than you would otherwise. Even my friends and family have gotten involved, collecting everything from a shiny green beetle outside their office to a massive deceased wasp on the side of a tennis court. Nature is incredible. I’m looking forward to warmer days so I can continue adding creepy-crawlers to my display.

The tune is nearly impossible to get out of your head once you know it. We learned the song back in elementary school and performed it for a school assembly. It came in handy in high school when my history teacher had us label a blank map on the first day of class. Come college, it became my nerdiest party trick. The fifty, nifty United States (from thirteen original colonies) jingle has stuck with me and I can still rattle off every state in alphabetical order. All these years later, it’s also landed a coveted spot on my bucket list: visit all 50 states before I turn 30, or 50x30 for short. Today, I’m at 42 states with just a handful left to go. As my 30th birthday approaches, it’s become clear that I won’t hit my arbitrary deadline. The pandemic forced me to cancel several road trips that I had planned and working as a frontline healthcare worker has kept my incredibly busy the last two years. While I won’t be able to check them all off before my next decade of life, I’ve had an amazing time working towards my goal. The United States is such a diverse country that making it a mission to explore all of the states has forced me off the beaten path and given my passport a break. Some of my favorite travel memories have been from my 50x30 trips. I’ve picked blueberries in a misty field in Maine, hiked 15 miles at sunrise in Montana, and eaten freshly harvested peaches in West Virginia. Exploring my own country has been an amazing experience and I look forward to crossing off my final 8 states in the very near future. Definitely before I turn 40.

As a white woman in medicine, it’s important to me to advocate for change in my field. Increased diversity creates a healthcare system that is better able to care for all patients. My own experiences only represent a fraction of what my future patient population have endured. Having a diverse team is important because it ensures that all patients’ needs are met and that they are able to recognize themselves in someone involved in their care. While managing the medical assistant department at Remedy Urgent Care, I held a weekly meeting for my team. I always included a discussion topic about systemic racism and how it plays out in medicine. At each meeting we spent time exploring the ways that race affects healthcare. We talked about black erasure in academia and how the lack of dermatology resource photos that show conditions on black and brown skin was one example of it. We considered how political debates such as gun control impact our patient population in different ways and how we can advocate for policy change. We also discussed how white patients needing a bone marrow transplant are statistically more likely to find a non-familial donor; minority mistrust in the healthcare system and donor drives that target historically white communities are partially responsible for the shortage. Using my platform as a manager to spark these conversations was my way of creating a team that thought critically about their role in unintentionally upholding and intentionally dismantling an unjust system. As a Physician Assistant student, I intend to continue educating myself on issues of racism and how they affect my patients. An anti-racist healthcare system benefits all patients and all providers. I am committed to continuing to do the work to create an environment where everyone receives equally compassionate, personalized, and just care.

My favorite holiday isn’t actually a real holiday. Everyone knows that Valentine’s Day is on February 14th but until recently, most people didn’t know that February 13th is just as special. While everyone else busies themselves making dinner plans and ordering flowers for Valentine's Day, I spend weeks preparing for Galentine’s Day, the little known holiday that happens the day before. The holiday was invented and popularized by Leslie Knope, the lovable and relentlessly optimistic star character on the NBC show Parks and Rec. The episode with the now famous name aired back in 2010 and featured Knope and her gal pals celebrating their friendship on the 13th with the same fervor that couples celebrate their relationships on the 14th. This idea of celebrating our friendships stuck with me and every year, I collect small goodies and silly trinkets to drop off and mail to my girl friends each February. Between jobs, family, school, and travel, it can be challenging to stay connected to friends in the adult world. Phone-tag can go on for weeks and calendars can take months to align for a long overdue coffee date or group dinner. Every year, I look forward to having a dedicated day to tell my friends how much I love them. Even though it’s become a yearly tradition, there’s still something special about sending a surprise package in the mail. I love selecting gifts to send and finding special items that suit each friend’s personality. At the end of the day, it’s not actually about the presents, but about making each friend feel remembered and thought of. Being able to show each important girl in my life that I'm thinking about her is my way of reminding my friends that they are loved.

“This is just alcohol that I’m going to rub on your leg to get it clean. It’s cold, right?” My 4 year old patient giggled and agreed. “Next we’re going to get your Band-Aid ready,” I said as I peeled half of the backing off of one featuring Max, the canine star of The Secret Life of Pets. “Now just a squeeze and a poke and...” in one swift motion I stuck the needle in his thigh, pushed the plunger, and adhered the bandage. “All done!” I announced. He gasped. He hadn’t even noticed that he had just received his flu shot because he was staring wide-eyed at Max. We high fived and I got up to walk him and his grandma to the door. “Do you only see kids?” she asked. “Oh we see all ages,” I said, referring to our urgent care clinic. “You were amazing with him. I wouldn’t have guessed that you did anything else.” As she left, I realized that she hadn’t been asking about our practice; she had been asking about me. At that moment, I knew I had made the right choice. I have never felt more like myself than when I’m taking care of kids. After four years working in advertising, I pivoted into a new career in medicine and I have never been happier. While working at the ad agency, I admired how passionate my coworkers were, but could never muster up those same feelings. Now that I’ve found my calling, I can confidently say that working in pediatrics makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. I understand why I was never excited about my advertising work; it wasn’t my calling and I wasn’t truly myself. My place is in the clinic, caring for children and their families.

After a week-long road, we arrived in Boston for one final night. I had known my companion, Sam, for 10 years. As we walked from our hotel to an indoor cycling studio, ready to move our legs after a long drive, she was getting on my last nerve. We had alternated driving throughout the trip and anytime she was the passenger, she was glued to her phone. As we got on our bikes, she continued scrolling. “Put your phone down! It’s rude,” I snapped. It wasn’t my best moment. An hour later, dripping in sweat, we apologized to each other. The incident highlighted the importance of listening in a relationship, and how crucial it is to speak not just in words, but also in actions. To me, listening means being present without distraction. Because Sam was constantly on her phone, I never felt like she was paying attention. My outburst at the spin studio, though true on the surface, didn’t address my underlying feelings: I felt ignored. Conversely, I had failed to listen to her actions. Was she engrossed in her phone because there were family issues going on? Was there a new flame in her life she wasn’t ready to share? Had I angered her in some way that made her want to disconnect? Listening is a two street paved in both words and actions. Since that trip, I make a conscious effort to keep my phone in my bag when I spend time with friends so they know that I’m fully present. My actions speak just as loud as my words. If a friend doesn’t seem to be engaged, I hear their actions and pause to ask what’s going on with them. Then, with my phone tucked away, I listen to what they have to say.

My alarm went off but I wasn’t ready to get up. Instead, I lay in bed scrolling on my phone, delaying the inevitable. I don’t remember how I clicked on the article, but I found myself reading about sexual assault and consent. The author detailed how easily women dismissed things as misunderstandings when in fact, they had been violated. I nearly dropped the phone. I had always known a past relationship was unhealthy, but that was the first time someone had so clearly described what had happened to me: it wasn’t an accident, it was intentional. We utterly fail young girls and boys by refusing to teach them openly and honestly about sex, anatomy, and consent. After realizing what had happened to me, I made it my mission to change how I talk about bodies. As a yoga instructor, I focus my classes on connecting anatomy to sensations. What does it FEEL like to listen to your body? What does it FEEL like when your body says yes and when your body says no? The deeper we tap into those sensations, the easier it is to pick up on the signs our bodies send us when our subconscious senses danger. As I move into a new career in medicine, I’m passionate about bringing this same body awareness to my medical practice. Helping children understand body parts, human anatomy, and appropriate names for everything gives them a better vocabulary to talk about their bodies and the experiences they go through. The sooner we start teaching children about how their bodies work and what their parts are called, the better equipped they will be to make informed decisions about sharing their body. I hope to provide the tools and be the teacher that my younger self wishes she’d had.

As a healthcare worker, giving is part of my job. Even though it's an ingrained part of the profession, I’ve seen firsthand how giving can become routine and impersonal. Not wanting to fall into this trap, I’ve intentionally spent time giving back to different communities. I volunteered for a week at a rural clinic in Guatemala and traveled to Haiti with a surgical mission team. My most impactful experience though was volunteering for a local free clinic that offered primary care services to uninsured patients. Working with this underserved population made me a better clinician because it forced me to consider the barriers to care that anyone can face. To think that I could hand an elderly man who only spoke Nepali a form for an abdominal ultrasound would be a mistake. If I sent him on his way, I would have to assume that he had access to the means to set up an appointment, could navigate the scheduling system in English, and had reliable transportation to arrive at the appointment on time. To ensure that he got the imaging done, I sat with him and looked at a map of our city. We identified the closest imaging center to his home and I called the scheduling line with him to set up the appointment at a time when his son could drive him there. It’s easy to think that everyone has equal access to the healthcare system but this isn’t true. A college student may have insurance but transportation could still be a burden. An elderly patient may speak English but they could still have trouble accessing digital scheduling platforms. Cultivating a culture of giving ensures that we consider all perspectives in our daily practices and allows us to better serve all of our patients.

Doctor’s offices can be scary. Unfamiliar people and uncomfortable procedures can leave patients feeling anxious. There’s so much mystery around medical appointments that it’s no wonder it’s the last place people want to be. As a future Physician Assistant, my goal is to make healthcare more approachable for kids. In order to make healthcare less mysterious, it’s important to get kids involved in their appointments. I worked as a medical assistant for two years for a clinic that offered house-calls. Being in the patient's home helped ease fears, but it was up to me to make patients feel comfortable. At one house, I sat on the living room floor with a scared 6 year old to explain the “science experiment” we were doing. We counted out red drops of the first reagent and smelled the second before mixing them together in a tiny plastic “test tube.” After collecting a throat swab, we stirred up “germ soup” and set a timer to wait for results. I’ve performed hundreds of strep tests, but my visit was the first time this child was able to participate. In a traditional office, strep tests are performed behind closed doors so all the child knows is the discomfort of having their throat swabbed. My patient was excited to watch the process and therefore much more willing to allow me to collect my sample. As a trusted member of the healthcare team, PAs have the ability to transform how patients relate to the medical system. As a provider, I plan to involve children in every aspect of their care. My hope is that this transparency will create a lasting impact on kids as they grow older and allow them to be advocates for their own bodies and health no matter what diagnosis is thrown their way.

I didn’t always want to be a Physician Assistant. Initially, I worked in advertising after college. As a UX designer, I made corporate websites easier to navigate. I hoped that the job would give me purpose, but that never happened. My favorite projects were always healthcare related; it felt like my work mattered when I made sites better for patients. I worked with an incredible team to bring those websites to life, but I still felt out of place. Throughout the years, my friends heard me idolize my grandmother who was one of three women in her medical school class. They listened to me rant about sex education in schools and rave about anatomy in yoga classes. Finally, one of them asked me why I hadn’t pursued medicine. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. I realized I was more invested in the users of the healthcare sites I designed than I was in the websites themselves. I needed to explore this further as the dots of my various interests connected. Leaving a stable job to return to the classroom was frightening but I wanted to focus my energy fully in this new direction. I submitted my resignation and forged ahead with a full schedule of biology classes in preparation for PA school. My desire to become a PA solidified after I began working at an urgent care clinic. While there, I witnessed the bedside manner of our providers and learned how to nail blood draws from our seasoned nurses. The skills I gained, both tactile and intangible, laid the groundwork for the patient-centered provider that I aspire to be. Any doubts I had about choosing this path have long since disappeared. This is where I belong: caring for patients, counseling families, and serving my community as a future Physician Assistant.

May 2nd, 2018 was my last day working in tech. After four years as a UX designer, I left to pursue a new career in medicine. I never expected my background working in user research and design to benefit me in healthcare, but when the COVID pandemic hit, my worlds collided. At the time, I worked for an urgent care startup that saw patients in clinic and virtually by way of telehealth appointments. Within days of the shutdown, we moved 100% of our visits online and began offering drive-thru testing only after patients had completed a virtual appointment. With all of our appointments happening online, my experience in tech became invaluable as I was able to identify flaws in our system that prevented patients from accessing our services. I pinpointed a poorly design step that led to incomplete bookings, highlighted the need for phone support for patients without a webcam, and worked with our clinical team to streamline the check-in process using a scanner and custom QR code. Telehealth was revolutionizing our practice and I was on the frontlines making it accessible to everyone. Even as our digital business boomed, our in-person testing option proved to be a critical addition to virtual care. I will never forget one woman we saw in the early weeks of the pandemic. She was feeling ill and booked a telehealth appointment for an evaluation. Our clinician recommended she get tested but when she arrived, her mental state was clearly altered. We sent her to the ER, despite her initial reservations about seeking care in person during COVID. The next day, we got the devastating news that she actually had meningitis and would not survive. Despite the circumstances, her husband called to thanked us. Their telehealth appointment had allowed them to initially seek care in a way that felt safe. Because we recognized that something was wrong, they knew they weren't going to the ER unnecessarily. Despite the grim prognosis, he was comforted knowing his wife would be pain free in the ICU when she passed instead of suffering at home. This new frontier of virtual care is a technology trend that I’m incredibly excited about. The possibilities are endless as clinicians find new ways to serve patients wherever they are. As I prepare to start Physician Assistant school, I know that my background in tech will serve me well as the healthcare system embraces new forms of technology. Virtual care and telehealth services will open a new path for patients to access specialized care whenever and wherever they need it. I'm honored to be a part of that.

Working at an urgent care clinic meant seeing people on their worst days. No one expected to find themselves in our waiting room when they woke up. What was an out-of-the-ordinary experience for them was just another day for us. To be of true service, it’s crucial to not become numb to other’s experiences. One Saturday morning, a mom with two teenagers walked in. Our patient was one of the girls, an exchange student from Germany, who was clutching her side. Her symptoms sounded like a kidney infection which was something we treated often. I had her leave a sample, got them settled in a room, and ran a routine test to confirm our suspicions. To our surprise, the test was negative. Unable to pinpoint a cause, we sent her to the hospital. At any other clinic, that's where things would end. But in the spirit of service, I followed up with them later that day. The mom told us that the girl was in emergency surgery. Her pain was not an infection, but a rare complication called ovarian torsion. Her ovary had twisted around on itself, cutting off its own blood supply. Being in pain is bad enough, but I couldn’t fathom this young girl being wheeled into an operating room alone in a foreign country. I immediately placed an order for warm cookies and milk to be delivered to her hospital room and signed the note from everyone at our practice. The next day we received a beautiful thank you letter and the good news that the surgery was a success. Serving others does not end when they are no longer in sight. To be truly in the service of others means to go the extra mile simply because it’s the right thing to do.

Cowboy suits his name to a T. A born and raised Texas pup, he's never met a stranger, is always up for adventures, and has endless energy for the wide open roads, trails, and parks of the world. He only ever slows down when he takes over the bed as the world's best cuddle bug. I can't imagine my life without his goofy face and floppy ears. We are so lucky to share our time on earth with the angels that are our dogs.

I always knew that I wanted to get a puppy. Having grown up with dogs, I couldn't wait until I could bring home my own best friend. A few years after graduating college, I was finally ready. I wanted an active breed that I could run, hike, and explore with. After months of planning, I brought home a 7lb ball of fluff named Cowboy and braced myself for his boundless golden retriever energy. He did not disappoint and, five years later, it's rare to catch him sitting completely still. I had intentionally gotten a dog who could keep up as an adventure partner. Despite the near-constant movement, I never expected how much having a dog would slow me down and force me to enjoy the small moments each day. The life of a dog is made up of endless small pleasures. Taking the time to feel those small moments along with him has made my life infinitely richer. Mornings are a little bit sweeter when a dog rests their head on your stomach while you're busy scrolling through your phone in bed. It’s a gentle reminder to put down the device, be present, and dole out a few head scratches. With a dog, there's never a day that's too cold to enjoy a walk. Car rides, even in the thick of the worst traffic, are made better with a smiling canine co-pilot in the back seat. Having a dog is a constant reminder that life should be lived to be enjoyed. Simple pleasures are everyday moments enjoyed thoughtfully with someone by your side. Sometimes, that someone is a dog who is really excited to lick the spoon after you add a dollop of peanut butter to your toast.

If anyone was prepared to get a puppy, it was me. Months of planning finally culminated in an hour drive to pick up my brand new golden retriever. I talked to Cowboy, a 7lb ball of fluff, the entire drive home. I introduced him to his new bed and new toys and we settled in for our new life together. Because I had spent so much time preparing to get a dog, I had funded a small savings account for surprise vet bills, new supplies, and any other costs that might come up. I was proud of myself for setting aside nearly $1500. Since I had read all the handbooks, I knew that young puppies were susceptible to vaccine-preventable disease while they waited to complete their shots. I religiously avoided the park and crowded sidewalks to keep Cowboy safe. Just a month after bringing him home, I was alarmed when my usually happy dog became lethargic and started vomiting bright yellow bile. We hurried to our local vet around the corner who immediately sent us across town to an emergency clinic where Cowboy was quickly admitted and put on an IV. I spent the weekend going back and forth from my apartment to the ER. The team quickly ruled out parvovirus, poisoning, and a foreign body ingestion but they also couldn’t pinpoint the exact problem. After a long two day waiting for news, my phone rang at 2am.The vets suspected that Cowboy’s intestines were telescoping together, a condition that could lead to organ failure and death. They needed written permission to perform emergency surgery. In a daze, I drove to the clinic, signed the forms, and returned home to wait for an update. Just an hour later, the phone rang again. It was good news. During surgery they didn’t find telescoping intestines. Instead, they discovered an overwhelming parasitic infection that had overrun Cowboy’s bowels. The team cleaned him out, started him on the proper medications, and stitched him back up. He would be ready to come home when they opened in a few hours. While Cowboy was sick, my only concern was getting him better. The vet bill ended up being double what I had set aside in my “Puppy Fund.” Despite wiping out my savings in less than 72 hours, I knew my finances inside and out and was certain that I could forge a path to cover the remaining balance. To me, financial freedom is freedom from inaction and is achieved through deliberate financial transparency. It’s not about having unlimited money, but rather about having an intimate knowledge of where all your money comes from and where your money goes. Because I had been taught to balance a budget, I knew exactly where I could cut back, what streams of spending or savings I could divert to this new cost, and how much time it would take me to pay the bill. I also knew my limitations; I was not going to be able to negotiate a raise, but I could calculate how much extra cash I could bring in if I took on an overtime project or picked up a few extra shifts at my part-time side hustle. I didn’t have control over every unexpected expense, but I did have full control over how I viewed and tracked my finances. To me, this is financial freedom because I can make decisions based on crystal clear data. Knowledge is power.