Posts by Autumn Dawn Galbreath, MD, MBA

In a recent sermon, I learned about a fascinating organization called the Recycled Orchestra of Cateura. A children’s orchestra outside of Asuncion, Paraguay, the Recycled Orchestra plays on garbage.

Just today in a text exchange about job hunting, a CMDA friend reminded several of us that God can lead us in a variety of ways. Many times, God calls us, or pulls us, into the roles He has for us. We feel clearly instructed, and we feel certain we are following His leading as we step into a new chapter, be it a job or school or church or a new family decision. As American Christians, we are used to thinking about decision-making this way, I think. We feel that we must not know the right thing to do if we don’t feel pulled to one of the options. We pray for clarity, and we seek advice because we want that sense of calling, of being pulled in the direction God would have us to go.

This week, our kids’ Christian school published The Statement. They sent it out with The Letter. And they asked for The Signature. And once again, our family began the now-familiar dance of shame, grief, anger, prayer, isolation, indignation and so many other emotions that bubble in the toxic stew Christian organizations often throw onto families like us.

Is life starting to feel normal again for you? By normal, I guess I mean pre-2020. Is life starting to feel the way it did before COVID and political intensity stretched us further as a society than we might have thought possible just two and a half years ago?

Coming out of the darkest days of COVID, I entered 2022 feeling bludgeoned by the experience I had just endured, both in medical practice and in society around me. I felt emotionally broke, overwhelmed and lost, to use some of Ms. Morrissette’s words. I was drowning in negative emotions and feeling psychologically depleted. My natural response was to grit my teeth and force myself to keep going. To get through each shift by ignoring my feelings and retreating into my knowledge.

Today I am a pharmacist. Well, not really. I’m still a physician, but this week in the Dominican Republic on a Global Health Outreach (GHO) trip, I am serving as a pharmacist. The incredibly dedicated pharmacist who has served on this team for years is at home with COVID-19, and I am attempting to fill his shoes. And as I look around the pharmacy, I see a beautiful picture. While we don’t quite represent every tribe and tongue, we are a varied group, to be sure. There is a woman here from Georgia who is originally from Colombia, a woman here from Ohio who is originally from Indonesia and a multitude of Dominicans and Americans. When I look outside the pharmacy door at the rest of our 75+ team members, we represent at least 10 U.S. states and at least five countries of origin. We include physicians, dentists, nurses, students, optometrists, teachers, pastors and homeschooling moms. We span ages from 10 to 70. We have people triaging and organizing patients, taking vitals, pulling teeth, prescribing medications, performing ultrasounds, filling prescriptions, dancing, singing, making balloon animals and sharing the gospel. We speak English, Spanish, Indonesian and Tagolog. We are funded by people and churches who paid our way or bought medications, and we are even funded by airlines that waived baggage fees to allow the many bags of equipment to travel here. We are supported in prayer by hundreds of people across at least two countries. As a group, we exemplify the beauty of the body of Christ. 

I had lunch with some dear friends today—Christian women physicians who have been my friends for almost 20 years. We talked about medicine—the woes of the current healthcare system. And we said we couldn’t imagine how things would continue, given the problems our healthcare system faces. We talked about parenting—the challenges of raising daughters. And we said we couldn’t imagine how kids could process social media and technology in a healthy way. We talked about our churches—the deep divisions between the maskers and non-maskers over the last couple of years. And we said we couldn’t imagine how the wounds could be healed. We talked about politics—the uncompromising partisan viewpoints on both sides of the aisle. And we said we couldn’t imagine how people could learn to work together given the depth of the divide.

My kids have attended a classical, Christian school for many years. While we love the school for several reasons, its academic rigor set it apart from the several other schools we considered when making the decision to move our kids there 16 years ago. Other schools offered personal attention, others had great mission statements, others had in-depth biblical teaching. But it was all of these things, combined with high academic expectations, that sold us in the end, since the primary purpose of school is to educate kids academically. In the grammar school grades at our school, the students are taught to always do an “Excellence Check,” that is, to look back over their test or assignment and double-check for any errors prior to turning it in. The concept of the Excellence Check resonated with me when my kids were that age because it served as a regular reminder to them that they should be giving their best to each assignment. It was never a “Perfection Check” or a “Compare to Your Neighbor’s Performance Check.” It was a reminder for each student to do his or her best at all times. One student’s best might be a perfect score, while another student’s best might be much lower, but the expectation to do one’s best was clear. We might think of excellence as being at the top of the class or someone who stands out in his field, but that isn’t the way our school defined it, nor the way I am defining it here.

Freedom. It’s an important word to us in the United States—arguably the most important word to the founding of our country.

How often do you rest? If you’re anything like me, your answer is, “Not often enough!” Most of us are overwhelmed with things that can be outside of our direct control—a busy practice, a crashing patient, an EMR that requires 1,000 clicks per chart, a healthcare system that increases the RVU requirement every year or two, a prodigal child, a distant spouse. Of course, we have input into the things which we allow to fill our time. But very often, we don’t have control over them. Other people’s requirements and expectations place demands on us that are difficult to simply discard or ignore. And, as healthcare professionals, we are doing good. Our work benefits people. We minister to others in their times of greatest need. Good busyness is the hardest kind to fight because it’s easy to justify.

Drunk, rowdy, and foul smelling, he came into a busy clinic last night. He was roomed immediately to get the disruption out of the waiting room, but his volume penetrated the walls and disrupted multiple other clinic rooms. He had no ID, wouldn’t tell us his name and had no chief complaint.