I have been practicing outpatient internal medicine for more than ten years, joining my current group immediately after finishing residency. Since that time, I’ve observed changes in the environment—corporate acquisitions, stricter regulations, staffing shortages, and ongoing discussions around compensation, documentation, and the balance between work and life.

Nonetheless—I still have faith in this profession.

Reimbursements have decreased. Morale has suffered. However, this is not solely an internal medicine issue—it’s a health care issue. Across all specialties, we are maneuvering through a system that frequently appears to be against us.

What we need is not more defeatism—we require determination. Physicians who take charge. Who advocate—for this profession and those we serve.

Patients still desire a primary care physician. Someone familiar. Someone they can trust. Someone who perceives the entire situation—not just a segment.

That is what initially attracted me. And it is what retains me here.

Internal medicine is about equilibrium. I have created a system that functions. I attend to my patients, evaluate labs, document—and safeguard my time at home by separating work from personal life.

The clinic is for professional responsibilities. Home is for personal life. It’s not always straightforward—but it’s deliberate.

Are there challenges? Certainly. Prior authorizations. Endless documentation. Yet these issues are not exclusive to internal medicine. They are systemic—and they shouldn’t deter anyone from this profession.

Compensation and value are frequently discussed—and justifiably so. But here’s the reality: If you are unaware of your value, no one else will be. A contract is merely an agreement. If it isn’t advantageous for you—renegotiate. Or walk away. Be prepared. Gather data. Safeguard your leverage.

What troubles me is the ongoing negativity surrounding internal medicine. Yes, it is challenging. We confront uncertainty, emotional struggles, and time constraints. But internal medicine is significant. Foundational. It’s where trust is cultivated.

No other specialty fosters relationships this profound or enduring. Patients approach us with everything—from ambiguous symptoms to significant diagnoses. We accompany them through the peaks and troughs. We become their navigators. Their advocates. Their constants.

You can never predict what will arrive at the door—or what might leave. That unpredictability sharpens the work. It is fulfilling. It is authentic.

Do I feel pressure? Certainly. But I also feel immense appreciation. The brief moments I share with patients can create a lasting influence. That is important.

The system has flaws. Corporate medicine is imperfect. But my team? They’re like family. My patients? They confide in me. And that trust? It is sacred.

If you wonder what makes internal medicine worth committing to—this is it: I go to work each day not knowing what it will bring. I manage walk-ins, chronic conditions, and medical crises. I navigate personalities, expectations, and changing priorities.

And yet—every single day—I have the opportunity to be more than just a physician. A companion. A guide. A leader in someone’s healthcare experience.

To be entrusted with that role—to be the person someone turns to when they are frightened or in distress—is a privilege I never take lightly.

Through joy. Sorrow. Disappointment. Hope. Through everyday worries and life-altering diagnoses. Through the tears. The blood. The silence.

This is medicine. This is genuine medicine.

Patients don’t merely seek diagnoses. They seek reassurance, perspective, and assistance. I have become a consistent presence in their tumultuous world—and I am honored by that.

What adds to its significance? I get to accompany them on this journey over the years. Many of the patients I first encountered are still with me now. I’ve watched them age. Evolve. Triumph. They’ve observed my growth as well.

When I finished residency, I wasn’t entirely ready for the outpatient arena. No one teaches you how to establish a practice—how to handle complexities, discuss finances, or balance medicine with life. I had to learn—sometimes the tough way.

I’ve experienced burnout, challenging interactions, and the struggle of managing work and family. But I’ve also received support—colleagues who had faith in me and allowed me to develop. Yes, some doubted me. But many more encouraged me.

Even in a large organization, my team and patients still feel like family.

I’m thankful. Thankful for the trust. Thankful for the connections. Thankful for the opportunity to engage in this work every single day. I wouldn’t change it.

So to the upcoming generation pondering whether internal medicine is worth it—whether it is fulfilling, whether it is sustainable—I assert: Yes. It is.

If you are prepared to see beyond the distractions—beyond the metrics and the stress—you will uncover something powerful.

There are individuals who cherish this work. People like me.

If you ever require guidance—or simply someone to listen—reach out. We’re here. And we would be delighted to assist.

Internal medicine isn’t