Just A Wisconsin Summer Day…

The Best Medicine Doesn't Always Come in a Bottle

Yesterday wasn't extraordinary.

It was exactly the kind of day I spent years praying I could have again.

And that made it extraordinary.

When I was in the depths of mold illness, neuroinflammation, and chronic illness, I measured my days very differently.

Could I get through clinic?

Could I think clearly enough to finish charting?

Would my headache let up?

Would I have enough energy to make dinner?

Would tomorrow be better?

Those were the victories I chased.

Yesterday?

Yesterday was just...life.

And that's exactly the point.

My day started the way most of my days do now—with intention.

Meditation.

Ninety minutes in the hyperbaric oxygen chamber.

Five minutes in a 39-degree cold plunge.

Not because I'm trying to be the world's biggest biohacker.

Because these are the things that have helped me rebuild the nervous system and body that chronic inflammation tried to steal.

Then came something equally important.

A pedicure.

I laughed because it had been over two months. Apparently my toes had entered survival mode too.

After some protein, Gio and I headed north to Door County.

We've lived next door to one of the most beautiful places in Wisconsin...

...and somehow had never gone cherry picking.

So yesterday was the day.

We learned another important lesson.

If you want sweet cherries...

Don't wait until mid-July.

The locals informed us that the magic happens during the last couple days of June and the first few days of July.

Mental note for next year.

From there we made our way to the Kewaunee County Fair after being invited by one of my favorite Lyme warriors.

And honestly...

If you've ever wanted a reminder of how incredibly hard farmers work...

Go to your county fair.

These families spend months caring for these animals.

Early mornings.

Late nights.

Rain.

Heat.

Sweat.

Love.

The pride they have in raising these incredible animals is something special to witness.

Gio had never experienced a county fair before, so I got to play tour guide.

Years ago, when I practiced family medicine in Kewaunee County, I was lucky enough to experience the fair every summer—even riding through the parade in the back of a convertible like a princess one year.

Some memories never leave you.

We wandered through the midway.

Looked at every fried food imaginable.

Bought two fresh-squeezed lemonades thinking they'd be refreshing...

...took about two sips...

...looked at each other...

...and decided we'd postpone developing diabetes for another day.

Sometimes wellness is simply making a better decision.

Then came my favorite part.

The baby animals.

If you've never cuddled a calf...

You're missing out.

We also ran into so many familiar faces.

Former patients.

Current warriors.

Staff I worked with years ago.

Families I've watched grow.

One of the greatest gifts of being a physician in Wisconsin is realizing that medicine doesn't end when someone walks out of your office.

You become part of each other's stories.

Before heading home, I did indulge in one Wisconsin tradition that simply couldn't be skipped.

Fresh sweet corn.

Worth every bite.

On the drive back we chased down what may become our new favorite taco spot—a small family-owned restaurant in Howard serving recipes straight from Grandma in Mexico City.

Those are always the places worth finding.

By the time we got home...

Another cold plunge.

(It was HOT.)

A shower.

Twenty minutes under our Platinum LED red light.

And we ended the night watching The Mummy.

Perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

Here's what struck me...

Not one moment yesterday was glamorous.

There were no luxury resorts.

No five-star experiences.

No private chefs.

No expensive adventures.

Just...

A summer day.

And for someone who once wondered if I'd ever feel normal again...

That ordinary day felt priceless.

Recovery isn't just about getting rid of symptoms.

It's about getting your life back.

It's about saying "yes" when someone invites you to the county fair.

It's about having enough energy to wander orchards.

Enough resilience to spend hours outside in the Wisconsin heat.

Enough joy to laugh over lemonade that's way too sweet.

Enough health to come home tired...

...because you lived.

Not because your illness won.

To every warrior reading this who's still in the trenches...

Keep going.

One day you'll stop measuring your life by symptoms.

You'll start measuring it by memories.

And those ordinary summer Saturdays?

They'll become the milestones you never knew you were fighting for.

Yesterday reminded me exactly why I do what I do.

To help people get back to living.

Because sometimes the greatest sign of healing...

...is forgetting, even for just one beautiful day, that you were ever sick. ❤️