This comes out a day later than planned. I wanted to make time for it and didn’t quite manage. Which tells you I'm still working on the things I write about.
The first day of a holiday can be a disappointment.
You’ve spent weeks looking forward to it. Finished the handover, dealt with what couldn’t wait, probably stayed late to make being away a little easier for everyone else. Now you have time to yourself.
And you don’t feel terribly well.
For me, that might mean palpitations, a few extra beats I keep noticing, or a headache. I’ve finally got a quiet morning and I’m sitting there wondering why I felt more capable when I was busy.
Then comes the irritation. I’ve waited months for this. Couldn’t I at least enjoy it?
I don’t know how much of that is actually feeling worse, and how much is finally having enough quiet to notice how I feel. And I wouldn’t assume that palpitations or a headache are simply stress because they happen on a day off.
Being a cardiologist doesn’t mean I should explain away my own symptoms.
But it does make me look at how I’ve been living before the holiday.
Have I been sleeping properly? Eating lunch sitting down, away from my screen? Has there been any part of the week when I wasn’t working, catching up, or thinking about what I still needed to do?
Often, the answers aren’t especially flattering.
I can be quite persuasive with myself. It’s a busy patch. Someone is away. There’s a deadline. Once this week is over, I’ll have a bit more space.
Each reason makes sense on its own. Put them together and several months have gone by.
Some of this comes from caring about the work and the people who need us. Some of it, if I’m honest, comes from liking being useful. Saying yes feels good in the moment. Protecting an afternoon for myself feels more awkward, especially when I know someone else is busy too.
So I leave it. Again.
In cardiology, I often sit with people who wish they’d done things differently years ago. It’s easy to look back and see what might have helped. Much harder when you’re tired, work is busy, and getting through the week takes most of what you have.
That’s what makes prevention so personal. What choices can I make today that I’ll be glad I made in ten years’ time? Getting a little more sleep. Going for that walk. Getting my blood pressure checked. Small things that are easy to put off because I feel well enough today.
I have these conversations with patients, then go home and make some of the same compromises myself. I understand the value of regular attention. Yet I can still organise my own life as though one week away will make up for months without enough rest.
That’s a lot to ask of a holiday.
One of the principles in Cognitive Oxygen® is “margin is medicine”. For me, the useful part is very ordinary: I need some space in my week before I feel desperate for it.
Enough time to finish a conversation without already being late for the next one. A lunch break. A walk that doesn’t become another phone call. An evening when I can listen to my wife without half my attention being elsewhere.
I notice when that space has gone. I get impatient with small things. Someone asks a perfectly reasonable question and it feels like one more demand. I’m there, but I’m not giving them much of myself.
I don’t like admitting that. It is usually easier to say I’ve been busy.
The assumption I keep having to Red Team is simple: I'll rest when things calm down.
What, exactly, am I expecting to change? Which commitment is ending? Where is the space going to come from?
If I can’t answer, I probably need to change something in the diary.
What helps me is smaller than I once imagined. Taking the walk. Protecting some of Friday afternoon. Leaving a gap and resisting the urge to fill it just because I could.
I still cancel those things sometimes. I still catch myself treating my own plans as the easiest ones to move. I even have a “not-to-do” list to remind me what I’ve decided to say no to. Some weeks I’m better at writing it than sticking to it.
But I’d like to arrive at a holiday with enough energy to enjoy the people I’m with. I’d like a day off to feel like part of an ordinary life, rather than the first chance I’ve had to find out how tired I am.
This week, is there something you keep putting off because it’s “only for you”?
See if you can give it some time in the diary. And when the week gets busy, see if you can leave it there.
If someone you work with is about to take a week off, send them this.