Learning to Hold Steady

This week felt a little like stepping back onto a moving train.

My work project is fully ramping up again, and what makes it especially interesting is that it’s also part of my translational project for my doctoral program. In many ways, the two worlds are beginning to overlap.

Without question, this is the most challenging project I’ve worked on in my career.

There are countless moving parts, multiple teams, different perspectives, competing priorities, and no shortage of complexity. Some days it feels like we’re trying to assemble a puzzle while still figuring out what the picture on the box is supposed to look like.

But we’re gaining traction.

We’re starting to see pieces come together. Understanding is growing. Conversations that once felt abstract are becoming more concrete. There’s still a tremendous amount of education happening as we help people understand not only what we’re building, but why it matters and how all the pieces fit together.

This project has stretched me in ways I never could have imagined.

And honestly, that’s probably a good thing.

At the same time, I’m working through all the logistics required to begin the next four years of graduate school.

Oddly enough, the hardest part so far hasn’t been coursework, research, or even preparing for a doctoral program.

It’s immunization records.

Since I’ve spent much of my career in healthcare, I’ve received just about every immunization imaginable. During my years working for healthcare systems, I took advantage of every vaccine made available to me. Hepatitis B. Tetanus. Flu. Pneumonia. You name it, I received it. I was even fitted for an hospital grade n-95 at one of my health systems.

I know I was fully immunized when I studied abroad in 2009, and I retained records from those years as well as my time working within healthcare systems.

Then life happened.

I joined Acelity, where maintaining extensive immunization records wasn’t required. We were healthcare-adjacent—a medical technology company, manufacturer, biotech, and DME provider—but not a hospital system. Later, we were acquired by 3M, and eventually COVID and annual flu vaccines became the primary requirements.

Somewhere along the way, the paper trail became fragmented.

Now, trying to obtain decades-old immunization records feels harder than getting a copy of my birth certificate.

The good news is that I only need a DTaP, a tetanus booster, and a TB blood test. Hopefully by the end of the week everything will be checked off, submitted, and ready for orientation.

Good grief.

But honestly, I can’t complain.

Being accepted into this program is a dream come true.

Throughout my career, I’ve approached opportunities with a simple mindset: if God wills.

When I look back, many of the biggest steps in my professional journey seemed to unfold in ways I never could have orchestrated myself. The same thing happened with my Master’s in Data Science.

I cannot begin to describe how valuable that degree has already been.

When our Solutions Architect left the organization this past winter, I suddenly found myself writing more code than I probably have at any other point in my career. Concepts that once felt theoretical became practical overnight.

Even more timely has been the work with AI, data observability, traceability, and system intelligence.

I know I’m nerding out a bit here.

But I love it.

I love understanding how things work. I love connecting ideas. I love uncovering patterns. I love asking questions.

Most importantly, I love asking why.

I’ve spent enough years trying to suppress that curiosity that I’ve finally learned to embrace it.

I am a lifelong learner.

That desire to understand has led me down some fascinating paths. It’s opened doors I never expected. It’s introduced me to opportunities I couldn’t have planned for. And perhaps most importantly, it’s brought incredible people into my life.

For all of that, I’m deeply grateful.

Yet even as exciting things begin to take shape, there are still heavy realities on the horizon.

Some things aren’t mine to share.

Some are tied to loss and tragedy.

Others are simply difficult truths that become harder to ignore once you’ve seen them clearly.

Life has a way of holding all of those things at once.

Joy and sorrow.

Celebration and grief.

Opportunity and uncertainty.

Hope and heartbreak.

The older I get, the less I believe life is about eliminating one side of that equation and the more I believe it’s about learning how to hold both at the same time.

That’s what I’m learning right now.

How to hold steady.

How to walk alongside people I love as they navigate trials and heartbreak.

How to celebrate victories without taking them for granted.

How to recognize that none of us are promised tomorrow.

How to pause long enough to appreciate the quiet moments in between.

Maybe that’s the best way I can describe it.

It’s the exhale.

The realization that not every moment needs to be rushed.

The understanding that some of life’s greatest gifts happen in ordinary conversations, quiet evenings, shared laughter, and simply being present with the people we love.

I don’t take the opportunities before me lightly.

Not the doctoral program.

Not the work.

Not the friendships.

Not the people who continue to walk alongside me.

And certainly not the time we’ve been given.

For now, I’m grateful.

Grateful for the challenges.

Grateful for the growth.

Grateful for the questions that still don’t have answers.

And grateful for the steady hand of God guiding me through all of it.

One step at a time.

~ Louda