04/06/2026
The System Wasn’t Built For You
I want to say something that I think a lot of people feel but nobody in medicine says out loud.
The American healthcare system — and I say this as someone who has given the better part of his adult life to working inside it - was not built for you. It was built around you. Which sounds like the same thing until you’ve been on the inside of it long enough to see the difference.
It was built around billing codes and appointment slots and liability and pharmaceutical pipelines and the assumption that the highest and best use of a physician’s time is to identify a problem, name it from an approved list, and match it to an approved solution. And to do that in about twelve minutes. Maybe fifteen if you’re lucky and the waiting room isn’t too backed up.
I’m not blaming the doctors. I want to be really clear about that. The doctors I know — the ones I work alongside now, the ones I’ve referred to and learned from and argued with over the years — most of them got into this for the same reason I did. Because something in them, early, before the debt and the hours and the bureaucracy, said I want to help people. That instinct was real. It still is. But the system they were handed to work inside of is not designed for that instinct to thrive. It is designed for throughput.
And throughput is a beautiful thing when you are manufacturing something. It is a devastating thing when you are treating a human being.
Here is what throughput medicine produces. It produces a country where more money is spent on healthcare than anywhere else on earth, and yet people are sicker, more medicated, more chronically fatigued, more metabolically broken, more hormonally depleted than at any point in our history.
It produces a country where people have learned to describe their suffering in smaller and smaller terms because they’ve been disappointed enough times that they’ve stopped expecting to actually be heard.
I have sat across from people — strong, capable, intelligent people — who apologized to me for taking up time. Who prefaced their symptoms with “I know this probably isn’t a big deal.” Who spent years managing conditions that were entirely treatable because somewhere along the way, the system taught them that their discomfort wasn’t worth the trouble of a real answer.
Let me say this as plainly as I know how.
Your discomfort is worth a real answer.
Your fatigue is worth a real answer. Your weight that won’t move no matter what you do is worth a real answer. The way your body has been slowly, quietly changing in ways that scare you a little when you’re honest with yourself — all of it is worth a real answer. Not a pamphlet. Not a referral to someone else’s waiting list. Not a prescription written in the last two minutes of an appointment that was never really long enough. A real, considered, unhurried answer from someone who actually looked.
I am not telling you this to make you angry at the system. I’m telling you this because I think a lot of people have internalized the system’s limitations as personal failures. They think they haven’t tried hard enough, haven’t been disciplined enough, haven’t wanted it badly enough. They’ve been failed by an infrastructure and concluded that the failure was theirs.
It wasn’t yours.
Here is the thing about systems — even broken ones, even the big immovable ones that feel like permanent weather — they aren’t the whole story. They never are. Because inside every broken system are people who decided to do it differently. Who said this isn’t working and meant it and then built something that did. You find them everywhere if you look. The teacher who stays late not because the school asked her to but because a kid needed more time. The coach who calls to check in not because it’s in his contract but because that’s who he is. The doctor who left the production model not because it was easy but because he couldn’t live with what he was producing inside it.
Medicine has those people too. More than you might think.
And what I want you to know — what I most want you to carry with you from this — is that you are allowed to find them. You are allowed to decide that the first answer you got wasn’t good enough and go looking for a better one. You are allowed to be your own loudest advocate. You are allowed to walk into a room and say I don’t feel right and I am not leaving until someone listens.
The system wasn’t built for that kind of patient.
But the right providers were.
The right providers love that kind of patient. Because that’s a person who is ready. Ready to do the work, ready to hear the truth, ready to actually change.
We are a long way from fixing what’s broken at the macro level. I don’t have a policy answer. I don’t have a political solution. I’m a guy in Kearney, Nebraska who has built something small and intentional and personal instead.
But here’s what I know about small and intentional and personal.
It compounds.
One person gets well and tells someone they love. That person comes in. They get well. They tell someone they love. And slowly, in ways that don’t make the news and don’t show up in any national healthcare metric, something shifts. Not the system — not yet — but the people inside it. They start to remember that they don’t have to accept the first answer. That their body is worth the deeper look. That feeling genuinely good is not a luxury reserved for the young or the wealthy or the lucky.
That it is available. Right now. To them.
That’s the glimmer I’ve got. It’s not a revolution. It’s quieter than that.
But quiet things, tended carefully, have a way of becoming something.