I built Garrett Health Services because I saw a gap I knew how to close. What I didn't fully expect was how much I'd learn once I was actually the one on the other side of the screen, every visit, every message, every patient figuring out whether to trust a solo telehealth provider with something that mattered to them.
A few months in, here's what's actually stuck with me.
Patients already know more than they're given credit for
I expected to spend a lot of time convincing patients to trust their own symptoms. Instead, most of the people who find me have already done the work. They've tracked patterns, ruled things out, read more about their own condition than most providers ever will. What they've usually been missing isn't information. It's someone willing to take that information seriously and actually act on it.
The label matters more to some people than I expected
I've had patients cry with relief just from hearing a name for what they're experiencing. I've had others who genuinely didn't care what it was called, they just wanted a plan. Both reactions are valid, and neither one changes how I approach treatment. But I underestimated, going in, just how much a diagnosis can mean to someone who's spent years being told nothing is wrong.
I didn't expect to become a byproduct of my own marketing
Sharing pieces of my own POTS story publicly wasn't something I planned to do this much. But it's been the content that resonates most, by far, and I think that's because it's true rather than because it's clever. People don't want a polished brand. They want to know the person treating them has actually been where they are.
Solo practice is harder and more sustainable than I expected, at the same time
There's no one else to catch what I miss, no team to lean on when a week is heavy. That part is real, and I won't pretend otherwise. But there's also no committee slowing down a decision, no policy standing between a patient and the thing that would actually help them. I can adjust a plan the same day I notice it's not working. That trade-off has been worth it more often than not.
The waitlist problem is bigger than I thought
I built this knowing specialist access was a real problem in Tennessee. I didn't fully grasp how many patients had already been told to wait six to twelve months, sometimes longer, sometimes with no real plan for what to do in the meantime.
Being the person who can say "let's start now" instead of "get in line" has turned out to be one of the most genuinely useful things I offer.
What comes next
I'm still learning. Every patient teaches me something about how to do this better, whether that's how I explain a diagnosis, how I structure a follow-up, or just how to listen more carefully to what someone isn't quite saying yet. I don't have this fully figured out, and I don't think I ever will completely. But I'm glad to be doing it, and I'm glad you're here reading this, whether you're already a patient or just found this practice today.
If you're dealing with something you haven't gotten real answers for, I'd be glad to help you find them.