Life’s Detours and Speedbumps (Before Milestones)

Like many of you, I have become an avid listener of The White Coat Investor podcast. The success of any of my physician colleagues is a success for me, and I rejoice in the tales of student debt being repaid early or the first house being bought or the first million being saved. I’ve learned a fair amount from your stories.

The topic that I haven’t heard enough about is the grim reality that many of us face at some point in our careers. It’s a topic that for years I could not face, even as I was living it. Even when I could admit it, I could not let in the rest of the world. No, it’s not a malpractice suit, and it's not about your practice getting bought by the hospital or private equity.

It’s what happens when you and your spouse grow apart and you find yourself profoundly unhappy, trying to get through the day and the week and the month and the year and the year after that . . . continually telling yourself that happiness is for fairy tales and your job is to provide so that the wheels of your family life can keep spinning.

That is where I was in 2010. I had been telling myself for years that happiness is a fallacy and that my job was to work and earn an income. I had kids, and I had to preserve the stability of their lives. In 2010, however, I figured out that it was not sustainable, that I deserved to be happy, and that I was too young to be stuck for the rest of my life. Here’s how I got there, and more importantly, here’s how I got to a much better place. I hope my story will help one of you, maybe it'll show you that there is light and happiness (and love) on the other side. Hopefully, you will see that no matter how deep a hole you end up in, you can climb your way out with patience, drive, a belief in yourself, and the ability to make the right decisions over and over and over again.

A Failing Marriage

In 2000, I married a classmate from my medical school class. We had gone through the last two years of medical school together, and we did the couple’s match; we navigated internship and residency together. This was before the 80-hour work week restrictions, which seems like ancient history now. We had one child and then a second and accepted what we thought would be our forever jobs. We were close but not too close to family, in a part of the country where we were socially and culturally accustomed. We bought a large house (probably a larger mortgage than we should have had at that time), and we were set up to grow our assets and start to enjoy the years of hard work.

However, there was one glaring issue that we had not addressed. She was a spender. I was not. But I was willing to go along, complicit in the belief that we had “earned the right to spend.” In spite of having two large incomes, we spent almost everything. Writing this now, I can’t believe how awful this sounds. We had multiple credit cards that were maxed out, and we continually played the 0% interest balance transfer game. That’s where we would keep spending and then transfer the balance to a 0% interest card so that we could clear up more credit. Then, we could spend more and further enable our financial recklessness.

The debt was manageable because the amount coming in was sufficient. But there was nothing going into savings. We had modest retirement savings and had started 529s for the kids. But there were no emergency cash reserves, no normal savings, no laddered savings—nothing. There was no safety net. We were on the consumption treadmill, hitting the faster and steeper buttons with abandon.

While all of this spending and living larger than we should was happening, I was not unhappy to go along. The future was too far away to think about, and if we kept paying minimum (or slightly more than minimum) balances on cards, loans, and mortgages, we could keep up our lifestyle. Thinking back now, the lack of savings didn’t frighten me as much as it should have. Credit was too easy and accessible. Having gotten accustomed to signing for large sums of money for student loans in medical school, all of the car, house, and consumer debt was theoretical—not urgent issues to tackle. The future meant higher salaries as we advanced in our careers.

But there was no plan for savings. What should have caused serious financial introspection was assessed on the surface and kicked down the road. Thinking of this now, I can only blame our lack of financial education and wanting to undo the material deprivation that years of belief in future gratification promotes.

In addition to this lifestyle, we had also started to grow apart. We were in couples counseling, but the agenda and the topics that we spoke about came from her; perhaps she was attempting to salvage things and perhaps my emotional immaturity didn’t allow me to express my needs or opinions clearly. I had a limited voice in the relationship. I did not even have the language to express what I felt or didn’t feel. I was emotionally dead, likely in that state from the years of steady decline in our relationship. The therapy did not help. I didn't want to speak to my friends. Instead, I convinced myself that, as adults, everyone has problems.

Not wanting to burden anyone else, I kept my mouth shut; “things are fine,” I would tell friends who asked. A close college friend who could interpret and see through my façade said, “You sound dead,” on the phone. I couldn’t believe she knew me that well. But she did, and she was right. And she didn’t even know the financial side of things!

More information here:

I Got Divorced to Save Money

Physician Divorce: How to Survive and Thrive

Leaving the Marriage and Paying the Price

Getting out of a failed marriage wasn’t my mistake. That was overdue. But flying toward the exit as fast as possible without getting an attorney because I believed it would suck up too much money was a mistake. I could see the door; my hand was on the knob, and I could feel a new life on the other side. Reason could not stop me. I signed whatever was put in front of me. Freedom and happiness, a new start, and a new life were just beyond the signature page.

Getting divorced in certain states is worse than in others. New York is one of the worst. Without retaining a lawyer, I agreed to pay for the kids’ private school, all their activities/lessons/camps, the college costs for both, and their monthly child support. Keep in mind that she was a specialist earning as much as I was. In addition, for our existing debt, I took over one credit card debt (about $30,000), an auto loan for the vehicle that I would keep ($15,000), and responsibility for the prior year’s tax bill that was underpaid ($20,000). It was a financial mess that I quickly began to realize was unsustainable.

Once I started realizing how financially bad things were, I understood three things:

• I had to limit my expenses.
• I had to increase my earnings.
• I had to hire an attorney to undo whatever damage could be undone.

I did all three, quickly.

To limit expenses and find things that I enjoyed, I stuck to all things outside. Hiking is free. Biking is free. Running is free. They make you feel better, give you an endorphin rush, and undo the damaging results of stress and unhappiness on the body. And you can do all of them with kids. I started cooking and preparing all my meals—no more overpriced lunches or snacks in the hospital.

For the large debts that were now mine, I started aggressive but manageable payback plans. I paid the tax bill to the IRS over the following year with little to no interest. I switched from using credit cards to debit cards so that there was no additional debt accumulation. And I asked for a short-term loan from my parents that I could pay off monthly over the next 2-3 years with no interest to address the existing credit card debt.

I had stopped the bleeding. But I still had to resuscitate the patient.

More information here:

Why a Mediator with Financial Expertise Is Crucial to the Divorce Process

Moving on with My Life

This is where entrepreneurship came into the picture. I began picking up weekend shifts and other overtime work opportunities. Not so many that I would burn out, but enough so that I could start making dents into the debt. Since every other weekend would be without the kids, I saw these as ideal windows to generate more income.

Even though I missed my kids, it felt good to start getting my financial house in order. My financial stability contributed to my growing happiness and confidence, which certainly plays into being a better father. Ultrasound as used for nerve blocks was still a new modality in anesthesia at this time. I began reaching out to hospitals that were within driving distance, asking them if their group needed instruction in ultrasound-guided regional anesthesia or with help setting up peripheral nerve block protocols for their orthopedic programs. More than a few responded, and I would drive out as a paid expert, setting my own rates and terms. It was work I enjoyed, teaching colleagues how to use this new technology. There is always a need for expert witness review and testimony in medicolegal cases, and I worked with the state office of professional medical conduct to review complaints against those in my specialty. This was work that was off hours, but it provided a valuable service to the citizens of the state while bettering my dire financial situation.

Finally, I spoke to an attorney who reviewed my predicament and believed he could help. Going in front of a judge in family court is not easy, but it was the right thing to do. There were court dates, postponements, more court dates, and an eventual settlement that was significantly more fair than the original.

As I write this, I am amazed to think all these things happened 15 years ago. The simple steps have all paid off. I now have multiple short- and long-term savings accounts. We have over $1 million in retirement savings, and we own our primary home with a mortgage interest rate of 2.375% (we’re not rushing to pay it off). We have no medical school debt or any other debt. We just finished a series of meetings with a financial adviser we trust that confirms our projections of retirement income.

As I close, I recognize this is not a traditional “milestones” post. But it is my story and a tale that starts with promise and has a bleak and dark middle but ends with a bright future. It is a situation that I have seen many of my colleagues navigate. It is unpleasant but doable.

Here are some closing thoughts for those who are now facing what I lived through:

• Know who you are before you get married. For most men, it may take until your mid-30s or later before you know who you are. If you don’t know who you are, you can’t know what you want and don’t want out of life. It’s OK to have your own dreams.
• Frequent financial check-ins may be part of the recipe for strong relationships. Part of the check-in should be a hard look in the mirror at expenses and debts and the strategies to strengthen your overall position as individuals and as a couple. Building wealth can be a powerful bond.
• This is America. No matter how bad things are, you can bootstrap and build yourself back up. It takes focus, entrepreneurship, and drive. This country celebrates and reveres everyone who got back up and said, “Bring it, because you can’t break me.” But it starts inside you.
• Stop wasting money. Spend money on the things that pay you back.
• Keep some powder dry. It’s always good to have money sitting around to invest when the market tanks. You never know when you can buy equities at bargain basement prices. That is what happened in 2000, 2008, and 2020. It will continue to happen in the future.
• Believe in the market. Believe in real estate. Believe in the long term.
• Believe in love, especially if you get a second chance at it.
• Most of all, believe in yourself.

Have you ever been knocked down, either by a failing relationship or bad money decisions? What did you do to right yourself? What other advice would you have for those who are in a similar situation?