I came back from Goa with sand in my shoes, salt in my hair, and the kind of optimism that only five days of shack food and sunbathing can buy you. I was glowing/half burnt. I was rested. I had even unpacked.

Enter my life’s reality check

Within 12 hours of stepping off the beach, I was in a hospital room, trying to decode test reports, argue with the nursing staff, and pretend like I understood what “CT Angio” does. 

My sister, the person I just sent beach selfies to, was suddenly on a hospital bed, and I was trying to remember if I had eaten that day. (Spoiler: I hadn’t. But I had cried on the car ride.)

And while I juggled the hospital and half-functioning hospital Wi-Fi, my work calendar decided this was the perfect time to come alive. Meetings! Q3 plans and follow-ups! My inbox was basically one big “Hi Neha, just circling back”

I considered auto-replying with: Currently circling a diagnostic lab. Please hold.

To recap: one minute I was sipping cocktails and debating shack menus. The next, I was learning the difference between a CT scan and an MRI while trying to sound alert in a call about Q3 outcomes.

The whiplash? Immaculate!!

Life didn’t just slap me back to reality—it flung me, dramatic Bollywood-style, into the pit of adulting. With full emotional weight, hospital smells, and a 9 pm Teams call that I attended from the hospital room, muting only to bribe a nurse for allowing home cooked food sneaked in.

So no, I didn’t ease back into normal life. I crash-landed. And somewhere between the chaos, the caregiving, and the corporate catch-up, I realized: I might still be tired, but at least I’m back where the action is and where I can create the most impact.

Remind me next time to stay in Goa!

Till Later!