🫠 What The Pitt Taught Me About Surviving Tough Days

Last Thursday hit me like a tsunami of tiny problems. Nothing earth-shattering—just a relentless parade of difficult conversations, unexpected roadblocks, and the kind of news that makes your shoulders creep up toward your ears.

You know the kind of day I'm talking about. Your morning coffee spills on your keyboard, your internet decides to impersonate a dial-up connection, and three separate people need something "urgently" within the same 30-minute window.

All systems failing... please consult the nearest enchanted pastry.

We've all been there, right?

Later that evening, on the couch: I found myself watching an episode of The Pitt (a new hospital drama starring a very different Noah Wylie).

Picture it: The emergency room, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The department head gets a call—there's been a massive accident, and dozens of casualties are headed their way in minutes.

What happened next was fascinating.

Instead of panic, the team reorganized. With practiced precision, they transformed the entire department. Different colored wristbands for varying trauma levels. Quick calls to neighboring hospitals for additional supplies. Staff members appeared from every corner of the hospital, each knowing exactly where to stand and what to do.

Chaos turned into choreography.

And that's when it hit me, harder than my day had—these medical professionals weren't just talented; they were prepared. They had emergency protocols that kicked in automatically when the situation demanded it.

So I asked myself: Where's my colored wristband system for life's tough days?

Most of us prepare extensively for professional emergencies. We have contingency plans for website crashes, client issues, and project delays. But what about our personal emergency protocols?

For me, I realized I had pieces of a system, but nothing cohesive. A breathing technique here. A favorite comfort playlist there. A particular friend I call when things get really rough.

But watching those fictional doctors work with such certainty made me wonder what would happen if I organized my coping strategies with the same intentionality.

So I created my own emergency protocol chart:

Welcome to the Emotional Triage Station: Please select your wristband and proceed to self-compassion.

GREEN LEVEL (Doing great!): Morning meditation, prioritize three tasks only, afternoon walk, extra water

YELLOW LEVEL (Stressing): Contact-free day, comfort playlist, journal purge

RED LEVEL (Explosion Pending): Email detox, emergency self-compassion meditation, call a designated "first responder" friend

Having this system doesn't magically erase hard days. But like those hospital teams, it means I don't have to figure out what to do while I'm already drowning. The protocol activates, and I follow the steps.

What about you, Grasshopper? What would your personal emergency protocol look like? Do you already have systems in place for when life comes at you with sirens blaring?

Hit reply and or stop by the Come Wright Inn and let me know. I'd love to hear about your "colored wristbands" for life's emergencies.

Remember, preparedness isn't just for professional goals—it's for protecting that beautiful heart and mind of yours, too.