There’s a song that’s been playing in my mind lately—John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads. You know the one:
“Almost heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River…”
It’s funny how certain songs, even if you don’t know every word, can stir something deep inside. That feeling of longing, of returning, of belonging. And as I sit here on a quiet Wednesday night, back home in Orlando after more than a week away on call in West Virginia, that’s exactly how I feel: grateful to be home.
A Journey Backward and Forward
Coming home always makes me think. This past week—and really, the past several months—have given me the rare chance to reflect not just on where I am, but on where I’ve come from.
I found myself thinking a lot about my dad. Growing up in Chicago, I remember vividly when he made the decision to move our family to Florida. It wasn’t a family vote—he and my older brother went ahead first, while the rest of us stayed behind. My dad would fly back and forth for about 1-2 years, working tirelessly to build something better for us. I remember waiting for him at the airport, the pure joy of seeing him after weeks apart.
Now, decades later, I realize I’m living a version of that same story. For the past six or seven months, I’ve been working away from home, practicing in underserved areas like West Virginia. Not because I have to, but because circumstances—like a non-compete—and opportunities working in the field I love without giving up all my time—led me there.
The Unexpected Gift of Time
This chapter of my life has been unlike any other. I work half the time I used to. The pace is gentler, the cases less complex. And in the space that opened up, I’ve found room to grow in ways I never expected.
My wife and I recently took a leap, signing our first lease of three franchise in the functional medicine space 4EverYoung. We closed on another real estate project, adding to the patchwork of dreams we’re building. I’ve been busy with consulting work—so busy, in fact, that sometimes it feels like my consulting is more demanding than my clinical work. I am grateful that I continue to work with two of my favorite nurses.
Yet every day, without fail, I miss my family. My boys, my girls, my wife. Even when I’m away, I carry them with me. I think of my dad again—how hard he worked, the sacrifices he made. And I understand him now in a way I never fully did before.
Dogs, Cats, and Teenage Daughters
Coming home means everything. My boys greet me like golden retrievers—pure, unfiltered excitement. My teenage daughters? They’re more like cats. They’re glad I’m home, but they show it on their own terms. (And I get it—I’m just glad they’re still here under my roof.)
These little homecomings remind me what truly matters: family, connection, time. These are the things I cherish more than anything else, more than any title or paycheck.
Redefining Wealth
Last year, I made the hardest decision of my career: to step away from a stable, busy oncology practice. I left to find something greater, something more aligned with the life I want to live.
And what I’ve found is that wealth isn’t just about finances. It’s about:
- Time wealth: The freedom to be present with my family.
- Mental wealth: The peace of mind that comes with balance.
- Social wealth: The chance to connect with others… basketball, pickleball, poker, movie or a meal.
- Intellectual wealth: The ability to learn, to grow, to think expansively.
- Family wealth: The relationships that shape who we are.
Yes, money matters. But it’s only ever a tool—a means to live a richer, fuller life. Funny enough, it wasn’t until I came across The Five Types of Wealth by Sahil Bloom—an excellent audiobook, by the way—that I realized I’d already been living many of these principles without even knowing it. It’s interesting how life can take people from such different paths to the same realization: that true wealth is measured in time, relationships, growth, and purpose.
Looking Ahead: Independence and Gratitude
As we approach the Fourth of July, this moment feels especially meaningful. It’s the first time I can truly say I feel independent—mentally, emotionally, spiritually.
I don’t know exactly what’s next. There are opportunities on the horizon. I’m hopeful I’ll find the right place to settle into a more permanent role—one where I can return to the specialized, collaborative oncology work I miss, but on my own terms.
For now, I’m grateful:
- For the time to hike and explore new places.
- For the space to read, to listen to audiobooks, to write.
- For the chance to build new ventures and chase new dreams.
- For the blessing of coming home to sleepy children, a quiet house, and the people I love most.
That old song says it best:
“Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong…”
And tonight, I’m exactly where I belong. Happy 4th!
About the author
Dr. Sajeve Thomas is a distinguished medical professional and a compassionate guide in the field of oncology. With over a decade of dedicated experience as a board-certified medical oncologist/internal medicine specialist, Dr. Thomas has become a trusted expert in the treatment of melanoma, sarcoma, and gastrointestinal conditions. He brings a wealth of expertise to the complex and challenging world of oncology.
Disclosures:
Dr. Thomas serves as a speaker for Bristol Myers Squibb (BMS), Merck, Ipsen, Natera, Immunocore, Pfizer, and SpringWorks. He also receives industry grants in support of numerous clinical trials.