About Urvi Patel

For years, I worked as an ER physician — the kind who could push through anything. Fourteen-hour shifts without food, water, or rest became normal to me. I wore my endurance like a badge of honor, believing resilience meant self-abandonment. It wasn’t until my body finally spoke louder than my willpower that I realized how deeply disconnected I had become from myself.

My wake-up call came after a long stretch of ER shifts followed by a two-week vacation. I expected to feel restored. Instead, I felt more depleted than when I left. I remember thinking, How do I need a vacation from my vacation? The exhaustion didn’t feel normal — but it had been my normal for so long that I no longer knew what “well” felt like.

Then came my miscarriage — a heartbreak that shattered me open. A part of me blamed myself: the rotating schedules, the cortisol swings, the chronic fatigue I refused to acknowledge. I felt grief, shame, and anger that so many high-achieving women in medicine and other demanding careers suffer quietly… and no one talks about it. I wished someone had warned me earlier. I may still have chosen medicine, but I would have protected my internal world much sooner.

As I searched for answers, I realized how little conventional medicine teaches about preventing burnout, regulating stress, or supporting long-term vitality. We are trained to treat pathology — not to protect wellbeing.

My shift into functional medicine began slowly, intimately.

It started with my husband — the first person who lovingly reflected back the ways I was neglecting myself. I brushed it off at first. My ability to push through anything felt like strength. But his concern planted a seed I couldn’t ignore.

Around the same time, I watched a close mentor in my life undergo her own healing transformation. She was already outwardly “healthy,” but as she cleaned up her nutrition, listened to her body, and leaned into deeper emotional work, she became lighter, clearer, more vibrant. Watching her expand made something click inside me: to do inner healing, your body must have the capacity to hold it. The physical and emotional are inseparable.

The defining moment came when I realized I no longer wanted to live disconnected from myself. After a decade caring for people in crisis, I felt a deep pull to help people before their bodies forced them to stop. I wanted to help high-performing individuals recognize burnout early, restore their energy, and rebuild from a place of authenticity rather than survival.

The transition wasn’t easy.

The science felt familiar.

The vulnerability did not.

I had to confront perfectionism, let go of identities that no longer fit, and step into a field where my voice — not just my credentials — mattered. But the greatest validation came from my first “patients”: my own family. A group of high achievers and physicians — all skeptics by nature — who trusted me enough to try something new. Their improvements in energy, inflammation, clarity, and metabolic markers were undeniable. That was the moment I knew this work was real.

My understanding of healing expanded.

Burnout is not a character flaw.

It is a full-body experience — cortisol, inflammation, metabolism, nervous system, emotions, beliefs, identity.

Healing isn’t just about rest.

It’s about rebuilding the internal architecture that allows you to thrive.

It’s about coming back home to yourself.

Today, my work centers on helping high-functioning individuals — especially those who live fast, give deeply, and carry invisible weight — recover from burnout, restore vitality, and reconnect with who they are beneath the pressure and productivity.

Functional medicine is one piece of it.

Lifestyle and physiology are another.

But at the core, my work is about helping people feel alive again.

This work is my return — the integration of everything I’ve lived through.

And it’s the gift I now share with anyone ready to reclaim their energy, alignment, and internal freedom.