What My Oura Ring Taught Me About the Work I Do

Last week, my son had surgery at Arkansas Children's, and what my ŌURA ring captured surprised me.

Like any parent, I was anxious, constantly refreshing my phone and watching the clock. Later that afternoon, once Griffin was home and resting off his anesthesia, I opened the Ōura app. There it was: the day's sharpest heart rate spike, in bold yellow. A single, sudden surge.

I checked the 10:31 a.m. timestamp and wondered… could that be THE moment? 

I opened my text messages and scrolled to the one from the hospital. 10:31 a.m.: "Please proceed to recovery."

I remember lunging to my feet when that text came through, walking fast through multiple swinging doors, past beds of other children, with parents also waiting for their moment. The Ōura ring didn't just show a spike. It captured what that moment truly meant to me as a parent. These feelings always seem so abstract. But that day, they were right there in black and white. Measured and tracked.

This image has stuck with me.

In my role, I spend my days thinking about strategy. How to build brand trust, grow service lines and tell the story of our mission. But this moment reminded me of what truly sits behind our work: heartbeats.

Thousands of them.

Beating quietly in waiting rooms.

Holding breath during updates.

Praying for good news.

Watching for signs.

Waiting for miracles.

For every line of copy, every campaign, every meticulously crafted marketing plan, there's a parent like me, gripping their phone and hoping for that one text.

The one that says: "Please proceed to recovery."

You don't have to be the parent in the waiting room to understand the weight of the moment.

The impact is bigger than you think.

I've got the data to prove it.