Listening is a form of clinical reasoning.
It reveals what matters, challenges our assumptions, and changes which decisions make sense.
My path into medicine has been shaped by advocacy, public health, and a longstanding curiosity about how people experience systems — and how systems shape people in return. From early work in violence prevention and survivor advocacy to #ILookLikeASurgeon, I have been drawn toward spaces where culture can be examined, challenged, and reshaped.
I have often followed questions that sat at the edges of established conversations — palliative care within surgery, intimate partner violence in medical training, physician social media. What connects them is listening: to patients and families, to colleagues, and to what our culture leaves unsaid. This site is where I gather those threads — writing, research, resources, and conversation for anyone who believes surgical care can be both precise and deeply human. If some of the ideas here seem unconventional, that is all right. Some of the most important conversations begin that way.
Surgeons occupy a unique position in medicine, caring for people at moments of profound vulnerability, when decisions carry weight not only technically, but emotionally and ethically as well. The operating room sits at the intersection of science, trust, uncertainty, suffering, and human connection — and the work of understanding that intersection, and trying to shape it, has defined much of what I do. Over time I have become increasingly drawn not only to the technical aspects of surgical care, but to how that care is experienced by patients, families, and the people who provide it — and to the systems, cultures, and structures that make a difference in that experience.
I have followed this work wherever it called me — from a dairy farm in Wisconsin to both coasts, and across the country by bike.

Growing up on a dairy farm and becoming the first in my family to attend college gave me early exposure to the realities of healthcare access, equity, and resource variability.
In 2025, my parents, John and Jill Logghe, were honored as Grand Marshals of Glenwood City’s Rustic Lore Days. I wrote a profile celebrating their lives and decades of involvement in the community.
Surviving sexual assault as an undergraduate led me to advocacy: peer education with survivors, a men’s group focused on primary prevention, and co-coordinating the National Conference on Men and Masculinity.
Living in Harlem and working with the World Trade Center Medical Monitoring Program taught me how much coordination, persistence, and care it takes to look after people the system could easily overlook.

Biking across the country in the inaugural Ride for World Health — more than 3,000 miles with medical and pre-medical students, raising nearly $130,000 for global health — and seeing the country one small town at a time.
I loved the SANARTE ceramic murals at UCSF, and their imagery found its way into two conferences I organized. Their scenes of healing, diversity, and collective action resonated with work I had begun long before medical school.
Juana Alicia with Traditions. SANARTE: Diversity’s Pathway/Sendero de la diversidad, four ceramic bas-relief murals, ceramic tile frieze, and cement sidewalk. An original work owned and commissioned by the University of California, San Francisco. Ambulatory Care Clinic, UCSF Medical Center, 400 Parnassus Avenue, San Francisco, CA, © 2005. Pictured here: TRADITIONS Mural, hand-made ceramic tile mural, Juana Alicia © 2005. Photo: Anobel Odisho. juanaalicia.com →
Medical school at UCSF, where I took part in the university’s interdisciplinary conference on domestic violence, pursued health equity advocacy, and first found my way to palliative care.
After medical school, working with emerging digital health technologies, from surgical decision-support tools to Doximity’s physician network, while participating in Stanford Medicine X and mobile health education initiatives — exploring how technology could connect patients, clinicians, and ideas in new ways.
Beginning my surgical training at UNC, where I encountered the demands, hierarchies, and culture of surgical residency firsthand — experiences that would eventually shape my advocacy for the people entering the profession.

Raising my young children while growing #ILookLikeASurgeon into a global surgical community and collaborating remotely with researchers at Thomas Jefferson University on surgical education, communication, and digital professional networks — discovering how much could be accomplished across institutional and geographic boundaries.

General surgeon (University at Buffalo, 2019–2026) with a fellowship in Hospice and Palliative Medicine — bringing communication, presence, and an understanding of institutional culture into the work of surgical care.

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The opportunity to experience so much of the geography of the United States has allowed me to listen to people in very different communities, to see how place shapes health and access to care, and to carry those lessons into how I practice surgery.
Interviews, talks, and press coverage of this work are gathered under Media. Journalists will find bios, photos, and background on the Press page.
I am deeply grateful to my family, who have helped bring this work to life.
My sister, who designed The Listening Surgeon wordmark and helped shape the site’s palette from my own photographs. She brings depth, color, and emotional clarity to everything she touches.
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My husband and children, who have lived alongside this work with patience, humor, and love. Each of you has supported this vision in ways both seen and unseen — and shaped what it has become.