Jana Kosmopoulos, MBA, MHA

I truly believe my success comes down to listening—really listening—and caring deeply about the work I do. One of my mentors once told me that people don’t listen anymore; they’re often too quick to defend their actions instead of taking a step back and learning from feedback. That stuck with me.

I’ve made a conscious effort to listen to constructive criticism and use it as a tool for growth. When you focus on that kind of internal work—paying attention, being open, and adjusting your mindset—it naturally shows in your actions. And over time, others notice.

For many people, a job is just a way to pay the bills. But when you genuinely care about what you do, when it becomes second nature, it changes everything. Taking the time to truly listen—to patients, to colleagues—elevates the quality of your work in a way that speaks for itself.

Because I’ve been willing to listen, learn, and adapt, I’ve built a level of trust with my supervisors and surgeons. That trust has led to opportunities that aren’t typical in my department, including the flexibility to work from home.

At the end of the day, I believe that when you combine listening with genuine care, it not only helps you grow, but it also creates real, meaningful results.

The best career advice I’ve ever received was simple, but it completely changed how I approach my work: listen more. It came from a mentor of mine who later moved into cardiology, and it stuck with me because it was so true. She pointed out that people don’t really listen anymore—they’re often too quick to defend their decisions or justify their actions instead of taking a moment to reflect.

That advice pushed me to become more intentional about how I receive feedback. I’ve learned to lean into constructive criticism rather than shy away from it, and to treat it as an opportunity for growth instead of something personal. When you take the time to truly listen, process what you’re hearing, and then adjust your mindset, it naturally leads to better actions. Over time, that kind of internal work becomes visible to others—it shows in how you communicate, how you perform, and how you carry yourself professionally.

The second part of that advice was about genuinely caring about what you do. For many people, a job is just a means to an end. But when you approach your work with real care—when it becomes second nature to go the extra step, to truly listen to patients, and to be present in what you’re doing—it elevates everything. That level of commitment doesn’t go unnoticed. In my experience, it becomes clear to leadership and to the surgeons I work with, and it builds a level of trust that you can’t fake.

Together, those two lessons—listening and caring—have shaped not only how I work, but how I continue to grow in my career.

The biggest piece of advice I would give to young women entering this field is to develop a thick skin and not be afraid to go after what you want. Don’t take “no” as the final answer, and don’t limit yourself to the traditional path just because that’s how things have always been done.

When I was trying to get into Northwell Health full-time, I came across a job posting that was only open to current employees. Technically, I wasn’t eligible. But the position was exactly what I needed—it was part-time, with hours that allowed me to balance my responsibilities as a mom. Instead of dismissing it, I decided to take a chance. I printed my resume, walked into the office, and introduced myself. I was honest—I acknowledged that I wasn’t the typical candidate, but I emphasized my education, my work ethic, and my willingness to learn. I simply asked for an opportunity.

That one decision changed everything. I was called in for an interview with the surgeons, and I started the following month. That experience reinforced something I truly believe: sometimes you have to create your own opportunity instead of waiting for one to be handed to you.

I also encourage young women to step outside the status quo. Use platforms like LinkedIn, build your presence, connect with others, and advocate for yourself. Growth doesn’t happen by staying comfortable—it happens when you put yourself out there.

Most importantly, be open to feedback and never stop learning. Constructive criticism is not something to fear—it’s one of the most valuable tools you have to grow.

As women, we’re often taught to stay in line, to follow the rules, and not to make too much noise. But the truth is, if you don’t speak up and stand out, you risk being overlooked. I strongly believe in breaking that cycle—not just for myself, but for the next generation, including my daughters. I want them to know that it’s okay to take up space, to challenge expectations, and to go after what they deserve.

One of the biggest challenges in my field is the deeply emotional nature of the work. There’s really no way to fully prepare for it. Even after more than five years, I still find myself tearing up with patients on the phone. Every story is different, every loss is personal, and nothing ever feels routine. There’s no such thing as becoming immune to it—and honestly, I don’t think you should.

I’ve spoken with patients going through unimaginable situations—like one woman who lost her twins just two weeks before her wedding. Moments like that stay with you. While some physicians, over time, may develop a thicker emotional barrier as a way to cope, I’ve always believed that allowing myself to feel alongside my patients is part of what makes me effective in my role. It’s what helps build trust and connection during some of the hardest moments of their lives.

That said, this work is not easy. It’s emotionally intense, mentally draining, and at times physically exhausting. It requires a great deal of compassion, resilience, and heart. It’s not a field for everyone, and that’s okay—it takes a certain kind of person to show up every day and support others through grief and loss.

At the same time, one of the biggest opportunities in this field is the ability to make a meaningful impact where there is still such a gap in care. The type of support, services, and closure we provide aren’t widely available to many women, which makes this work even more important. That’s why our fellowship program and our commitment to training the next generation of physicians is so critical. We’re not just caring for patients—we’re helping to shape the future of this specialty and expand access to care for women who truly need it.

It’s challenging work, without a doubt—but it’s also incredibly meaningful.

The values that matter most to me—both in my work and personal life—are patience, perseverance, and the belief that everything is figureoutable. While it might sound simple, perseverance truly is the key. Difficult times are never permanent, and no challenge lasts forever. Eventually, you rise above, and there’s always a way forward.

When I first started in my position, I thought I’d coined the phrase “everything is figureoutable,” but it turns out Etsy already had it. Still, the sentiment has guided me ever since. No matter how impossible a task may seem, there’s always a solution—it just takes time, focus, and a willingness to keep trying. I share this mindset with my surgeons all the time. When they give me a task that feels overwhelming, I simply say, “Everything is figureoutable,” and I go to work. Piece by piece, I figure it out every single time.

Listening, of course, is another key part of this process. By truly hearing what’s happening, reflecting, and taking steady action, you persevere in a way that actually leads to results. I carry this optimism into every aspect of my work. Even in highly emotional moments, I remain positive, and I encourage my patients to do the same. I remind them that closure comes in time, that persistence matters, and that better days are ahead.

At the heart of it, patience, perseverance, and the belief that solutions exist keep me grounded and motivated, no matter the challenges I face.