An Unforgettable Day
The healthy man wants a thousand things. The sick man only one.
There are some days in your life that’ll never escape you. Instances on the margins of life experiences. You knew exactly where you stood each second. And when you’re reminded of them, those memories awaken the very psychological state that possessed you at the time of experiencing them. We all have our own individualized versions. Either exceptional memories or gut-wrenching ones. That day was the latter for me exactly one year ago today.
The Friday Call
It should have been a routine final Friday of May last year. Lady Phys & I were set to meet with my brother that evening in town. I moved to my current area a few months prior after being separated from him for more than 15 years while I was constantly on the move across the country & overseas.
I spoke with him on the phone earlier that morning to confirm our dinner meetup. He briefly mentioned scheduling an eye appointment for 9 AM that day because of blurred vision he noticed after getting out of the sauna the previous week.
Two hours later at 11 AM, I got a call from my sister-in-law: “We’re heading to the ophthalmologist. Optometrist told him his eyes looked like those of an 80 yr old. And he passed out immediately from the shock.”
Despite being separated from him for more than a decade and a half, few knew him better than I did. Growing up, we played sports together. Went to school together. Weekend trips together. Rarely apart. Then after high school, went our separate ways to pursue different paths. But our connection never once faded. I knew well he wasn’t one to pass out. And he sure as hell wasn’t someone who ever showed an ounce of fear at a little unexpected news.
Hours crawled by as my family & I stood by for an update. Finally around 4 PM, a text came over from my sister-in-law: “They’ve done a few tests & we’re heading back home for the night.” She kept it brief. I hesitated to push any further racing to his place 40 min away as soon as we hung up.
I walked in and asked aggressively, “What the hell happened?”. The mood was serious. Somber even. I didn’t get an immediate response. But eventually he answered with as much gloom as I’ve ever seen come out of him: “They have their suspicions as to what the likely cause is.”
The Diagnosis
Waking up Saturday morning, we all had the expectation of what would transpire for the day. It was only a question of the timing of it all. By 10 AM, I got the text he was admitted to the ER.
My brother & his wife sat there alone. His wife with a due date for their first son only 15 days from this point. I arrived an hour after they’d gotten there and as I walked in, he nodded with his head as to signal for me to look at the screen without a word spoken.
An image that is forever etched into my memory.
A white blood cells count 30x the normal reference range.
“Have them redraw”, I insisted. The nurse practitioner acquiesced.
Minutes later the results came back - all readings within 1-2% of the previous draw.
Impossible. This doesn’t happen to us. This is the kind of shit that happens to someone else but not us. This couldn’t have been our story. I’d imagine this is what most everyone considers in these moments. A sense of selfish denialism.
Both the hematologist & oncologist pulled me out the room to address me individually first. They had the feeling I was the most emotionally controlled - which among the three of us, this was relatively true. Someone needed to be. They looked at each other as though one was going to give the other the right time to let me know. I already knew. They knew I already knew. I interjected them asking how often they saw WBC numbers so elevated & platelets so low.
“Rarely…and we’re not sure how he’s even been able to walk 20 steps the last week.”
This was always him. Head down. Stubborn.
They resisted providing anything official until all tests were completed. By Sunday afternoon, he was diagnosed with T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (T-ALL) - an aggressive form of blood cancer commonly seen in young children that would require months of chemotherapy treatment.
You can read all the PubMeds you’d like. Experiment with research compounds in n = 1’s. Test out the different health protocols. But nothing will hit you harder in the moments when the simple statistics become anecdotes. And not just any anecdotes, personally felt battles. When you’re backed into the corner of accepting life’s fragility.
The Recovery
Mid-June: Only a couple weeks after his diagnosis & an urgent round of chemotherapy, my brother was physically & psychologically debilitated. Lost 15% of his total BW. Couldn’t finish a 30g whey protein shake. Couldn’t shower himself. Couldn’t see his daughter for more than a month. Battled recurring fevers > 101°F. Couldn’t be present for the birth of his son.
Mid-July: American Red Cross confirmed I was a perfect bone marrow match for him. Siblings have a 25% chance.
Early November: Underwent a third & final month-long round of chemotherapy prior to a peripheral stem cell blood donation.
November 14: The start of a 2-day peripheral blood stem cell draw for me as his donor. Blood extracted & centrifuged to harvest the stem cells.
November 15: Requirement for 3M stem cells. Donation included 4M. Blood draw concludes & transfusion begins immediately.
December: Bone marrow biopsies were nearly impeccable with no early signs of Graft-versus-host disease (GVHD) → ~40% odds when donor is related.
January: Complete remission attained.
Today, we can tell this story as one of victory. Though we’re never out of the woods. Unfortunately, not all those affected can say that. As a family, we remain forever grateful and thank God for giving us the strength to persevere as a unit together.
Never out of the fight.
What We Learned
I show up here weekly to discuss tactics to build your own individualized health protocols, share the latest research, & democratize broscience we’re personally testing. But this goes far beyond health. And it’s why I tell this story.
A 32 yr old dude. My only sibling. My best friend. Battling a brutal, rapidly-developing form of cancer who’s got just about everything going for him in life - 2 yr old daughter & incredible wife pregnant with their first son. Being immersed & watching this all with such a close emotional connection forces you into a deep reflection period. For long bouts of time.
Since today marks exactly one year, I view it as the perfect time to immortalize what we’ve learned as part of the experience. Realizations you’re coerced to accept as you recognize the fragility of life.
Not just spontaneous thoughts in one single setting. But ideas cultivated, reflected upon, and consolidated down to their most fundamental form over the last year. As always - take what fits + leave what doesn’t:
Lesson #1: Your health is your most important asset.
The antidote to uncertainty is preparation. Every action today, as a result of the foundational systems we adopt, is a vote for tomorrow’s proficiency in the fighter against the inevitable entropy of life. Whether it’s you yourself or a family member - each of us will be forced to face similar battles like this. A bug of life, but also a tremendous feature.
The day my brother was admitted to the oncology unit, the situation made me reconsider Steve Jobs’ personal bout against pancreatic cancer. A scenario that always left me in awe. One of the most successful entrepreneurs and powerful men of our time. Watching him build while growing up, then all of a sudden decay into a slow death from the time he was diagnosed in 2003 to his eventual death at the young age of 56. Gone. For all his worth & value added to this world. His spirit forever lives on, but there was no amount of wealth or status that could ever save him.
Lesson #2: The things you believe to be risks in life are typically transient states that’ll buff out quickly if you fail.
I witnessed within hours of the diagnosis him staring off into space & eventually uttering: “I don’t want to go back”. He need not explain. I knew. It was as though he was forced to confront his agency & unfulfilled wishes all at once. In this highly concentrated and narrow sliver of time. It was the feeling of potential left on the table. What more could he have added to the world if he was called away. I saw him ponder: “Did I get what I wanted out of this life?”. Personified in that moment was something that became clear in the past year for us both: the regret of not taking the risk becomes paradoxically a greater risk than avoiding it altogether.
Step into the arena. Get the 20% of information you need to launch. If you’re here reading this - you’re ahead. Now go & use it to your advantage. The fallback plan is what you’re currently doing anyways. So take the risk.
Lesson #3: What you believe to be real problems are rarely as big as you initially make them out to be.
Over the last year, I’ve programmed my internal dialogue: “not a real problem”.
Car cuts you off. Not a real problem.
Grocery store ran out of eggs. Not a real problem.
Toddler spills milk on the floor. Not a real problem.
Coworker sends you a passive aggressive email. Not a real problem.
If time heals it. If money solves it. If you won’t remember in 6 months. Don’t sweat it. Because stress is modernity’s real bioweapon. (Credit: BT Bull. Vindicated again.)
Lesson #4: Embrace your agency in the micro-habits.
I needed to take a step back this time last year. Logged off all socials for 6 consecutive weeks. Screen time was < 2 hrs/day. Started to realize how many decisions I was “making” driven by an algorithm. It took an extended digital fast coupled with an uncomfortable attention to detail to truthfully audit these parts of my life.
Resist being governed by algorithms & start being as deliberate as possible with your every micro-decision. Because there’s somebody out there the same age whose last day is today. And they’d do *anything* to be in your shoes & pursue the infinite opportunities you have in front of you.
Stop allowing life to happen to you & start imposing you onto your own life.
Lesson #5: One of the worst bugs about life happens to be one of its best features - no one cares.
No - I’m not referring to the support system during difficult times. Matter of fact it was quite the contrary in our case. The outpouring of support from this very community was nothing short of exceptional. I truly mean that and am eternally grateful for this.
I’m referring to your own life’s path. This is especially true if you’re a man.
You'll punt things. Feature.
You'll need to restart. Feature.
You'll be embarrassed. Feature.
Today’s culture of the modern West nudges us subtly towards governance by the fear & insecurity associated with low status within the hierarchy. Cortisol-addicted, hedonic treadmilling for the sake of itself.
The fix is simple, but not easy: Stop trying to win the games others think you’re playing to start winning the games you’re actually playing.
Audit your systems. And ask yourself - if no one else can know what I’m pursuing, would I still chase after it?
True skill coupled with obsession unequivocally answers “yes”. If hesitant - time to reevaluate your arc. Likely a decision was made for you subconsciously that got you to where you’re at today (there goes that governance by algorithm concept again…). Sink it deep into the brain stem again - no one cares. Feature. Not a bug.
Hope this story & message provides a nudge for you to continue your mission. Or begin to pursue the one tailored for your being on this Earth.
“Trials and tribulations offer us a chance to make reparation for our past faults and sins. On such occasions the Lord comes to us like a physician to heal the wounds left by our sins. Tribulation is the divine medicine.”
- St. Augustine of Hippo
Stay healthy. Build something. Love someone. Go set the world ablaze.
Your friend,
Phys
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