The Jellyfish Kiss
I’m a trauma-sensitive life & wellness coach and yoga & mindfulness teacher. Previously, I worked for over twenty-five years as an executive & consultant in the software and technology industry. But in October 2011, that all changed. While vacationing in Florida I was stung by a jellyfish under my left armpit. Other than some minor pain, it was no big deal. A few days later, I was stung again - at a different beach - but in the exact same place under my arm. Weird, right? When I got home the following week, I noticed a large purple mark stretching across my armpit and immediately assumed that it was a tick bite – a common occurrence on Cape Cod. But then I remembered the jellyfish stings and checked to see if there were venomous barbs stuck inside me. That's when I found the lump. Soon after, I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. I'll never forget when the oncology surgeon said, "you're lucky those jellyfish stung you or..." I immediately had surgery and within weeks entered a year-long clinical trial at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute with a new protocol of chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and radiation. During that time, I continued working as much as possible to try and "be normal" and not think about having cancer. But midway through my treatment, I began to experience such severe cognitive impairments that I was disabled from my job at the peak of my career in the tech sector. The brain dysfunction was initially presumed to be caused by chemotherapy toxicity. Yet, it was so severe that neurologists evaluated me for Alzheimer’s during cancer treatment. Fortunately, they determined that wasn't the cause, but they were baffled by the extent of my cognitive impairments that went far beyond "chemobrain". In 2014, after two years with almost no improvement, I finally found a neurologist who realized that my dementia symptoms were likely caused by side-effects of long-term benzodiazepine use which were exacerbated by chemotherapy toxicity. I'd initially been prescribed benzodiazepines fifteen years earlier while enduring insomnia, pain, and other symptoms from a year-long bout with Lyme Disease. Throughout the entire time, no medical provider ever suggested that I stop taking the drugs or mentioned potential side-effects such as those that had been harming me. To heal my brain and body, I stopped taking benzodiazepines. Even with all my other injuries, illnesses, treatments, and procedures - withdrawing from benzodiazepines was the most painful experience of my life. It was unimaginable and nearly indescribable. Throughout my journey to recover from all of these health challenges, I knew I could rely on two things to help me along my healing journey: the profound love and support from my family & friends, and my yoga and mindfulness practice. When I finally recovered enough in 2015, I wanted to share what I'd learned from my experience to help other people. I embarked on a new career combining the interrelated fields of mindfulness & yoga with life, health, and wellness coaching in areas where I have significant experience and expertise. Today, my passion is helping people navigate their own wellness journeys to feel happier, healthier, and have a sense of wellbeing, no matter what. I'm very grateful for my life - and especially for all the people that have shined their light on me and lifted me up with their love. And I'm also grateful for the jellyfish kisses that started me on my journey to heal. It was beyond luck that two different jellyfish, on two different beaches, at two different times, stung me in the same place - and that led me to discover cancer. I'm still here today because of a little luck and a lot of love.


Grateful for the Good Stuff
The many challenges I've faced led me to realize how lucky I am to still be here - in this body living on planet Earth. And now, more than ever, I'm thankful for the "good stuff" in my life. I’m grateful for all of the people that have shined their light on me and lifted me up with their love, especially my phenomenal wife and partner on this adventure of a lifetime, for our amazing son and our equally amazing daughter-in-law, for our brothers and all of our family and friends, for our dog Astro, for the love we all share and the time we spend together, for our home surrounded by ocean breeze on the tip of Cape Cod - and the feeling of hope that remains out here in this beautiful and unique place at the edge of the world - where most people still choose love.
Tomorrow's not a promise
We hope to live to an old age, but that's not always how it works. Life expectancy is only an estimate based on averages and nothing more. It's certainly not a given. At any point, for any reason or none at all, it can end in an instant.
I've survived long past my original expiration date, and I have no doubt that a bit of luck and a lot of love have extended my life.
Through it all, I've learned a few things along the way:
Tomorrow is not a promise; it's a wish, a hope, and a prayer. Time is precious, so do what you love, in places you love, with people you love, as often as possible.
Don't take anyone for granted, including yourself. Make sure to always "show and tell" the people you love that you love them.
And always be grateful for everything good in your life.
