In March of this year, I was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer. As you can imagine, that made me think about dying and everything around it.

At first, my mind was focused mostly on the logistics of my death and what happens afterward. I was focused on the things I could change, which is an impulse that comes pretty natural to me.

So I spent time creating a will, setting up powers of attorney, making sure as much as possible would transfer directly to Sara without going through probate, and even putting together a playbook for what to do after I die—who to contact, where the money is, what bills and utilities we have, etc.

Lately, though, my mind has been gravitating more toward how I’m going to die.

There’s a long decline that I’ve already been in, and it’s only going to get gradually worse as/if the cancer continues to spread.

I’ll keep managing symptoms until, eventually, the symptoms take me.

Or I make it through this.

And if I do make it through, there will be a long road back on at least two fronts of getting my body back as well as returning to work in what is probably the most chaotic and perhaps existential period in our industry.

I’m not afraid of dying. But I’m definitely feeling more anxious about everything around it.

I haven’t given up. We’re still fighting. I’m actually getting infused with chemo as I write this, and Omanta is due to deliver a set of recommended therapies this week.

Things are not all sunshine, though.

And that’s okay.

It’s been roughly two months since we found out that my first line of cancer treatment had failed and that doctors thought I had about six months to live.

Following this news, we decided to move back to Wichita Falls where we proceeded with second line treatment.

Earlier this week, we found out that there was progression in the tumor, which means that second line treatment had also failed. (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Our oncologist at MD Anderson went ahead and prescribed us a set of chemotherapy drugs that will act as a third line of treatment and then referred us to the phase 1 trial group. But, after talking to the phase 1 trial group team, we don’t qualify for phase 1 trials, largely because I had a pulmonary embolism back in May.

In general, we left MD Anderson feeling like there were no other options that they could provide us.

So, what is next?

After talking to Matt Mullenweg, I looked into a few interesting options for continuing treatment. One of these is Omanta, a new company that acts as a dedicated research lab for patients. One of the founders of Omanta worked on Sid Sijbrandij’s team as he went founder mode on cancer.

The goal here is to pull together all of the data at our hands and find therapeutic options that already exist in the form of clinical trials or second line therapies, but that weren’t considered for some reason.

Following up from the previous band videos I uploaded, here is the band video for the 2004-2005 year, or my junior year of high school.

I’m generally an independent person. Asking for help is always at the bottom of the list for me in terms of actions that I would take on any given task.

I’ve always been relatively independent, but becoming an adult, and a father, made me realize that no one else was responsible for building the life I wanted for my family.

“No one is coming” is a bit of an extreme outlook. I’ve always had friends and family that would help me if I were to ask for it. It’s more a statement of responsibility than reality.

To me, I think of it as both a kick in the ass and a calm hand on my shoulder. It reminds me that I’m capable of figuring things out on my own. That if there’s a problem in front of me, my first instinct should be to learn, adapt, and do the work rather than wait for someone else to solve it.

Looking back, that mindset served me well. It pushed me to learn new skills, make intentional career decisions, and get our finances in order. More importantly, it created margin in our lives.

We took in family members at different times. We eventually adopted. None of those things would have been possible if we had been barely keeping our own heads above water.

It’s the same idea behind flight attendants’ instructions to place your air mask on first.

I’m now seeing the other side of this lesson. My family has seen an outpouring of support since I was diagnosed with cancer.

Friends donated through GoFundMe, opened their homes to us, sent postcards, and even did research on treatment options. They were able to help because, at some point, they had built margin into their own lives.

Maybe that’s the goal. Build a life with enough margin to help others when they need it, and enough humility to accept their help when it’s your turn.

I recently put out a call on Facebook for my fellow band nerds to share any photos that they may have from our time in band. Band was such a large part of my time in high school that I wanted to find some way to share this time with my kids.

There were several people that shared photos from yearbooks and scrapbooks. But, what I most enjoyed was a DVD that was made for the 2003-2004 school year, my sophomore year of high school. This DVD covers much of the year, including marching band, concerts, and our trip to Disneyland.

Watching the DVD was a fun trip through time. I’ve used handbrake to rip the DVD to MP4 and I’ll share the chapters below.

Christmas Concert

This first video is probably the one that has the most time with me showing in it. Early in the video, at around 44 seconds, I’m on the far right for the tuba Christmas intro. There are also several shots from jazz and concert band.

My coworkers have occasionally described me as fearless, unflappable, or having a high melting point.

I don’t think that I’m naturally fearless. What looks like fearlessness is probably the result of a strong desire to learn. In my Clifton Strengths results, you’ll see that learner is at the top of the list.

It may seem funny that I credit a desire to learn with me seeming fearless. But, the type of learning that I’m considering as I write this is very much experiential. The type of learning that comes from attempting something difficult, working through the discomfort of being inexperienced, and then gradually becoming competent.

At work, that often means taking on difficult or high-stakes projects. In my personal life, it has meant pursuing hobbies such as competitive shooting, 3D printing, and photography.

These experiences do not all carry the same consequences or benefits. A project worth millions of dollars creates a different kind of pressure than learning to take a good photograph. But the underlying process is the same, and the specific activity matters less than repeatedly going through that process.

Instead, I’d focus on the loop. Take on something that stretches you. Endure the awkward beginning. Learn enough to gain a level of competence. Then do it again.

Over time, being a beginner becomes less intimidating. With every loop, you’ll build confidence that you can enter unfamiliar situations and find your way through them. You’ll also develop skills that often become useful in unexpected contexts.

“If I had always done what I was ‘qualified’ to do, I’d be pushing a broom somewhere.” As I’ve also heard said, “Amateurs built the Ark, professionals built the Titanic.”

— Naval Ravikant, paraphrased by Dan Carlin in Tools of Titans

As I consider things to share with my children, it occurs to me that they may be interested in seeing the results from personality test that I’ve taken.

I’ve taken a few of these over the years for work, but the Clifton Strengths test has been my favorite.

I was a big band music nerd throughout junior high and high school. I joined every band and choir ensemble that I could.

The first instrument that I learned to play was the euphonium, which is a bit like a small tuba. While the instrument was not one that I would’ve picked, I quickly fell in love as I learned to play.

I joined jazz band in junior high, but euphoniums are not usually part of a jazz band. The brass section is usually built around trumpets and trombones.

You see, trombones and euphoniums are very similar. They’re pitched the same, they use the same size mouthpiece, and slide positions map to valve fingerings very cleanly. I was excited to learn to play trombone. But, before I knew it, my band director had given me a valve trombone.

More than 20 years later, I do not remember why I was assigned a valve trombone or why I could not get a regular trombone from the school. I just remember thinking that playing valve trombone would be cheating.

So, I went and bought a trombone on eBay. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

The trombone that I got was in a rough state with lacquer missing in many areas, particularly around the bell. But, the slide was smooth and there was a beautiful design on the bell because it was a King trombone.

After I bought that trombone, I didn’t pick up the valve trombone any more. I just learned to play trombone.

Eventually, I led the trombone section in high school. I played trombone solos in jazz band and marching band. All because, as a stubborn junior high kid, I decided that if I was going to play trombone, I was going to actually play trombone.

When I recently asked a coworker what he thought of me, he described me as “stubborn, in a good way”. Apparently this stubbornness has stuck.