Top Unique Reddit IAmA's The latest Unique IAmA's collected from Reddit I’m Dr. Joel Salinas, a neurologist at Harvard Med and Mass General and author of the memoir Mirror Touch. Among many, I have a form of synesthesia called “mirror touch”—my brain makes me literally feel what it sees other people feel...AMA! Hi Reddit! I’m Joel Salinas, a neurologist that specializes in cognitive and behavioral neurology at Harvard Medical School and Massachusetts General Hospital and author of the memoir Mirror Touch.

Proof photo:

Short Description: I have synesthesia, which is a neurobiologically-based perceptual phenomenon that means that, whenever I experience something with one of my senses, I involuntary experience it through other senses, too. Among several forms of synesthesia, one form of synesthesia I have is mirror-touch synesthesia ("mirror touch" for short). The easiest way to understand mirror touch is for me to say that whatever I see someone else feel -- physically, emotionally -- my brain makes me literally feel, too. If you’re slapped on your right wrist, I feel like I’m slapped on your left wrist. If you’re gasping for air, I feel like I’m gasping for air. If you have morning sickness, I feel like I have morning sickness. Because of mirror touch, my brain categorizes you and me as the same person and tries to recreate your experience based on the situation and my own past experiences. In other words, “Mirror touch” is the experience of physically feeling my brain’s take on the physical sensations of whoever I see. Mirror touch is a mindblowing aspect of the brain that people hardly know about and -- whether you have mirror touch or not -- the more you learn about it, the more it’ll make you rethink every interaction you have.

If you’re slapped on your right wrist, I feel like I’m slapped on your left wrist. If you’re gasping for air, I feel like I’m gasping for air. If you have morning sickness, I feel like I have morning sickness. The mirrored sensations can range anywhere from pleasure to pain based on the situation and my brain’s past experiences. If anything, mirror touch is like an automatic, conscious, very physical super empathy.

TL;DR Description: Synesthesia is a family of unique perceptual phenomena (i.e., sensory experiences) that involves one type of sensory information triggering another (apparently unrelated) type of sensory information. This can involve experiencing colors with letters, shapes with sounds, taste with smells, and many many more exotic combinations.

Mirror touch can thus be considered the synesthetic mixing of sight (and often other senses) with touch. Specifically, the sight of other people triggers a mirrored touch-experience. For example, if I were to see someone in front of me stroking their right cheek, I would feel a simultaneous physical sensation of a phantom finger stroking my left cheek.

In seeing that touch, in a way, my brain automatically assumes that they are my reflection or that I am their reflection. In doing so, my brain uses whatever past experiences and predictions it can muster to conjure up the physical experience of touch on my skin, even though most of the time I know that it’s in my brain and not actually on my skin or in my body.

The feeling is literal, mechanical, and pretty vivid. It's a measurable, falsifiable (therefore, not pseudoscientific) experience that I think highlights all the different ways that our brains can take shape due to genetic differences and much more.

If we were to slow down the mirror-touch experience and zoom in on what’s going on, it’s not like a psychic link with the other person where their mental experience is channeled into me through some kind of pixie dust. Mirror touch occurs completely through my brain and my senses, not through anything supernatural.

So, if I were hypothetically thrown into a silent, dark sensory deprivation tank -- like Eleven on Stranger Things -- and I'm completely unaware that there's anyone else outside the tank, my brain would have no information to trigger the mirror touch experience.

The mirrored sensations can be anywhere from pleasurable to painful depending on how my brain categorizes the information, which is based on context and my past experiences. And there's really no limit to what my brain will try to recreate -- as close as possible -- regardless of what it sees, and regardless of whether I've physically experienced it before, like childbirth or death.

If anything, mirror touch works more like a kind of automatic, conscious, very physical super empathy.

That said: While mirror touch is a very natural part of my day-to-day life given that I’ve had it since I can remember, being a neurologist that works with patients on a daily basis and having mirror touch makes for an... interesting experience.

In my recent memoir, Mirror Touch, I share my story and what I’ve learned from my experience living with a brain that blurs that boundaries between myself and other people:

I think my uncommon personal experience with mirror touch drew me toward medicine since childhood, and has continued to shape me as a doctor. It means that I’m more likely to share a deeper connection with patients, their suffering, and ultimately their care. The decision to pursue medicine really solidified while I was in the Amazon rainforest studying the interaction of biological health--physical and mental--with how we relate with one another.

Having a little more insight into what my patients are feeling than most, I've always placed a lot of importance on my patients' needs as a person. Our thoughts, our feelings, and how we perceive and predict the world around us is precious. It helps shape who we are as a person, and other people in kind. This is why, in medical school, I was spellbound by the beauty and marvel of the brain and the emergence of human behavior, moment-to-moment. Thus, to be a neurologist, caring for people and their whole nervous system -- the motherboard of our reality -- represented a special opportunity to have a profound impact on a person's life.

Reach out to talk about synesthesia, mirror touch, neurodiversity, brain health, or anything really (I'm chatty--and when I say “anything” I really mean ANYTHING)!

If you need more convincing I’m real--

You can check out some of my interviews here:



You can check out peer-reviewed studies about mirror touch in reputable scientific journals here.

More info here:


Connect and/or stalk me here:

Really looking forward to chatting with you!

UPDATE: Going to step away, but I'll be back at 5pm EST to answer more of your questions!

UPDATE: I'm back and ready for more questions! Bring 'em on!

UPDATE: Thank you so much for all your questions! This was a lot of fun! I might pop back in later tonight to answer more questions, so please feel free to keep askin' away!

UPDATE: I'm back to answer a few more questions before callin' it a night!

UPDATE: Time for this neurologist to practice what he preaches and head to bed! Thank you, thank you, thank you all for asking so many awesome questions!!

Sat, 14 Apr 2018 0:00:00 EDT
CrosspostI'm Randy Bryce. thanks to your support, we just repealed Paul Ryan. Now it's time to replace him. AMA. [xpost /r/Political_Revolution] Hi Reddit! My name's Trevor Ault, I work for KOIN-6 News in Portland, Oregon. Earlier this week for my 2-year work anniversary I posted a video of me saying silly things on tv, out of context:

My friend shared it to Reddit and the response was overwhelming. So many comments were incredibly kind, and only one person told me to kill myself. I count that as a victory.

Some of you reached out to me to do an AMA, and I'm taking off on a road trip, so I've got plenty of time.

I've been a Reddit lurker for years but never comment (as evidenced by post history). Looking forward to answering your questions and providing context to the video. Yes, I really do eat Oreos like that.


Update: Folks, this has been great. I'm now entering Canada and will be signing off for the time being. Thanks so much for your hospitality and your great questions. Doing something worthy of an AMA has secretly been a career goal of mine, and this was even better than I hoped or deserved. I'll definitely come back some time if you'll have me. Until then, back to lurking I go!

(Also if you tune in to KOIN Monday morning to try to watch, I won't be there, because of the Canada thing. See you Wednesday)

Fri, 13 Apr 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceIamA, I'm Toby Robyns, father of five who spent 6 weeks in a Turkish prison, AMA! Randy and Jason Sklar have a knack for exploring what makes America’s cities unique and wonderful, whether it’s finding out who in San Diego serves the best burritos, why basketball is so popular among those in Bloomington, or why the people of Portland can't let go of their old airport carpeting.

Randy and Jason Sklar's upcoming long-form audio documentary, Sklars and Stripes, is poised for an April 5, 2018 release on Audible. The docu-comedy captures their experiences on the road and, as a bonus chapter on Audible, all listeners receive a full album of the Sklars' stand-up from the tour: The TourTapes. The 6-hour Sklars and Stripes is exclusively available on Audible and Amazon now, and can be downloaded for free with an Audible 30-day free trial or as a premium Audible credit for members.


Tue, 10 Apr 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Request[AMA Request] Someone who attended the Nirvana "MTV Unplugged" show in 1993. Hello Redditors, my name is Charles Walker and I serve on the Standing Rock Sioux Tribal Council.

You may remember us from standing against the Dakota Access Pipeline, which we continue to fight in court. Our Tribe recently submitted a report to the Army Corps highlighting the dangerous impacts of the pipeline on our people and homeland (there is a link to the report below), and we are preparing for a spill.

The Dakota Access Pipeline has already leaked five times along its route, and our Tribe's report to the Army Corps shows that the current leak detection system can't detect all spills under our water supply. At this time a spill of more than 11,000 barrels per day would go undetected, and would devastate our homeland. The impacts of spills and leaks on our community have not been properly addressed by the Army Corps, and they are unable to address a worst case oil discharge. And so we started a Clean Water Campaign so that we can establish a water safety system, which involves water monitoring systems, training a response team and purchasing equipment for spill response.

You can learn more about the Clean Water Campaign here:

Standing Rock Sioux Tribe's Report: ( [Our website is down at this time, but it should be back up in an hour or so hopefully!]

Link to our Facebook/Twitter:


Tue, 10 Apr 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Request[AMA Request] John Krasinski Hello Redditors, my name is Charles Walker and I serve on the Standing Rock Sioux Tribal Council.

You may remember us from standing against the Dakota Access Pipeline, which we continue to fight in court. Our Tribe recently submitted a report to the Army Corps highlighting the dangerous impacts of the pipeline on our people and homeland (there is a link to the report below), and we are preparing for a spill.

The Dakota Access Pipeline has already leaked five times along its route, and our Tribe's report to the Army Corps shows that the current leak detection system can't detect all spills under our water supply. At this time a spill of more than 11,000 barrels per day would go undetected, and would devastate our homeland. The impacts of spills and leaks on our community have not been properly addressed by the Army Corps, and they are unable to address a worst case oil discharge. And so we started a Clean Water Campaign so that we can establish a water safety system, which involves water monitoring systems, training a response team and purchasing equipment for spill response.

You can learn more about the Clean Water Campaign here:

Standing Rock Sioux Tribe's Report: ( [Our website is down at this time, but it should be back up in an hour or so hopefully!]

Link to our Facebook/Twitter:


Sat, 07 Apr 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Health-LiveI was crushed, severely injured, and nearly killed in a conveyor belt accident....AMA! On May 25, 2016, I was sitting on and repairing an industrial conveyor belt. Suddenly, the conveyor belt started up and I went on a ride that changed my life forever.

I spent 16 days in the hospital where doctor's focused on placing a rod and screws into my left arm (which eventually became infected with MRSA and had to be removed) and to apply skin grafts to areas where I had 3rd degree burns from the friction of the belt.

To date, I have had 12 surgeries with more in the future mostly to repair my left arm and 3rd degree burns from the friction of the belts.

The list of injuries include:

-Broken humerus -5 shattered ribs -3rd degree burns on right shoulder & left elbow -3 broken vertebrae -Collapsed lung -Nerve damage in left arm resulting in 4 month paralysis -PTSD -Torn rotator cuff -Torn bicep tendon -Prominent arthritis in left shoulder

Here are some photos of the conveyor belt:

The one I was sitting on when it was turned on:

I fell down below to this one where I got caught in between the two before I eventually broke my arm, was freed, and ended up being sucked up under that bar where the ribs and back broke before I eventually passed out and lost consciousness from not being able to breathe:


Mon, 12 Feb 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceI've been to almost 150 countries on a 15$ budget. This year I'll visit every country in Europe, climb the highest mountain and paraglide down. AMA! My short bio: Hey everyone! My name is Patrick and instead of doing sensible things like attending university and getting an education, I instead decided to travel the world. That was 10 years ago and by now I've been to most countries.

The part that's most likely interesting to you is that this can be done with a really low budget and I'd be happy to help you plan your own trip.

In addition to that I love crazy outdoor experiences. I've cycled to most countries, crossed the Sahara by bike, cycled in the Siberian winter, I climb mountains, big rocks, and generally spend time in rather remote regions.

I've ridden everything from touring bikes, road bikes, MTBs, folding bikes and ebikes on tour. Aluminum, steel, titanium, carbon, even a bamboo bike.

Lets talk all things travel, cycling, gear, ultralight and general crazy ideas. :)

Since I kinda ran out of places to cycle to, I spend the last year trying out new things and I came up with this idea: I'll go on something I call the High Point Ride. I want to visit every country in Europe, climb the highest mountain and (weather and law permitting) paraglide down.

That means 47 countries and peaks, over 20000km of cycling, over 125000m in altitude on foot and who knows how many flights. :)

You can read more about it and follow the tour on:

Or read a bit more about my previous trips on

My Proof: Proof on Twitter

As always: I'll stay till everything is answered. :) If you want to do something similar, ride or hitchhike or backpack around the world, please let me know what I can do to help. I love getting people out on the open road.

Cheers, Patrick

Edit: Well, this Ama starts really well. I'll head to bed, have a look tomorrow. Can't get worse than 0 points. ;)

Wed, 24 Jan 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceI set the EV Cannonball Run Record in my Tesla Model 3, AMA! My short bio: My brother waited in line for me at the Tesla store in West Palm Beach on March 31, 2016 to make a Model 3 reservation and put a $1,000 deposit down on the car. Tesla provided current Tesla owners with priority over non-owners and provided reservation holders in California with priority over the rest of the country. Since I am a Tesla Model S owner, I had priority over non-owners, but living in Florida put me at a disadvantage against almost everyone else in the country. To get around this issue, I planned on taking delivery of my Model 3 at the Tesla factory in Fremont, California. It was a risk, but apparently my strategy worked because I was one of the first to receive a configuration invite from Tesla.

Since I was picking my car up in Fremont, and I knew that the Model 3 was much more efficient than the Model S that held the Cannonball EV record at that time, I was kicking around the idea of trying to beat the record with some friends. At that time, I had never heard of Alex Roy or that he held multiple Cannonball Records for both gas and electric cars.

I met Alex when he PM’d me on the Model 3 Owner’s Club site. He had found out that I was taking delivery of one of the first non-employee Model 3’s and was interested in flying down to Florida to shoot some pictures of my car. I emailed Alex telling him that he was welcome to fly down and take pictures of the car. Once I found out that he had recently lost the Cannonball Run EV record, I also asked if he was interested in regaining his title with me. He responded, “Set a new EV Cannonball record with you in the [T]M3? YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.”

I flew up to San Francisco on December 27, 2017 and did not take delivery of my Model 3 until late that night. I woke up at 4:00 AM the next morning and headed down to meet Alex at LAX. On December 28, 2017, we set out to beat the official Cannonball Run EV record of 51:47 and an official record of 51:17. We drove from the Portofino Hotel in L.A. to the Red Ball Garage in NYC in 50:16, setting the new record.

You can ask me anything about the Model 3, Alex Roy, our trip, or why I’m selling my Model 3.

Article regarding my invitation to configure:

Article regarding my delivery:

Cannonball Run EV Record:

Alex Roy’s review of my car:

Reason why I'm selling my Model 3:

eBay Listing for my Model 3:


My Proof:

Wed, 10 Jan 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceI am Brandon from Toronto and I got to drum with The Killers AMA! I am an infosec professional and "red teamer" who together with a crack team of specialists are hired to break into offices and company networks using any legal means possible and steal corporate secrets. We perform the worst case scenarios for companies using combinations of low-tech and high-tech attacks in order to see how the target company responds and how well their security is doing.

That means physically breaking into buildings, performing phishing against CEO and other C-level staff, breaking into offices, planting networked rogue devices, getting into databases, ATMs and other interesting places depending on what is agreed upon with the customer. So far we have had 100% success rate and with the work we are doing are able to help companies in improving their security by giving advice and recommendations. That also includes raising awareness on a personal level photographing people in public places exposing their access cards.

AMA relating to real penetration testing and on how to get started. Here is already some basic advice in list and podcast form for anyone looking to get into infosec and ethical hacking for a living:

Proof is here

Thanks for reading

EDIT: Past 6 PM here in Copenhagen and time to go home. Thank you all for your questions so far, I had a blast answering them! I'll see if I can answer some more questions later tonight if possible.

EDIT2: Signing off now. Thanks again and stay safe out there!

Sun, 07 Jan 2018 0:00:00 EDT
Request[AMA Request] Any Football(Soccer) Commentator EDIT: This has been a very valuable experience. Thanks so much for your intelligent and thoughtful questions. Be sure to visit us on the website link below to SeaLegacy. You can download our Impact Report and learn more about what we do. Happy and safe holidays to everyone!

We are Paul Nicklen and Cristina Mittermeier, two biologists, photographers, and co-founders of the conservation group Our work has been featured in National Geographic Magazine and we’re focusing a lot these days to work on protecting the oceans. Recently, National Geographic published our footage of a starving polar bear that caught the world’s attention. We’re here to answer any and all your questions about the bear and the deeply concerning situation regarding climate change.


Mon, 18 Dec 2017 0:00:00 EDT
Request[AMA Request] Michael Daaph (Big Shaq), the man that can never be hot The conditions are horrible, the atmosphere is one of despair and desperation, basic necessities are difficult to come by and art supplies almost impossible to find.

People are often held here for years, sometimes for more than a decade, cut off from their families, from their jobs, from the world. It's especially hard during the holiday season with so many being kept from their familes, often with young kids who don't understand why daddy isn't at home.

I'm also the artist behind "Flowers For Bicutan", a fundraiser trying to supply food, medicine and legal aid to the detainees held in a third world detention center. I'll be donating artwork in exchange for donations.

Ask me about living here, about being an artist under these conditions, about the affects of "indefinite temporary detention" etc. Ask me anything.

Proof of location:

Please note that I cannot reveal my identity as Immigration staff forbid us from using social media.

Fri, 15 Dec 2017 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceIAmA Puerto Rican without power since Irma(86 days)! AMA I’m a 21 year old that experienced his first hurricane(technically 2 but Irma just went past us) and during the first 20mins I wanted it to be over. I stayed awake for 24hrs throughout the whole storm. Now I’m dealing with the problems while still going to college!

More info: I spent the first few weeks doing 6-8hr lines for gas & 3-5hr lines for bags of ice. Then everyday I would drop off my electronics at a neighbor’s house which had a generator. Now things normalized and gas lines are gone, ice isn’t an issue and I own a generator thanks to family from the mainland that sent it to us.


Edit: Hurricane damage

Edit: How I charge my electronics. I own 6 of these

Edit: power cables connected around the house

Edit: More proof! My roofless balcony & neighborhood atm

Edit: Whoa this got traction! Questions can keep coming(something to do while I wait for generator lol) I got up early this morning and gonna head to Ponce with my dad and try to see the areas that were affected by the storm along the way.

Edit: It’s 87 days now.

Edit: You can donate here to help!

Edit: Have an album of pics during and after the storm provided by my family

Thu, 30 Nov 2017 0:00:00 EDT
Request[AMA Request] Julie Andrews My short bio: I wrote down my experience Tuesday morning to capture the details while they were still vivid and fresh.

A lot of friends and strangers, both those whom were there and those who weren't said that it helped them in different ways.

We're all going to deal with this in our own ways. So far, I've felt that it's tough to talk about or write down, but afterwards I feel slightly less terrible.

Sitting in my Woodland Hills apartment while my girlfriend Jamie is sleeping. Not doing much to spend my time right now, so I figured I'd try and have a discussion.

Hoping this may help with the mental health process, as well as potentially help others.

My Proof: & here are more photos before things went down.

Thu, 05 Oct 2017 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceIamA 91-year-old former educator and WWII officer (stateside) back for AMA #5! I’m a Field Biologist, who specializes in Hummingbirds, I’m also a Conservation Photographer, I’ve been doing research and photography in the tropics for over tens year, mostly in Costa Rica and Panama.

This upcoming year I’ll be traveling again to Costa Rica to work on a multi-year project I co-founded in Northern Costa Rica. We look at the site fidelity of Neotropical migrants, habitat usage of resident birds, and Hummingbird populations.

I have been working hard to use Social Media, as a platform to bring greater awareness to Research, Conservation, and Science.

I wanted to take this opportunity to showcase some of my work and talk to people about the research and photography.

Recent articles:

Proof: Twitter account @GourmetScience

You can find out more about me and my work below:

Thu, 28 Sep 2017 0:00:00 EDT
Unique ExperienceI Ran 7 Ultra Marathons on 7 Continents and Raised $193,000 to Build Schools in Laos, Ghana and Guatemala - AMA! Hello, reddit!

You may or may not remember me from a while back. I posted an AMA about all of this back in September of last year, which you can read here. Let's also get the housekeeping out of the way: proof from today which you can compare to my proof from the first time.

If you’re not aware, today is actually Mesothelioma Awareness Day, so I figured this would be a pretty good way to raise awareness for mesothelioma. We’re not all geriatric smokers towing around our oxygen canisters!

  • If you can believe it, this is the short version of my story. I've actually written almost an entire book about this, at this point, and the Mesothelioma Applied Research Foundation has been publishing my chapters as blog posts on their site. You can get started with reading it right here, if you're interested. It's broken into readable/digestible chunks that actually work pretty well.

  • I'd really love any constructive feedback you guys might have about it. My goal is to one day try to get it published, but I'm not sure if any publishers would take me seriously. What do you think? Interesting book? Garbage pulp-fiction? I honestly can't tell. Would you buy and read this book?

  • If you'd like to do something to help for mesothelioma patients, consider changing your charity on to the Mesothelioma Applied Research Foundation.

Anyway, back in March of 2016 – just a few short months after I got engaged to the love of my life – I was diagnosed with peritoneal mesothelioma. What the hell is that, you might ask? It's a super rare cancer of the lining of the belly. Whenever you say, "mesothelioma," everyone thinks lung cancer and asbestos exposure. It turns out that you can get mesothelioma from a variety of places in the body, and that the lung kind is just the most common and most strongly associated with asbestos exposure. I've never been exposed to asbestos, to my knowledge. I'm just a lucky guy.

For years leading up to the diagnosis, I'd have these weird episodes of vague abdominal pain and nausea. They'd usually go away on their own after a few days, or I'd feel better if I threw up, but the symptoms were so infrequent and non-specific that I didn't really think about it too hard. It didn't sound like any diseases I'd ever heard about, and I was a doctor, so I knew things, right?

Well, eventually it dawned on me that there was something more going on than just the stress of residency hurting my delicate feelings. I went to the GI doctors and they put a camera down into my stomach. They saw some inflammation in the esophagus (food tube), and they took a biopsy which showed eosinophilic esophagitis, which is basically asthma of the esophagus. So we had an answer, or so I thought. This was about a year before my actual diagnosis.

Over the course of that year, the episodes of pain got worse and worse, until one day I had focal pain and swelling in my right lower quadrant. I thought I was having appendicitis, so I went to the ER to get a CT scan, and that's when we found out something was wildly amiss. I had abnormal fluid (ascites) all throughout my belly, and there were abnormal masses along the lining of the abdomen, and my right colon was grossly thickened and irregular. It was the radiology equivalent of a dumpster fire.

So after a work-up that involved cameras down my throat and up my butt, we finally got the diagnosis of peritoneal mesothelioma. Here are some fun facts about peritoneal mesothelioma that you might not know: it exists. The average age at diagnosis is about 50-55. The life expectancy for people who can't get surgery is about 6-18 months. It's super rare, about one case per million people per year. There's a saying in medicine that goes, "if you hear hoof beats, think horses not zebras." Meaning, if someone has a common symptom, the diagnosis is probably pretty common as well. Peritoneal mesothelioma isn't a horse. It's not even a zebra. It's a freaking unicorn.

At the time, they didn't think I was a surgical candidate. They thought I had too much disease. But, sometimes the imaging doesn't 100% reflect the reality of the situation, so they put some cameras in my belly to take a look, and when they did that, there wasn't quite as much disease as they originally thought. They decided that I was, in fact, a surgical candidate. We'd try a two-step approach, where they'd take out as much as they could during the first surgery, but they leave in anything that would be too technically challenging to remove, or which would necessitate removal of an entire organ that they wouldn't really want to remove, like a stomach (very morbid procedure). Then, we'd do chemotherapy in the belly to try to shrink it, and then we'd go back for a second surgery a few months later to try to take out the rest of it. Before all of this happened, I used to say things like, "I wouldn't let a surgeon touch me unless I were literally dying." So hopefully that will give you a sense of how serious this was, because more than anything else in the world, I wanted to go to surgery.

So we went to surgery, and they took out a bunch of stuff: spleen, distal pancreas, gallbladder, portions of the liver surface, half of my colon, all the lining of my abdomen, and all the masses they could get out. It took about 12 hours. Also during the surgery they did this thing called HIPEC, which is heated chemotherapy in the belly. The idea is that we can physically remove bulky, visible disease. The chemo is to take care of the microscopic disease that we know is there but can't see. It's heated so it penetrates the cells better. But even 12 hours wasn't enough time to get it all out. We'd have to save some for round two. There was a golf-ball sized nodule near my stomach that they had to leave it, because my surgeon was worried that if he tried to take it out, I'd end up losing my stomach. That's something you really don't want, for a variety of reasons.

Meanwhile, and even though we didn't know it for a few days, the chemo they used during the HIPEC was absolutely wrecking my kidneys. A few days after surgery, I went into severe acute renal failure. Normally, for an average man, your creatinine (a waste protein excreted by your kidneys) is about 1 mg/dL. If you were working outside and got heat stroke to the point that you needed to come to the ER, your creatinine might be 2-3 mg/dL, and something like that would probably buy you at least one night in the hospital. My creatinine eventually peaked above 10 mg/dL which is what we, in the medical field, call "pretty fucking bad."

A few days into the hospital stay, I started dialysis and would be on that 3 times a week for about three months. Obviously, with dialysis, you need some way to get blood in and out of your body so it can get cleaned by the dialysis machine, so they placed what's known as a "tunneled line." Basically, it's a long-term IV in one of the big veins in your body, but then instead of coming out of the skin right where it goes into the vein, the tubing is tunneled under the skin (but outside of the vein) for a few inches so that it (1) doesn't come out right at your neck and (2) greatly lowers the chance of bacteria getting into the blood stream. People can have tunneled lines for months and occasionally years. Regular IVs only last a week or two at most, and are also way too small to use for dialysis.

I was in the hospital, in total, for about 10 days during the first surgery. About half of that was in the ICU. I could go into great detail about the nature of patienthood and hospital admission, but we'd never finish the overall story in a reasonable amount of time. I write about this a lot in my book, though. Between the renal failure and all the drugs I was getting for pain, I was pretty loopy in the hospital and I remember having hallucinations and talking to people who weren't there and all of that fun stuff. But after about a week, things were getting better and I was just sitting around getting dialysis, which you can also do at an outpatient center. It was finally time to go home.

One thing they don't really tell you about the dialysis catheter is that it's a big honkin' hose, not some little peripheral IV tubing. You need to move a lot of blood during a short time, so you need a large caliber tube to do that. And the larger the caliber tube in your vein, the more chances for problems. Problems like blood clots. And I had basically all of the risk factors for blood clots, too: recent surgery, physical immobility, cancer, indwelling foreign body (the tube). The only one I was missing was pregnancy, which was good because I was in no shape to be pregnant, even if I wanted to be. So one day after dialysis, my arm and neck started getting tight and swollen: I had a blood clot in my neck and arm veins.

So I went to the ER. They started treatment without getting any scans because it was such a slam-dunk diagnosis. They put me on a heparin drip, which is a blood thinner that works immediately, and started me on oral blood thinners that take a couple days to kick in. I already knew I was a lucky guy, but I found out that day what a unique and special snowflake I really am: turns out, heparin doesn't work on me. Nothing bad happens when I get it, it's just that nothing at all happens when I get it. So we wasted an entire day in the hospital figuring that out. I was in the hospital for a week just waiting for the oral blood thinner to kick in.

They finally let me go home from that one. Now, I was going to dialysis clinic every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings until about noon, and at least twice a week I'd also have to go to the anti-coagulation clinic to make sure my blood clotting times were in the therapeutic range. Not too thin, not too thick… just right. That's how we like our blood thinner levels.

Your whole identity turns into being "a patient" when you're in a situation like that. Keep in mind that the surgery was at most 2-3 weeks prior to all of this. My surgical wound wasn't even close to being healed. I could still barely walk around a Bed, Bath, and Beyond without having to take a few rest stops on the display furniture they had set up. For months, I felt like my life was nothing but feeling vaguely bad and going to doctor's appointments. Where, of course, you play the, "hurry up and wait" game.

Anyway, it was at one of the next dialysis sessions where the next problem cropped up. This time, it was at the end of one of the treatments, and I had to go pee (which is slightly ironic because most people on dialysis don't make a lot of urine). Well, when I got in the bathroom, I noticed that my undershirt was wet and there was a hint of this putrid odor in the air.

So I opened up the abdominal binder I had on, and the dressings were soaked. With pus. It was a giant purulent mess. Just as an aside to any young medical people, infected wounds with pus are described as being "purulent." You can't write the –y form of "pus" on the chart. Try it some time, and you'll see why. Anyway, this stuff is just oozing out of my abdominal wound. I cleaned it up the best I could, attempted to make a pressure dressing to keep it in one spot, and called the surgical oncology office. They told us to come on by.

One of the residents came to see me and confirmed that yes, I did in fact, have an infected surgical incision. Once you get something like that, it has to basically fill in from the bottom with granulation tissue and heal up on its own. If you try to just sew it closed, it just leaves a potential space for bacteria to form abscesses.

So the resident took the blunt end of a scalpel and started probing the wound to see how much would open up. After it was all said and done, it was about 4 inches top to bottom, and about 2 inches deep. The deep layer had come open, too, and you could see a single surgical suture holding the two sides of my abdominal wall together. I could see my own intestines. I could have put a finger down the hole and literally touched my own bowel. I didn't, because that seemed gross and also like a really bad idea. But I could have.

So with wounds like that, you want to both pack and clean them, and we do that with "wet-to-dry" dressings. Basically, you get some appropriate material (eg, Kerlex), get it wet, and shove it in the wound. Then you let it dry, take out the material, and repeat the whole process over and over until it's healed. That way you're cleaning the wound every time you change the bandage, because all of the gross stuff on top comes out with the bandages, leaving only the nice healthy viable tissue underneath.

This went on for about a month. Things slowly got better, but for the longest time I couldn't take a shower because of all of this. For months, I'd sit on the edge of the tub and wash all of the important parts. You know what I'm talking about. I don't know about you, but a nice shower is one of my more favorite things in life (right up there with the pee shivers after holding it in forever). And sometimes you don't appreciate the little things like that until they're gone.

But life continued, as it does. I'd go to dialysis or Coumadin clinic 4-5 times a week. I'd change out the wet-to-dry dressings in the surgical wound 2-3 times a day. I took all of my blood thinners as instructed. Things slowly improved. However, we'd been holding off on chemo given all of the complications, and it was rapidly approaching time to start that.

I only had intra-abdominal chemo at first. We used carboplatin and doxorubicin and we'd alternate medications each week for 8 weeks of treatment - 4 cycles to use the oncology parlance… and don't "cycles" sound just so much more fancy? The doxorubicin was tolerable. It basically just made by belly hurt and made it difficult to stand up all the way, or lay completely flat, because the stretching really hurt. Carboplatin just makes you puke and feel like shit. You get used to all of it after a while.

Anyway, during the very first surgery, we had placed two intra-abdominal ports to access the abdomen for chemotherapy. We didn't really need two, but we figured it would be nice to have a backup in case one failed. And what would the chances be of both of them failing? Astronomically low, right?

As you may be deducing by now, I'm a pretty lucky guy. One of the ports just stopped working, so we stopped using it. The other port had its anchoring sutures come loose, and it started moving under the skin. It turned in a funny way underneath the skin, and after a few days of it "just" hurting pretty badly, it ended up partially eroding through my skin. A few days later, and through something of a minor miracle, one of the interventional radiologists was able to place a 3rd abdominal port, and it worked beautifully. This was about 5 months after the initial diagnosis, and it occurred to me that this was the first time that something in this entire fucked up process had actually gone according to plan.

Between the surgery itself, all its associated complications like the surgical wound opening back up, dialysis, the blood clot, the fact that heparin doesn't work on me, and the fact that both of my ports failed, I was pretty much done with all of this crap, thank you very much. I thought I'd handled it pretty well up until that point, all things considered. But when that freaking port eroded through my body wall, that was it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

So I went to go see them in clinic again shortly after that, and discussed everything with them. This was towards the end of July in 2016, and by that point the blood clot and the dialysis had pretty much resolved (although I now have permanent renal impairment and am currently at CKD stage IIIb). The debacle with the ports and feeling like shit from chemo had been taking its toll on me, and so we decided to hold off on more treatment for the time being. It was the first time since this whole process started that I finally got a (very welcome) reprieve from treatment.

Our wedding was coming up in about 6 weeks, and they were going to give me a chemo holiday and let me regain some strength before the wedding. And then, we were going on a kickass honeymoon to Cozumel! Woo! So that break came right at the perfect time.

Our wedding was the single best day of my life, hands down. It was a huge, fun, amazing party with all of our closest friends and family there to celebrate it with us. We played Bohemian Rhapsody as our final song, and even during the last song at the end of a very long night, the entire dance floor was packed with everyone singing along. It's one of my favorite memories from that night.

A couple days later, we went on an amazing dive trip to Cozumel. It was some of the best diving I've done (though my experience is pretty limited), and we had a fantastic time just spending a normal week with each other, far away from all of the bullshit of treatment and cancer problems. I made a video from some of the gopro footage I took, which you can see here. I hope you'll check it out! I put a lot of work into it, and I'm fairly proud of it.

I also need to stop for a second here and just tell you guys how amazing my wife really is. We had just gotten engaged about 3 months prior to my diagnosis. Not everyone is super excited about entering into a long-term commitment where you know the other person is going to be chronically ill. I even asked her, at the time, if she wanted to "stay in the game," so to speak. But, and this is why I married her as fast as I possibly could, she said something to the effect of, "stop being a ridiculous idiot, our wedding date is set, so you'd better get planning!"

My dear reader, I hope you will grant me a small courtesy here, and allow me to address Nicole directly, just for a brief moment. Nicole, you are the absolute love of my life. My source of unending strength. I love you in a way I never thought you could love another human being. I feel it in my heart. I know it, deep down in the core of my being. I love you. Now, and forever.

Thanks guys! Now back to the story! Once we got back from vacation, it was time to start chemo again. We had planned on doing a few more cycles, but when I started back up, it hit me like a ton of bricks. And, I was still planning on trying to take my radiology board exam in November, a mere 6 weeks away at that point. But as it often turns out, life had other plans for me.

A couple weeks after we got back, I started having a sensation of early fullness when eating, and I noticed my bowel movements were becoming less frequent. Then, I started having these increasingly severe abdominal pains that would kind of come and go, and I started throwing up. And I threw up some more. And even more. I must have barfed at least 6 or 7 times on the day we finally went to the hospital. I puked again on the car ride of the emergency room, but this time it was a little different. Instead of smelling like regular old vomit, it smelled more like fecal material. At this point, I was throwing up stuff so far down in my gut that it was in the process of turning from food into literal shit.

And so I was admitted yet again for another bowel obstruction. This time, I'd end up in the hospital for about a week before I finally went home. Once they get you stabilized, an admission for a bowel obstruction is pretty much you just sitting around asking for pain/nausea meds. Once you finally take a shit, they start advancing your diet beginning with liquids and moving up to more complex consistencies of food. Other than that, it's just a whole lot of sitting around your hospital room, so be sure to bring something to keep you occupied. The hospital is boring AF. But the bowel obstruction had totally destroyed my plans to take the boards in the fall. It looked like I was going to be a year behind, after all. Oh well.

The week before Thanksgiving of 2016, it was time for surgery 2.0. Remember, we'd left some disease during the first case so we knew there was stuff we had to go back and get. We were hoping that the second surgery would basically get everything out. But man I was scared shitless to go through the surgical process again. The first go-a-round didn't exactly go according to plan, as you've probably gathered at this point. One more bad hit to my kidneys and they're gone. They work okay right now, and they do their job, but only just. It wouldn't take much to push me over to permanent dialysis. And guess how excited they are to give a transplant kidney to a patient with known cancer (hint: they're not excited about that at all).

But, through what I can only assume is the grace of God, the second surgery was the most technically successful procedure we could have hoped for. They were able to get everything out that they could see. A bunch of areas looked "weird" (for lack of a better phrase) and so they biopsied a bunch of places, but pretty much all of it came back as treatment related change. And I got to keep my stomach, and I didn't have to have a colostomy or any other bowel diverting procedure. The recovery was a lot easier the second time around, since there were many fewer complications. The entire thing seemed to hurt a lot less, too.

But it's still really hard to eat after a big open abdominal surgery case, sometimes for months. I dropped down to a low of about 120 lbs which, for me, was pretty scary. I could make out all of the bones in my shoulders and ribs. I could see the individual muscles that constitute the quadriceps in my legs. My size 32" jeans literally slid right down my body. I had to by "sick clothes" just so it didn't look like I was wearing hand-me-downs from a guy 50 pounds heavier than me. It took me a good 10 months after that second surgery to get my weight back up to the 160s, and even now, if I don't pay attention and eat properly, I'll just start losing weight without noticing it. It sounds cool until you realize that that's how people with this disease die – they literally can't get enough food intake to meet their metabolic needs, so they get cachectic and waste away and die. So yeah, it's kinda fun being skinny without trying, and I can eat whatever I want pretty much, but there's definitely a darker side to that story.

So in March of 2017, I started back at work, officially, full time. I basically ended up sitting out an entire year of residency because of this, and now I'm going to graduate with the class that came behind my original one. My new class was just starting to study for the boards, too, so it was a perfect time to jump back in and try to get back up to speed. I felt like a complete moron for a couple of weeks when I first got back. Turns out that if you don't do anything related to your job for a year, your knowledge level will atrophy. Who knew?!

And so I was freaking terrified of failing the boards. More than one of my attendings specifically mentioned to me that it "would be totally understandable" if I failed the boards (or something to that sentiment). Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys! But they'd been looming over my head for what seemed like forever at this point, and I just wanted to finally be done with it. So I studied for the boards just about as hard as I've ever studied for anything in my life. I read multiple books, some multiple times. I did thousands and thousands of practice questions. I studied any free minute I had at work, and basically from the time I got home until it was time to go to bed, for 3 months in a row. It was brutal, and exhausting, but fear of failure is a powerful motivator.

I found out that I passed the board exam on the same day that we did my first post-op follow-up scan. The day started out pretty great – I passed my boards! Hooray! But the PET/CT news was much less good. They found a few new nodules in my mediastinum right next to the heart, and they were metabolically active. It was highly probable that it was cancer, but the only way to know for sure is to do a biopsy. So I went in for a third surgery in August 2017 and they took out all of the nodules they could see. I was hesitant to do another surgery, because most chest surgeries are a pretty big deal, but my surgeon decided to use the DaVinci robot and so I actually only have 3 tiny little scars on the left side of my chest where they placed the access ports for the robot.

And, unfortunately, we weren't surprised when those nodules all turned out to be metastatic disease. I went to go see med onc again, and we decided to go ahead and do systemic chemo. So I'll get carboplatin/pemetrexed/avastin every 3 weeks for four cycles, and then we'll do another scan and see if things are better, worse, or the same.

This is the part of cancer care where can get very tedious, and you start to lose options for therapy as you try things that work to varying degrees of success initially, and then stop working. I still have a couple conventional treatment regimens to fall back on if this one fails, but after that, it's time to start looking into experimental trials.

My current plan (if one can even have plans in such circumstances) is to try and kick the can down the road a few years at a time until immunotherapy has caught up with the solid tumors. It's already done wonders in certain types of cancer, and they have mouse models of mesothelioma where all of this stuff works, too. So in principle we've got some promising leads. But with medicine, the devil is always in the details and we need to get a lot more data and refine this process more and more until it's truly ready for game day. But, I really do believe that, in principle, we're about to start making enormous strides in extending the lives of cancer patients.

And so that's where I'm at, about 18 months after my initial diagnosis. The day I got diagnosed, 18 months was about all the time I thought I had left, too. So I'm already winning in that sense, and I'm very happy to be where I am. I think it's reasonable to hope that I could get a few years of progression-free disease control out of conventional treatment before we have to move on to most experimental things. Of course, no one knows if they're going to be the person to beat the odds, or not. The only thing I can continue to do is hope and pray that I turn out to be one of the lucky ones.

I think a lot of people might find this next sentence bizarre, but in many ways, this thing has been a simultaneous blessing and a curse. The negative aspects of it are obvious, and we could discuss those ad nauseaum. I think the positive aspects are the more interesting ones, though. This diagnosis forced me to really tackle some existential questions about life and the nature of existence, and after much reading and thinking, I've found a belief structure that works very well for me and provides a source of strength. I've had friends from ages ago, or even just simple acquaintances, who have gone so far above and beyond what they had to do that I can never repay them.

Before this, I had always labored under the assumption that I'd been merely passing through life, with no one taking any serious notice of me one way or the other, and that I wasn't really making any meaningful impression on people, at all. I felt like I was always just "there," like a wallflower at a party. Present, but un-involved. Even that couldn't have been farther from the truth. People who were my medical students when I was an intern got in touch with me, just to see how I was doing. The entire radiology department set up a gofundme page for us and raised a bunch of money to help with the medical bills. People made us food, so we didn't have to cook. People got us gift cards to restaurants so we could go out every once in a while.

My interpersonal relationships mean a great deal more to me now than they ever did before. One thing I've noticed during all of this is the degree to which people really genuinely care about each other. For some reason, we just never say it when things are going fine. It takes a horrible tragedy like this to bring that to the surface. Well, I've since decided that's dumb. I've started telling people how much they mean to me in my life. You should try it some time. It's pretty rewarding.

I want to finish my residency and go practice as an attending back home. I used to put my career first, above everything. I was going to do interventional radiology and live in a big city with an academic IR department and do all kinds of cool cases! And it still sounds fun, sure. But after something like this, you realize that no matter how cool your job is, it eventually becomes just your job. I mean, astronauts probably get up on some Mondays and are like, "damnit I have to go to work today." There are more important things in life than what you do.

My family all lives in this one little town in Louisiana, and it just so happens that a group in that area is looking for a general diagnostic radiologist, so it's a good fit. My wife and I are trying to start a family. I've always wanted to be a dad, mostly because I think I'd be pretty good at it, and I hope that I have that opportunity. I hope I have the opportunity to work as an attending for a while so I can actually help people, and not be "just the resident" on the case. I can completely relate to what patients go through now in a way that I never understood before.

For a series of reasons, after the boards were (finally) behind me, I ended up on a block of mammography rotations all in a row. By the time it's all said and done, I'll have done 5 months of breast radiology contiguously. It's secretly a really great field. We get to use a variety of imaging modalities: x-rays (the mammograms), ultrasound, and MRI, and we can do image guided biopsies under all of those things, too. There's also a lot of interaction with the technologists all throughout the day, so you're not just sitting in a room alone by yourself just reading cases all day (there's a reason most radiologists are weirdos).

I also like it because I get to meet patients on a regular basis, often 20+ a week. Sometimes, it's to tell someone that they need a biopsy. Sometimes it's to actually do the biopsy, or the other minor procedures we do. But I can empathize with the patients very deeply now, especially young people who get stricken with this terrible disease. Not that I think I was a huge jerk before or anything. But after something like this, you just kinda "get it." It's immensely rewarding to be an integral part of the process that ultimately saves people's lives.

I also realized the other day, that when I started listing out the reasons I like breast radiology, those are pretty much the same reasons I wanted to go into IR in the first place. I think most people would say breast radiology and IR are just about as far apart on the spectrum as it gets, but I think they're more similar than people give them credit for. It's interesting how when one door closes, another seems to open. I'm just happy to have a job I love where I get to help people on a daily basis.

As for me personally, to the extent that it's feasible, I want to keep traveling and diving and seeing as much of the world as I can, before I kick the bucket. I've come to believe quite strongly that the things which provide meaning to our lives are experiences and relationships with other people, and I want to foster both of those things.

Basically, I plan on continuing to do awesome things with the people who matter most in my life, until the day I literally can't get out of bed anymore.


Wed, 27 Sep 2017 0:00:00 EDT