Master Substack Notes.
Explode Your Growth.

I'm a medical doctor, but I had to leave the system to tell the truth.

Most of what you’re told about your health is incomplete or completely wrong.

You’re stuck in a system that profits from your symptoms, not your healing.

In my Substack, I write the truth I wasn’t allowed to say inside the system.

If you're exhausted, unwell, and unheard, say hi! 🙌

Things I’ve Learned From Being an ER Nurse

There really is a light in your eyes that goes out when you die. It is humbling to watch.

PCP makes people superhuman strong. Do not get kicked in the chest by someone on PCP.

An artery can shoot blood all the way across a room.

Playing practical jokes on the doctors makes the day go by faster.

Surgeons don’t have the ER sense of humor.

Propofol is one of the best drugs ever invented. Michael Jackson may disagree.

If you have trouble swallowing capsules, tilt your head forward, they float and will go down easier.

Do not drink and drive. Do not drink. Do not drive.

Intuition is a powerful thing. Use it.

People really do not realize when their hearts stop. If they are otherwise healthy and awake, they are incredibly surprised when I hit them in the chest, or shock them, and they yell “Ow! Hey! What’d you do THAT for?” (Well sir, your heart wasn’t beating right—you would have noticed that in a little bit).

Some people will not die until everyone shows up. Some will not die until everyone leaves the room.

Pain medicines do not take away all the pain; they make you not care that your leg is broken.

The general public does not understand the difference between a virus and a bacterium. Neither, unfortunately, do some medical practitioners.

The weirdest things fit in the weirdest places. Patient confidentiality prohibits specific examples. The excuses are all the same though (”I fell on it”).

People will accept suffering with an amazing amount of dignity and grace if they feel it is for a reason. Any reason.

If you tell a mother that her eighteen-year-old son is dead, you will remember her face and her name forever.

If you advocate for a mother to hold her seven-year-old child one more time, she will remember your face and your name forever.

I’m 52 years old, and my first book with Penguin Random House is coming out in a couple of weeks.

Here’s how I did it:

I believed in this idea so deeply and in the importance of it. I was seeing women come into my office every day saying the same thing I once felt: I’ve lost my voice in this relationship. I can’t speak up because my partner reacts, or shuts down, or gets defensive. I wanted to get this message into the world, but I had no clue how to do that.

So I started querying agents. Someone introduced me to a big agent. A total long shot. I put together a summary of the book and sent it to her. She wrote back and said, “Wow. I was blown away by this. I really relate to it.” But she couldn’t say yes because I didn’t have a platform.

And I was like, well, I’ll build one.

She said, “Keep in touch and let me know if you come up with ideas for how you would market this book as an unknown person.” So I started learning everything I could about building a platform. I hired someone to teach me social media. I started posting, even though it felt cringeworthy and uncomfortable and I had no idea what I was doing. I was consistent. even though it made me SO uncomfortable.

Then I started talking to other authors, gathering ideas, staying in touch with the agent. What about this? What about that? And finally she said, “You’re so persistent. And the mission of this book is really important so I’m going to say yes. I can’t promise I can get you a deal, but I’ll represent you.”

Then she said, “Now you’re going to have to write a hundred-plus page proposal. You can hire someone to do it, like a lot of nonfiction authors do, but that costs tens of thousands of dollars.”

So it was time to learn how to write a top-level nonfiction book proposal. And I did. It took months. I nearly pulled all my hair out. It was a completely different kind of writing. Business plan meets creative vision.

She sent it out to the top publishers, multiple imprints. A number said no. But we had a couple of bites. Then my book went to auction. And I ended up signing a six-figure deal with Penguin Random House.

Since then, I’ve done a TEDx talk on the topic of my book. I’ve launched a top 5% podcast and a relationship radio show. I’ve grown my social media to over 50,000 followers.

And it just goes to show:

If there’s a dream you’ve had that keeps knocking at the door, or one you buried because you thought it couldn’t happen, I want you to know something. It’s possible. At any age and any time.

Today I Didn't Die, So I Did This Instead

When I woke up, I checked the obituary section.

Didn't see my name.

Figured the universe was giving me another go at being a human.

Here’s what I did with my non-death today:

• Fed the dog before myself. He looked at me like I was a deity. Or a sucker. Possibly both.
• Bought a coffee for a stranger. It cost $4.75 and gave me a bigger boost than the coffee I got myself.
• Called someone I don’t talk to enough. They answered with “I was just thinking of you.” That’s either magic or math.
• Sat on a bench and watched a pigeon fight a croissant. Rooted for both.
• Pet a dog that wasn’t mine. Told him he was a good doggie.
• Laughed at a meme. Something with a frog.
• Called my 93-year-old mom. She said, “You’re calling more lately.” I said, “I like the sound of you.” I could hear her smile through the phone.
• At some point, the sun hit the side of a building in that particular way that makes you forget how much laundry you haven't done. That was nice.

And that was the day.

I didn’t achieve anything. I didn’t transform.

But I remembered I didn’t die.

And weirdly, that made everything feel a little more worth noticing.

Well, YOU out there reading this.

You’re still here.

You’re still alive.

Are you appreciating your non-death day today?

I’ve done something for the little guys.

I’ve created a Substack bookstore.

I want to help debut and quiet self-published authors get some visibility for their books and build a community that supports each other’s work.

Come and say hi. You might find your next favourite read.

You know what’s more daunting than writing a book?

Promoting it.

Books 📚 coffee ☕️ croissant 🥐 Substack 💻 Welcome Sunday morning in 🇦🇺

Why are there advertisements for medications I can't legally buy without a doctor’s approval?

Why do they waste our insurance money on those ads?

Is it a form of money laundering?

I called my dad on his 87th birthday this morning. I’m 64.

That sentence alone feels like a small miracle. My mother, 88, is making him creamed chicken on biscuits tonight—a favorite from decades ago. They’re still living independently. Still happy. Still here.

I don’t take any of this lightly. There’s something sacred in being able to say, at my age: I called both my parents this morning.

There was no emergency. Just celebration. And somehow, that makes it even more extraordinary.

Take the photo. Make the call. Write the memory down.

Because these ordinary days..

They are the special days.

Every chapter of my life started with the same question:

“Will I bet on myself again?”

At 25, I did—new husband, new country.

At 37, I did—new degree, new career.

At 57, I did—books, coaching, community.

At 64, I still am—dreaming of 100 books, teaching reinvention,

and showing others how to build authority through words.

Your story isn’t over.

Just turn the page.

Peace

This drawing is by Anja Rozen, a 13-year-old primary school student in Slovenia. She was chosen from 600,000 children around the world to create a piece of art to show what peace looks like.

She is the winner of the international Plakat Miru competition.

"My drawing represents the land that binds us and unites us."

"Humans are woven together. If someone gives up, others fall. We are all connected to our planet and to each other, but unfortunately we are little aware of it. We are woven together. Other people weave alongside me my own story; and I weave theirs," said the young designer.

Still trying to figure out what aging gracefully means?

My thoughts after 57 years….

• Don’t dwell on the past.
• Stop worrying what others think.
• Accept the inevitable changes that come.
• Remain curious about life.
• Pursue your passions.
• Embrace your authentic self.

Be present. Be kind.

The feeling of your first book sale is like nothing else.

I sell major infrastructure projects for my day job, but nothing compares to officially selling the first copy of my book and I havn’t even released it yet.

Thank you Kyla Corbin (similar name no connection) for giving it to her Dad Raymond, as a gift for Father’s Day.

Today I found out that my father, who lives in Hungary, 8000 kilometers away, checks the

weather in New York every single day, just to know what the sky looks like above me.

I think this is what makes Substack special:

Old men at diners who sit alone with coffee and a newspaper are not lonely.

They have achieved a level of peace you will spend the next 30 years chasing.

They've outlived their enemies, buried their grudges, and ordered the thing they actually want without checking the price.

That's the endgame. That's the win.

May I brag a bit? I am proud of me.

Four months ago, I weighed in at my primary doctor's office at 217.

At 6-feet 5-inches tall, that's an okay weight, even with a little extra insulation around the middle 😇

But today, at the same doctor's office, I stepped on the scale WITH MY SHOES ON and it stopped at 203.

I have been on no particular diet. But if I'm to guess, simple conscious eating is the solution.

Denmark just dropped its tax on books.

Sweden tried the same thing.

Result? Only people who already bought books bought more books.

Turns out cheaper books don’t create readers—they just make existing readers happier.

Makes you wonder what actually gets people reading.

My podcast studio: an old mic, jerry-rigged to my laptop with a too-short cord.

For years, I dreamed of podcasting—waiting for the perfect plan.

That perfectionism kept me silent.

This year I started with what I have. Episodes are messy, but they're out there.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m doing it anyway.

New Year's advice: Start before you're ready. You'll figure it out—as I am.

Today I'm 66. I like the sound of it.

Many people think of Medicare and retirement at this age. Not me. Fortunately.

I'm celebrating in Chicago, planning to walk two miles to explore the Art Institute. At 66, I still can. At 66, I still want to.

Someone posted yesterday that they joined Substack three months ago and made $14,000.

What they didn’t mention: the decade-long liner list they brought with them.

This is not a criticism of their success. It’s a criticism of presenting it as a beginner result.

If you’re new here and feeling behind because someone else’s numbers look nothing like yours, check what they’re not telling you.

Context is everything.

People rely on you not asking for it.