You are some of the bravest people on this planet. Every day you wake up and push forward through fear, pain, exhaustion, and uncertainty… yet you still keep going. Your strength is seen. Your courage is felt. Your fight inspires more people than you’ll ever know. Whether you’re in treatment, recovering, supporting a loved one, or carrying the memory of someone you’ve lost — I want you to know this: I’m praying for you. For peace, for comfort, for strength, and for a light that carries you through the hardest days. You are not alone. You are loved. And your fight matters. -Dr.Chris 🕊💛

I’d like to share a story from my new hero, who sent me an email today. He’s my new hero because he indirectly helped me stabilize my prostate MRI scan and improve my prostate symptoms, thus renewing my hope. I hope this story can be a source of inspiration for you all. Happy reading *The Electric Language of Life* (An essay in four movements) What cells know that our textbooks still refuse to say. Dr. h.c. Andreas Ludwig Kalcker November 29, 2025 In 2012, a senior oncologist in Madrid (I will call him Miguel) diagnosed his closest friend since university, Luis, with locally advanced pancreatic adenocarcinoma. The tumor had already wrapped itself around the superior mesenteric vessels. No surgical option. The guidelines were clear: palliative chemotherapy might buy a few extra weeks of nausea and fatigue, nothing more. Miguel sat Luis down in his office after hours, closed the door, and did something most oncologists never allow themselves to do. He spoke the truth. “Luis, the statistics are brutal. Even with treatment you have three to six months, probably less. Chemo will make you feel like death while only postponing it by days. If it were me, I would skip it.” Luis listened, pale but strangely calm. He asked only one question: “So I can do what I want with the time I have left?” Miguel nodded. Two weeks later Luis flew to Bali with a one-way ticket, leaving behind a stunned family; he refused to participate. He had always wanted to see the coral reefs before he died. He rented a small losmen on the coast near Amed,, and started diving every single day—sometimes three or four dives. The salt water, the weightlessness, the pure oxygen-enriched air from the tanks, the sun on his skin. He started to feel alive in a way he had never felt in his job translating contracts in a grey Madrid office. One of the divemasters noticed how quickly Luis moved through the water and asked where he had learned. They offered him a job teaching German tourists. He accepted. He never went back.

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