I was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. Surgery scheduled for December 31st—literally the last day of 2020.
Fitting end to a difficult year.
I’m not going to use this space for medical details or false optimism. Instead, I want to think about what this means for how I approach my remaining work.
Mortality as Constraint
Knowing your time might be finite changes the optimization problem.
Before: maximize long-term impact Now: maximize impact given uncertainty about time remaining
This isn’t just theoretical. It changes:
- Which projects I start
- How I document my work
- What I choose to publish vs. keep private
- How much I care about legacy vs. immediate utility
The Archive Question
I find myself thinking more about archival durability:
- Will my code still run in 10 years?
- Have I documented my reasoning, not just my results?
- Are my repositories structured for someone else to continue?
- Have I made it clear why I built these things?
This isn’t morbid—it’s practical engineering for uncertain futures.
What Matters Now
Cancer clarifies priorities. Here’s what I’m focusing on:
Finish meaningful work: Complete projects that contribute something real, not just add lines to my CV
Document obsessively: Write as if I won’t be here to explain
Open source everything: Make my work reproducible and continuable
Reduce suffering: Build tools that might help others, even slightly
Think clearly about hard problems: Use whatever time I have to engage with difficult questions honestly
The Paradox
Weirdly, cancer has made me more productive. Not because I’m racing against time, but because it’s clarified what’s worth racing toward.
I care less about publications for their own sake. I care more about whether my work will remain legible and useful after I’m gone.
Continuing On
I’m still pursuing my mathematics degree. Still building open source tools. Still writing.
The diagnosis doesn’t change the work—it changes the framing.
Every project is now: “If this is my last contribution to this domain, is it worth the time?”
Most things fail that test. A few pass.
This isn’t the end. But it’s a reminder that there will be one. That changes everything.
Discussion