Grabbing Life by the Balls: A Conversation on Cancer, Work, and Building Things That Last
(The conversation starts around the 28-minute mark.)
I recently joined Mallet & Michelle for a conversation that ended up covering a lot more than testicular cancer, even though that is where my story usually starts. What made this one different was how naturally it moved between personal history, work, leadership, and the experiences that quietly shape how we show up in the world.
My connection to testicular cancer is personal. When I was a high school senior, my dad was diagnosed. There was no long lead-up or time to process it emotionally. He found a lump, saw a doctor, and within days was in surgery. That summer, which was supposed to be about graduation and getting ready for college, turned into chemo appointments and hospital visits. Like a lot of families who go through cancer, we figured things out as we went. You do what needs to be done and worry about the rest later.
That experience stuck with me. It pulled me into nonprofit work long before I had any idea what a career was supposed to look like. It eventually led me to Stupid Cancer and later to the Testicular Cancer Foundation, where I have now been CEO for almost a decade. What I have learned over the years is that survivorship is not just about medicine. It is about timing, access, language, and whether someone feels comfortable enough to say something feels wrong before it is too late.
Testicular cancer has one of the highest cure rates of any cancer, especially when it is caught early. And yet embarrassment and lack of awareness still get in the way. At TCF, a lot of our work is about removing those barriers. We focus on education, early detection, and making sure newly diagnosed patients and their families can talk to someone who has been there before. The goal is simple. Catch it earlier. Reduce the intensity of treatment. Help people get back to their lives.
The conversation also went into leadership and work, especially how my nonprofit background influenced how I think about building companies. On the surface, a national cancer nonprofit and a premium private-office company could not be more different. In reality, they run on the same principles. Trust matters. Systems matter. People notice when things work and they notice even faster when they do not.
At Firmspace, that shows up in privacy, sound control, hospitality, and details most people do not consciously think about but absolutely feel. At TCF, it shows up in how quickly someone hears back after reaching out or how clearly they are guided through a confusing moment. Different missions, same operating mindset.
We also talked about writing and artificial intelligence and why I finally published The Accidental Nonprofiteer. I never set out to work in nonprofits, and I certainly was not trained for it. What I did have was early experience working in a pharmacy, learning how to deal with people who were scared, sick, or overwhelmed. That shaped how I approached leadership long before I had language for it.
AI did not write my book for me, but it helped me organize years of lived experience into something usable. Like any tool, it reflects the intent behind it. Used thoughtfully, it can help people who have something to say finally say it.
What I appreciated most about this conversation was how real it felt. We talked about cancer without turning it into a slogan. We talked about work without pretending there is a perfect formula. And we talked about leadership as something learned over time, usually through mistakes.
At the end of the day, whether it is a nonprofit, a company, or a single conversation, the work is the same. Show up. Pay attention. Build things that make life a little easier for the next person who comes along.
