About
I trained as a physician because I wanted to help people. That part hasn't changed.
Medical school taught me biology. Residency taught me systems. But the real education came from sitting with families — watching how a genetic diagnosis ripples through generations, relationships, and self-understanding.
Clinical genetics is humbling work. You're often dealing with uncertainty, incomplete information, and decisions that don't have clean answers. Over time, I learned to notice patterns in how that uncertainty moves — when it resolves, when it cascades, when it gets stuck.
Then I started noticing those same patterns elsewhere. In how hospitals function (or don't). In how technology projects fail. In how organizations make decisions under pressure.
"I don't think I'm special. I think I'm attentive in a way that doesn't always fit neatly into job descriptions."
A few years ago, I started working more seriously at the intersection of medicine and AI — not because I think AI is magic, but because I think it's a system that needs the same careful attention we give to any complex intervention.
The patterns are similar: potential benefits, potential harms, cascading effects, the importance of knowing when to pause. It turns out a geneticist's mindset is surprisingly useful here.
So now I split my time between clinical work, writing, and building frameworks for thinking about complex systems — especially ones involving human-AI collaboration.
I'm not trying to claim novelty or build a movement. I'm just trying to help, while being honest about what I notice.