Health Hats, the Podcast

Danny van Leeuwen, Health Hats

Learning with people on the journey toward best health.

  1. 4d ago

    2-Minute Bitch Session in 14 Minutes

    Pathological optimism meets its cathartic downside. Listen to a 2-minute burst about what sucks in life as I ride my recumbent trike. It’s lame & heartfelt. Click here to view the printable newsletter. More readable than a transcript. Click here to view the verbatim transcript Summary Pathological optimism doesn’t mean things don’t suck. Sometimes you just need a 2-minute burst of complaining. I hate leaking misery in dribs and drabs. I let loose about my sax struggles, MS fatigue, too many pills, old-man prostate, and empty nesting. It’s ridiculous, it’s cathartic, and by the end, my annoyances are down a notch. Episode Proem: The Downside of Pathological Optimism Okay. Good morning. I’m riding my trike, and I’m feeling the need for a 2-minute bitch. I don’t know if I’ve talked to you before; I might have, about the 2-minute bitch. See, one downside of being pathologically optimistic is that it doesn’t mean things still don’t suck. So every once in a while, I just must have a 2-minute bitch. I don’t like it to— I don’t like my miserableness, or unhappiness, or whatever it is to, like, leak out in drips and drabs and— you know, I’d rather have a burst. Sourpuss Kick-off: I Suck at Music. I Quit. So, today—last night, I had a rehearsal. Oh my God. A rehearsal with the Latin band, Lechuga Fresca. Oh, man. You know, right now I’m— I was the only horn there, and I’m often the only horn. And I’m a Bari sax player, and I’m never the only horn. So this is a really new experience for me. Well, it’s not so new; it’s been going on for a year, so. But anyway, I’m— oh man, I just— I just don’t hear the music, or I’m not counting the 1, and I’m just, like, I feel like, you know, there’s like 3 percussionists— no, what were there? Today— yesterday— there was just— last night— there was just 2 percussionists, a keyboard player, and that was it. So it was not enough. Clearly not enough. But it’s stuff I’ve been working on. I’ve just been working on it, and I— I just can’t get it. I just don’t hear it. And then I sort of freeze up, and I— ugh, I just hate that. And I feel like I’m remedial, you know? Like, my band mates were— they’re really nice, and they work with me, and— I don’t know. But anyway, I just— I just have this feeling that I’m going to quit. I’m going to quit this band. This is too much. I’m also playing with a Dixieland band and rehearsing once a week. I still play an hour a day. An hour a day. And I’m just not— I don’t know— not getting better fast enough, I guess. Tired of Tired And I’m tired. I just hate being tired all the time. I wake up in the morning, and I’m exhausted. I hate that. I hate being exhausted. And then, yeah, I don’t sleep that well. I usually say, “Oh, good enough.” And it is good enough. I mean, I do what I do. But I want to have more energy. I don’t know. What would I do with more energy? Anyway, I’m just going to be miserable. Let’s see. What else can I be miserable about? I have cramps. I have cramps. Cramps in my calves. Cramps in my back. Cramps in my shoulders. It’s just annoying. It’s like stuff I’ve got to manage all the time. I don’t want to manage this stuff. I want to be 74 years old and not have pain. Ugh, that sounds ridiculous. Anyway, I’m bitching. Ugh. What else? Well, here I am, riding my trike. I had— oh, my legs really aren’t that strong. I wish they were stronger. And it’s actually my strong right leg that feels weak. I mean, it makes sense. You know? I got MS, but anyway, I’m bitching. And what have I done? Ridden the trike— what, so far? 6 times, maybe, this season. And I don’t feel like I’m getting stronger. I mean, I don’t have to be stronger. I got a lovely ICE trike. It’s a top-of-the-line trike. It’s got great gears. It’s very comfortable to ride. Old White Man with Old White Man Problems Wait a minute. I’m bitching. What else can I bitch about? I wish I wasn’t an old man with prostate issues. How do you like them apples? It’s just annoying. Annoying, annoying, annoying. Oh goodness. What else can I— I’m going to dig deep here. Find something else to bitch about. I don’t have anything else. Ugh. Oh, here. I got another one. I take too many pills. You know? I have to sit there for 20 minutes every Sunday and lay out my pills. What am I doing taking so many pills? Pills for my cholesterol. Pills for my MS. Pills for anemia. Pills for diabetes. Ugh. What have I gotten to? Pills, pills, pills. I might have just run out of steam on that. Let me ride a little longer and see if I can come up with something else to bitch about. Here, I can bitch about having to wait for a red light. How you like that? How you like that, huh? Oh, I didn’t have to wait. Oh well. That was a wasted bitch. Man, it’s a great temperature. Really nice. It’s cloudy, and it’ll probably rain. I could bitch about the rain, even though we need it. I like rain. It’s so much work to be at the top of my game. I want to be at the top of my game all the time. There. There’s another bitch. Man, this is really lame. My lame bitching. All right. I’ll turn it on again if I think of more. Round 2. Losing It All right. I’m a little farther along now, and I have a couple more things to bitch about. One is, I got back on the video because my wife just called to say that some very nice man stopped at the house on his electric bike, bringing my wallet, which I dropped on the bike path here. So, you know, I’m such an idiot. I— I know these pockets suck, and I don’t— I thought I had my wallet in this pocket that has a flap on it, but it’s not really, I guess, a flap that closes. So anyway. There. I’m bitching about being such an idiot, doing stupid things. Empty Nesting I have another thing I thought I had to bitch about. So my—my son, my daughter-in-law, and my grandson moved. They lived upstairs from us for 18 years. We had 18 years with them. And they needed to go. It was enough with the in-laws. But I really miss my son and my grandson. My grandson’s going to college. He’s such a sweetie. And he— he’s gone. And I feel it even more than when my— I guess, when my kids left. I don’t know. Simon, I was glad to see him go. He was just ready to be away from us. He hated me. And then when Ruben left, Mike was still there. When Mike left, that was hard. Really hard. I missed him. I still miss him. He died at 26, God. Anyway. But Leon. I miss Leon. I try to text him almost every day. I’m a pain in the ass, Opa. But he says it’s fine. He likes it. But anyway. There you go. Something else I can feel sorry for myself about. Cycling / Walking Community Pretty nice, isn’t it? Look at this beautiful here. I’m going so slow. It’s a little bit uphill. I think there’s a limit to how strong I can get. There. I got to bitch about that. If I already bitched about that, I don’t like to be repetitive. Anyway. It’s pretty lame. Good morning. (as I pass a cluster of people on the bike path talking). I like seeing people out here. Chatting and exercising. It’s nice being in a community. All right. I’m going to turn it off again. Anyway, I just listened to it. That was it. Reflection: Catharsis. Downgrading Annoyances It was cathartic. It was ridiculous. I hate complaining. Though, when I’m with other people who are gossiping, I gossip. When I’m— when I sour on a relationship or a job, I can be really negative. And when I’m sour or negative for more than a few minutes, I can feel it. All my annoyances escalate a step. It’s my scale. Not 1 to 10, but annoyances. I go from annoying to moderately annoying, to seriously annoying, to catastrophizing, to crippling. So. That was it. A little longer than 2 minutes, but you know, I packed it right in there. Anyway. Thanks for spending this time with me. Later. Please comment and ask questions: at the comment section at the bottom of the show notes on LinkedIn  via email YouTube channel  DM on Instagram, TikTok to @healthhats Substack Patreon Production Team Kayla Nelson: Web and Social Media Coach, Dissemination, Help Desk  Steve Heatherington: Help Desk and podcast production counseling Joey van Leeuwen, Drummer, Composer, and Arranger, provided the music for the intro, outro, proem, and reflection Claude, Perplexity, Auphonic, Descript, Grammarly, DaVinci Resolve, DaVinci AI Art Generator, OpenArt AI Creator Studio Inspired by and Grateful to: Peter Lehman, Jeff Harrington, Shel Schenkler Artificial Intelligence in Podcast Production Health Hats, the Podcast, utilizes AI tools for production tasks such as editing, transcription, and content suggestions. While AI assists with various aspects, including image creation, most AI suggestions are modified. All creative decisions remain my own, with AI sources referenced as usual. Questions are welcome. Creative Commons Licensing CC BY-NC-SA This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator. If you remix, adapt, or build upon the material, you must license the modified material under identical terms. CC BY-NC-SA includes the following elements:    BY: credit must be given to the creator.   NC: Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.    SA: Adaptations must be shared under the same terms. Please let me know. dannyhealthhats@gmail.com  Material on this site created by others is theirs, and use follows their guidelines. Disclaimer The views and opinions presented in this podcast and publication are solely my responsibility and do not necessarily represent the views of the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute®  (PCORI®), its Board of Governors, or Methodology Committee. Danny van Lee

  2. Aug 5

    I Love This So Much I Have to Do Less of It

    Less, more frequently. Keeping my glorious subscribers up to date on some changes. Click here to view the printable newsletter. More readable than a transcript. Summary 600 blog posts and 250 podcast episodes in. I’m making a change. Production runs 50-60 hours per episode — unsustainable, even though I love every minute. In this trike-ride solo episode, I share what’s pulling my time: co-founding Trust My Own Health (a new startup, weekly one-screen newsletter ), co-leading an endometriosis series with Phee, and playing more baritone sax. The plan going forward: shorter, more frequent Health Hats episodes — 15-minute check-ins instead of long-form deep dives. Recorded live on a trike at 6:30 am, because that’s how I do things. Episode Okay, hello. How you doing? I’m back on my trike. It’s like 65, supposed to be 90 today. Maybe it’s 6:30 in the morning. I’m wearing a long-sleeve shirt just ’cause it’s a little cool, but not too bad. Anyway, good to be out here with you. So let’s see, what am I thinking about? I’m thinking I’m gonna make a change to my podcast. I thought I would take a moment with my most avid longtime followers. Thank you very much. ‘Cause I’ve been overwhelmed by my long-form podcasting. It’s taking 50 to 60 hours to do an episode. It’s just ridiculous. Actually, I enjoy every minute, but it’s too many minutes. And so let me tell you why it’s too many minutes and what my plan is going forward. I’m co-founding a startup, Trust My Own Health. And I will include a link to that ’cause I would love for you all to learn about it and subscribe to yet another Danny thing, a weekly one-screen newsletter. But anyway, this is taking a lot of my time, and I’m really enjoying it. I feel like it’s actually a culmination of my whole career, my whole life in healthcare, and I really wanna put the time in it. We’re in the raising money stage. And I’m actually, for the first time, feeling like we can do this and we’re getting ready to do this, and I wanna put in the time. But I don’t wanna stop doing Health Hats, the podcast, ’cause I love it. So I’m thinking about doing more frequent, like 15-minute things like this, just talking to you about life and health and what’s going on. And then meanwhile, What’s also happening is that I’ve been working with Phee, who is a person. with some very serious endometriosis. And over the past couple of years, my awareness of endometriosis has grown. Phee uses the pronouns they and him. So Phee wants to tell their story, and it’s a great story. I suggested that they co-lead the series about it. We’ve met a few times on Zoom, and we’re in the process of inviting a couple of guests. I see this as a series that will come out when it comes out. But I think I’m gonna– I think we are gonna put it out in half-hour bursts, just to go with the getting used to shorter, more frequent bursts. And actually, I’m spending a lot more time playing music, which I love. So again, it’s squeezing the podcast time, hence the change. I’m delighted to hear what you think of that, and you all have been with me through thick and thin for a lot of years. So this is probably the 600th episode since I started the blog, and we’re at 250 for the podcast. So there you have it. We’ll see you later Please comment and ask questions: at the comment section at the bottom of the show notes on LinkedIn  via email YouTube channel  DM on Instagram, TikTok to @healthhats Substack Patreon Production Team Kayla Nelson: Web and Social Media Coach, Dissemination, Help Desk  Leon van Leeuwen: editing and site management Oscar van Leeuwen: video editing Julia Higgins: Digital marketing therapy Steve Heatherington: Help Desk and podcast production counseling Joey van Leeuwen, Drummer, Composer, and Arranger, provided the music for the intro, outro, proem, and reflection Claude, Perplexity, Auphonic, Descript, Grammarly, DaVinci Resolve, DaVinci AI Art Generator, OpenArt AI Creator Studio Inspired by and Grateful to: Steve Heatherington, Tania Marien, Heidi Frei, Jane Beddall, Matt Neil, Phee Marcial Artificial Intelligence in Podcast Production Health Hats, the Podcast, utilizes AI tools for production tasks such as editing, transcription, and content suggestions. While AI assists with various aspects, including image creation, most AI suggestions are modified. All creative decisions remain my own, with AI sources referenced as usual. Questions are welcome. Creative Commons Licensing CC BY-NC-SA This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator. If you remix, adapt, or build upon the material, you must license the modified material under identical terms. CC BY-NC-SA includes the following elements:    BY: credit must be given to the creator.   NC: Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.    SA: Adaptations must be shared under the same terms. Please let me know. dannyhealthhats@gmail.com  Material on this site created by others is theirs, and use follows their guidelines. Disclaimer The views and opinions presented in this podcast and publication are solely my responsibility and do not necessarily represent the views of the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute®  (PCORI®), its Board of Governors, or Methodology Committee. Danny van Leeuwen (Health Hats)

  3. Jul 19

    296 Pages of Data, Zero Bites of Information

    As a nurse with MS, I’m interviewed about AI’s real role in care: pattern recognition, human-in-the-loop skepticism, and the Three T’s and Two C’s framework. Click here to view the printable newsletter. More readable than a transcript. Click here for a verbatim transcript Summary I sit in the guest chair on Practical AI in Healthcare with Steve Labkoff. I walk through my experience feeding my own symptom logs, lab results, and ten years of clinician notes into an AI LLM: a physical therapy referral I needed and hadn’t scheduled, a medication side effect my neurologist later confirmed, and a rating scale buried in my chart that no one had surfaced. I describe the less impressive side: the four-pound box of unsorted paper my primary care practice mailed me and the 296 pages of unsearchable PDFs I got back from another system in fifteen minutes. Along the way, I lay out my framework for judging any digital health tool, the Three T’s and Two C’s: time, trust, talk, control, and connection, and explain why I insist on keeping humans in the loop even though the research on that is more complicated than people assume. This isn’t a pitch for AI in healthcare. It’s a working nurse and patient’s honest field report. What’s your experience been feeding your own health data into an AI LLM? Tell us in the comments. Episode Transcript Proem I usually ask the questions. This time I’m the guest. I met Drs. Steve Labkoff and Leon Rozenblit a couple of years ago at a DCI Network conference. They host Practical AI in Healthcare, a show I’ve listened to steadily, though it creates more tension for me than any other podcast I keep coming back to. Usually, I jettison podcasts that do that. I stay with this one because I approach AI in healthcare the way I approach best health; I’m an N of one and resist generalizing, while most guests do a fair amount of it. I bristle at most of them, wanting the shades of gray that reflect deep understanding. In four of 33 episodes, the guest has had lived experience: ePatient Dave DeBronkart, Amy Price, Hugo Campos, and me. I invited Steve and Leon to join my virtual Reckoning group, which I’ve hosted since 2019. We give podcasters warm critiques of selected episodes: the kind of feedback you give when you’ve made a hundred mistakes yourself, can spot them quickly in someone else’s cut, and have endless thoughts about production, audience, dissemination, and life. They took the critique well. When Steve later asked me to come on his show to talk about how I use AI, not the theory but the daily grind, I readily agreed. They let me publish it here unchanged, apart from this Proem and Reflection. I struggled to prepare for this conversation. I wanted to wear all my hats, but had to narrow my focus to two. I chose my lived experience and nurse hats. Underneath it all was the question I keep circling back to. Not a cure. Best health, the most function, and Hello, and welcome to this week’s edition of Practical AI in Healthcare. My name is Dr. Steven Lapcoff, and this week I’m actually on my own because my partner, Dr. Leon Rosenblatt, is actually on spring break with his kids, so I am covering for him and he’ll be back in the next week. This week we have a guest who we met at a conference in Boston a few months ago at the Beth Israel at the DCI network. Steven Labkoff: We have Danny van Leeuwen. Danny is a nurse. He has background in giving actual physical care to patients. He actually runs his own podcast called Health Hats, the Podcast, and he’s been using AI in both his personal life and in his professional life very extensively. Also, Danny has a significant medical condition, and I’ll let him explain that in the course of the discussion because it’s with that lens that we got introduced at our patient-centric AI conference, and that’s why we thought it’d be a good idea to have Danny come and have a chat with us. So welcome to the podcast, Danny. How are you today? Health Hats: I’m good. Thank you. Thanks for having me. I appreciate it. Steven Labkoff: So Danny, as you probably have heard because you’ve helped us with our podcast, and for that I want to say thank you. For those who are listening in, Danny runs actually a group that actually helps folks running podcasts improve their podcasts, and he’s had Leon and I on many times to listen to critiques and feedback, and it’s been very, very helpful. Danny, we often start our podcast with asking for folks’ origin stories, like how did they get their cape and their superhero tights. What did you do to get you to this point in your life? And just tell us the background of what brought you here. Health Hats: Oh, thanks. So I’m a child of Holocaust survivors, and my parents– when I was young, my parents were active in the civil rights and fair housing movement in the ’60s. And when I was 16 and I was thinking about the war in Vietnam and worried about getting drafted, I wanted to learn what I could learn about the draft and how I could protect myself and manage. And I went to a church in downtown Detroit, and I went for a session of draft counseling as, you know, a little precocious at 16, and I found it fascinating, and they found me fascinating, and they encouraged me to become a draft counselor. And so I, uh, I actually took their course and became a draft counselor, and what I learned is that you change systems from the inside, not the outside. And I learned how the sausage was made, and that, uh, really pointed me in a direction. The way I got into nursing is really because I didn’t want to cut my hair I had an opportunity for a job at one point, and I could have read water meters or become an aide at the Detroit Psychiatric Institute. And reading water meters paid more, but I didn’t wanna cut my hair, so I got the job as, as nurse’s aide. And while I was there, they introduced me to the idea of going to nursing school, which was amazing. Steven Labkoff: It was more– You got paid more to read meters, water meters, than you did- Health Hats: Yes. Steven Labkoff: That’s unbelievable. Life gives you some real interesting turns and twists, doesn’t it? Health Hats: It does. And I was really fortunate because my first jobs in nursing were in physical rehabilitation and home care. I just happened to be in a place where the Holyoke Visiting Nurses was dying to hire a guy, and I was a brand-new nurse, and they ended up hiring me. And so my first introduction to nursing was not in acute care. It was in home care, and actually, I was the first male public health nurse in Western Massachusetts in 1976. And really, what I learned there was that most healthcare does not occur in the medical system. It occurs outside the medical system. And so when I ended up getting into medical care, it was always so interesting to me that everybody there thought this is where, you know, health happened, which it doesn’t. So over the 20 years of working as a nurse, I’ve worked in, other than the rehab and home care, I’ve worked in the emergency department, I’ve worked in ICU, I worked in pediatrics, behavioral health. And after about 15, 20 years, I shifted from becoming a student of individual health to a student o- of organizational health. And what I mean by that is I got into performance improvement. I led a couple of electronic health record implementations. I had a couple of gigs in the C-suite. I did some consulting. Now, in 2009, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, and when I was diagnosed, I learned that I had had it for 25 years. And since my father died young, he died at 45 when I was 19 of his second heart attack, and so every time I would have some kind of episode, I would get a cardiac workup. And by the time the cardiac workup was done, you know, the episode was over, and this went on two, three, four times a year for a long time. And there was a pattern there, and nobody was connecting the dots for 25 years. That’s very important to me because the pattern of what was going on was in my records for 25 years, but nobody had synthesized it. Steven Labkoff: Yeah, they may have been biased, right? Because of your family history and having these episodes, you know, as a clinician, you get very biased by family history, and that can actually lead you down roads which may not be correct, and it sounds like that’s precisely what happened with you. Health Hats: So I’ve– I wanna bring in the caregiver role because I have been a caregiver for my grandmother, my mother, and a son in their end-of-life journeys. So I’ve been on many sides of very difficult decisions. As you said, that my shtick is health hats, and I’m health hats because I’m a patient, I’m a caregiver, I’m a nurse, I’m an advocate, I’m an informaticist, I’m a podcast host. I wear a lot of hats. And wearing many hats has gotten me a seat at many tables because they can check off boxes. When it was really different to be bringing patients o-on board, I was an easy choice. Uh, I was at the table for technical expert panels at CMS, at National Academy of Medicine, at AHRQ, National Quality Forum, PCORI, Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute. But really, I wasn’t really there in it for the seat itself. My goal was always to open seats for people who weren’t there yet Now let’s build the bridge, since this is a podcast about AI, let’s build that little bit of that bridge. So my first, like, serious experience with– Well, I don’t know about my first. I was involved in something that you probably are familiar with, which was the Blue Button Plus program, and my goal in that, I was there both as a patient and as somebody who was working with people with disabilities. I, I was VP of quality for an organization that supported about 40,000 people with disabilities. And my goal for that couple of years of weekly or every other week, I can’t remember

  4. Jun 14

    Alone in a Dark Hospital Room, She Asked Claude

    Using AI to track symptoms, weigh medication options, and advocate. Not a cure, a toolkit. An honest, careful path without handing over the wheel. Summary Health Hats reviewed Melissa Reynolds’ book on pregnancy in 2019, and they bonded over the fact that a man had blurbed it. Now she’s on to something new: she’s been figuring out how to use AI to manage a body that’s been hard to live in for two decades. The turning point came in a diagnostic unit, alone in the dark with no idea what would happen next. She opened Claude and asked what the odds were. The answer was enough to let her breathe. What follows is one of the more grounded conversations you’ll hear about patients and AI. She tracks her symptoms in a spreadsheet and asks AI to surface what she’s missing, which is how she learned that her fatigue flares two days before her gut does. She brings research to her GP, who welcomes it and smiles. She nods at the gastroenterologist, who warns her off “that ChatGPT thing.” She’s careful about the politics, careful about the safeguards, and clear that this is for driving your own care, not replacing your clinicians. Her advice for anyone curious is refreshingly un-hyped: know what state you’re in, get a buddy if you’re vulnerable, and tell the tool what you actually need. She calls it a powerful toy, used well. Click here to view the printable newsletter. More readable than a transcript. Contents Podcast episode on YouTube Episode Proem Melissa Reynolds and I bonded when she invited me to review her book on pregnancy, fibromyalgia, and chronic fatigue syndrome in 2019. That still makes us both laugh: a man had written one of the blurbs on the back cover. I thought it was a riot. Melissa thought it made perfect sense because the people who most need to understand what a pregnant body is going through are often the ones standing next to it, trying to help but not quite getting there. Although we follow each other and frequently comment on each other’s posts, our last real conversation was in 2020 about a yoga program she was starting. A few small things from that conversation are still part of my every-other-day stretching and balance routine. I’m drawn to Melissa because she accepts what is, including that hard-to-live-with body, and creates and shares tools for those of us with the same or different diagnoses but similar lived experiences. All for best health. Our friendship has grown virtually, so we can pick up where we left off. This time, I reached out to Melissa after seeing her posts about her exploration of AI. Alone in the dark with a question Health Hats: What lessons are you learning as you use AI? Melissa: It’s funny to say you use AI because it’s hard not to use it now. But I’ve started exploring how AI can support me on my health journey. For a while, I was using it for bits and pieces. Then this gut issue came up. I don’t know if you’ve seen much of the journey, but I suddenly developed severe gut issues. They sent me for stool tests, which I’d never done before, and the results came back abnormally, astronomically high, so they sent me to the hospital. Melissa: They ran all sorts of tests. They rushed me through a colonoscopy, and then I was sitting there on my own in the dark in this hospital room. It’s an ADU unit, so it’s for diagnostic purposes. It’s not a ward. There was no TV, hardly anyone around, and I was quite alone, with no idea what could happen next. Melissa: So, I went into Claude and explained what had happened, and I said I needed to know, statistically, what was likely going on. It talked me through what it could be. That was enough for me to relax and go, okay, that’s cool. Health Hats: Where does it stand now? Melissa: Until a week ago, it looked very likely it was going to be one of those irritable bowel diseases. But right now, we’re completely unclear. I’ve got more specialists to see. But I realized the applications, so I started researching. Deciding to use every tool Melissa: Look, I’ve been sick for 20 years. I’ve been mistreated more than I’ve been well treated, and I’ve lost half my life. A lot of the doctors I saw were, meh. In the last 10 years, I’ve improved my life dramatically, but what upsets me is that I’m still nowhere near normal. That means I was very sick, and most of the doctors I saw were like, meh, even though there were concrete things to treat. They were misdiagnosing me. They were not treating me. Melissa: So I thought I was going to use every tool I had available. I actually told Claude, “Okay, you know my history. We’ve been chatting for a while. Tell me how I can use what you can do better.” The fatigue was signaling two days early Melissa: I do a lot of data analysis in my part-time job, so I thought, let’s get serious about my data analysis. I moved my symptom tracking from a physical book to a spreadsheet. Then I created a prompt where I upload it once a month and say, “Here’s my data. Tell me what you’re noticing that I’m not.” It notices things I don’t. Health Hats: Like what? Melissa: It was the post-exertion malaise flares that I wasn’t quite understanding. Health Hats: Post-exertion malaise. That’s the blowback from overdoing it, the hallmark of ME/CFS and other energy-limiting conditions? Melissa: Yes. It also picked up that when I was having my gut flares, my fatigue would signal a couple of days beforehand. Every time I had a gut flare, my fatigue would worsen beforehand. So, it’s now pretty clear that whatever’s going on with my gut is systemic. It’s part of a larger situation, not just related to my gut. Melissa: The data analysis and the research have been so helpful. I say, do some deep research, and I want you to talk to me about this topic, and it does. But you have to be very clear about what you want it to do. There’s a lot to learn about prompting. It’s very nuanced. Smiling, nodding, and using it anyway Health Hats: How do the clinicians you’re partnering with respond? Are they curious or suspicious? There must be a range of responses. Melissa: It depends. My gastroenterologist keeps saying, “Oh, I hope you’re not using that,” and they always say ChatGPT when they mean AI. So I’m smiling and nodding, but obviously I was. My GP, though, is fantastic. She loves it when I bring her research. She’s engaged. If you’re comfortable with people googling, then AI is just the next step. It’s more efficient than googling. Melissa: And I never go to her and say, “I’ve self-diagnosed myself with this.” It’s more like, “I’ve done some research.” Here’s a practical example. The gastroenterologist suggested a medication, and I don’t feel comfortable taking it. Even though they downplay the interaction with another medication I’m on, I don’t feel comfortable with the overall risk, especially when you’re playing with heart rate and blood pressure. I have low blood pressure and heart rate issues. Melissa: The wonderful thing about AI, compared to what I can do on a hard day, is that it can pull things together. We were talking about this medicine, and it found an alternative, a lower-risk medicine that also supports this other thing. The one thing I don’t want is to end up on loads of medicines and not be sure what’s working. A doctor is surely happy to have me as an informed participant in my care, especially when chronic conditions require patient buy-in. Where the records actually live Health Hats: You’re in New Zealand. I always wonder how the culture and politics around medicine and these tools differ from those here, where it’s a bit of a free-for-all and the guardrails are thin. Melissa: We’re in a very different situation. For a start, we’re a public system, but it’s crumbling. You have the people reliant on it, the people failed by it, and the few who can afford private insurance, which mostly just means you see the same people without being gatekept. We’re very segregated. Each specialty focuses on a single organ. As far as I know, we have one multidisciplinary clinic for long COVID, and it’s in the South Island, so I have no access to it, even though my ME/CFS came on after a viral illness and I’d benefit from exactly that. Melissa: What we do have is one public record that’s stayed with me, and a recent change that allows patients to request any information an organization holds about them. That’s actually how a lot of things changed for me. I got access to my patient portal at 32, and that’s how I found out I’d been diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome. No one had told me. They’d just written it in there. Health Hats: As opposed to all the times you were misdiagnosed, with both false positives and false negatives. And pulling it all together is the trick. I have a four-pound box of paper from one office, 500 pages, and 291 pages of PDF from another for three months of visits, all out of order and wildly redundant. So much of it is wrong. You start to realize that, at best, it’s grade-D information, and what I put in my journals and spreadsheets is probably the most accurate, which a doctor would never agree to. Melissa: It’s the same here. The onus is still on the patient to gather it all and then use it. That’s a whole other thing, and it’s something I’ve always struggled with. A very powerful toy Health Hats: What words of wisdom do you have for people who are using these tools? Do you want to encourage them or caution them? Melissa: First, think about what state you’re in. If you’re a bit vulnerable, don’t feel confident with technology, or are unsure about any of it, then seek guidance. Have a buddy or a mentor to do it with. Melissa: If you’re like me, data-oriented and logical, deep research is great. But if you’re someone who needs minimal information and more would fry your nervous s

  5. May 11

    Nurses’ Week, Handel’s Messiah, Oldest Maternity Hospital!

    From a 10-bed lying-in hospital to Handel’s Messiah, the Rotunda Maternity Hospital has operated continuously for 281 years. A Nurses’ Week story. Summary Across the street from Danny’s Dublin hotel stood a large white institutional building with no signage. It turned out to be the Rotunda Hospital — the oldest continuously operating maternity hospital in the world, delivering babies in the same building since December 8th, 1757. Surgeon Bartholomew Mosse founded it after losing his wife and child in childbirth, trained as a midwife in Paris at a time when physicians were penalized for practicing midwifery, and returned to Dublin determined to build something that didn’t yet exist. The first version had 10 beds and delivered 190 babies in its first year, with one maternal death. Unable to raise money for a larger hospital — no one wanted to fund poor women’s care — Mosse attended the world premiere of Handel’s Messiah in Dublin in 1742 and was inspired. He turned the future hospital site into a pleasure garden with orchestras, dances, and theater to attract wealthy donors. He was later imprisoned for debt, escaped through a castle window in Wales, hid in the mountains for three weeks, and died exhausted and broke in 1759, less than two years after the new hospital opened. Sara E. Hampson, one of Florence Nightingale’s original nurses, became the hospital’s first female superintendent in 1891 — a thread that ties Nurses Week directly to this building, Danny almost walked past. Click here to view the printable newsletter. More readable than a transcript. Contents Podcast episode on YouTube Episode Proem: No Signage, No Appointment, No Problem Hello. Welcome to 2026 Nurses Week, May 6th through 12th. I’m very proud to be a nurse. I’ve been a nurse for 50 years. And my grandson’s going to nursing school next year. He’s graduating as a senior and will attend Loyola University in Chicago for its nursing program. I’m very proud. I want to tell you a story about one of the most significant things that happened during our trip to Ireland a couple of weeks ago. We were staying in the north-central city of Dublin, Ireland. Across the street, I saw a big white institutional facade with no signage. It looked like the side of the building. Next to it, on its right, was a dome with a more modern sign that read “Ambassador”. So, I went into the hotel and asked, “So what’s this building?” And they didn’t know. I looked it up, and it turned out to be the Rotunda Hospital. The Rotunda Hospital is the oldest freestanding maternity hospital in the world. Midwifery Was Scandalous. He Did It Anyway. Now let me see. I’ve got some notes here. The hospital was founded in 1745 by a man named Bartholomew Mosse, M-O-S-S-E. He was a certified surgeon. His wife and child died in childbirth. After this tragedy, he left Ireland to serve as a doctor with the British Army. While he was away, he received midwifery training at a hospital in Paris and obtained his midwifery license, which was unusual. In fact, fellows of the Royal College of Physicians were even penalized if they practiced midwifery. But Mosse wanted to change that. So, he built this small place, 10 beds, that… Let’s see, when did it open? I guess it opened in 1745. Mosse’s ambition was to build a dedicated maternity hospital in Dublin to provide medical care and shelter to the city’s penniless mothers. This came after he encountered unspeakable conditions during his practice, particularly in the aftermath of the 1739 famine. So he established this 10-bed hospital. It was in a small theater called the New Booth Theatre. It says here that it was the first lying-in hospital of its kind in the world. It had only 10 beds, but in its first year, 190 babies were born, and just one mother died. But obviously, they couldn’t meet demand with 10 beds. When No One Funds Poor Mothers, Try Dancing Mosse tried to raise money to build a larger hospital, but nobody really wanted to give money to poor women. So he happened to attend the world premiere of Handel’s Messiah on April 13, 1742. While he was there, he was inspired to raise money by entertaining the wealthy. Somebody sent me a picture of the Handel statue that’s in front of the theater where the premiere was, which I thought would be interesting. According to my research, on the evening of April 13th, 1742, Handel conducted the world premiere of his Messiah on Dublin’s Fishamble Street, and Mosse was present. Historians suggest that this moment crystallized Mosse’s idea of using high-society entertainment to fund a hospital for the poor. So Mosse turned the proposed hospital site into a pleasure garden with a live orchestra, theatrical performances, and dances in a coffee house, marrying philanthropy with frivolity to reach the wealthy. Debt, Daring Escape, Death Here’s a little interesting tidbit. Lotteries nearly destroyed Dr. Mosse. Before he was able to return to Ireland, he was arrested and charged with being 200 pounds in debt, and he’s thought to have been imprisoned in Beaumaris Castle in Anglesey, Wales. The story was that he managed to escape through a window and hid in the Welsh mountains for three weeks before reaching Ireland. He then vindicated himself by publishing his receipts and lottery accounts, whatever. But less than a year after the hospital opened, he was taken seriously ill, exhausted, heavily in debt, and petrified about the prospect of arrest and imprisonment. He died on February 16th, 1759. Fix the Air, Save the Babies. Then and Now. Around 1781, when the hospital was poorly ventilated and every sixth child died within nine days of birth, they realized the problem was poor ventilation. Ventilation was improved, and mortality dropped to 1 in 20 over the following five years. They’re also planning to celebrate their millionth birth in 2026. It’s just amazing. I met a saleswoman in a sweater store who asked where we went in Dublin. When I told her about the Rotunda Hospital, she said she had a difficult pregnancy and birth without insurance. She received care at the Rotunda Hospital, with her baby in neonatal intensive care for three weeks and herself as an inpatient for two weeks. Awesome care! So, when we were there, I, an old white guy in a wheelchair, motored into the Rotunda Hospital and stopped at the registration desk to ask if I could speak with someone. I had not made an appointment. I was leaving the next day. Very nice people. I tried to get hold of people in their library, research, and marketing, but they were busy, of course. Oldest? It’s Relative. I’m really impressed by the idea of being the world’s longest-operating specialist hospital. I was trying to get some perspective on that, so I looked up the oldest continuously operating hospitals, and here’s what I learned. I learned that in the United States, the oldest continuously operating hospital is Bellevue Hospital in New York City, which opened in 1736 as a six-bed infirmary.[1] So, it began as a haven for the indigent and is still a major public hospital on the East Side of Manhattan. It opened nine years before Mosse opened his first lying-in hospital. The other long-running hospital is the Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia[2], established in 1751 by Benjamin Franklin and Dr. Thomas Bond. It’s still operational as part of the University of Pennsylvania Health System. The oldest hospital is the Hôtel-Dieu in Paris[3], which officially opened in 650 AD, and that’s the hospital where Mosse became a midwife. There’s St. Bartholomew’s Hospital in London, founded in 1123[4]. And there’s the Hospital de Jesús Nazareno in Mexico City, opened in 1524. But really, the Rotunda is the oldest maternity-only specialist hospital, continuously operating in the world, which is a more specific and arguably more impressive claim than the general acute care hospitals Bellevue and Hôtel-Dieu, which have both moved buildings, changed missions, and been rebuilt. The Rotunda has been delivering babies in the same building since December 8th, 1757. That’s really something. Reflection: Nightingale Was Here Too So, let’s bring this back to Nurses Day and to Florence Nightingale. Interestingly, Sara E. Hampson was one of the original Nightingale nurses and the first lady superintendent of the Rotunda Hospital in 1891. So yay, nursing. Yay, history. I’m really looking forward to exploring more of this amazing hospital in Dublin. I wonder who was in charge all these years, and how it survived past Mosse and through those first decade or first few years? And then, how did the Rotunda Hospital survive war, famine, pandemics, and technological change? What research occurred there? Is there a diaspora of Rotunda alumni? Anyway, more to come. Thanks. Referenced in episode [1] By Harper’s Weekly – Harper’s Weekly, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6014479 [2] William Strickland (1788-1854) Engraver: Samuel Seymour (1796-1823), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons [3] I, Clio, CC BY-SA 3.0 , via Wikimedia Commons [4] See page for author, CC BY 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons Are you part of the Rotunda Hospital diaspora? Find me at dannyhealthhats@gmail.com. Tell me your version. Please comment and ask questions: at the comment section at the bottom of the show notes on LinkedIn  via email YouTube channel  DM on Instagram, TikTok to @healthhats Substack Patreon Production Team Kayla Nelson: Web and Social Media Coach, Dissemination, Help Desk  Leon van Leeuwen: editing and site management Oscar van Leeuwen: video editing Julia Higgins: Digit marketing therapy Steve Heatherington: Help Desk and podcast production counseling Joey van Leeuwen, Drummer, Composer, and Arranger, provided the music for the intro, outro, proem, and reflection Claude, Perplexity, Auphonic, Descript, Gramm

  6. Apr 18

    Participatory Governance: Right People Right Question

    Participatory governance in healthcare means asking the right people the right questions. Three stories where listening as leadership changed everything. Summary This episode is about listening as leadership — the gap between where knowledge lives and where decisions get made, and what it costs when we pretend that gap doesn’t exist. Three stories from my career as a nurse manager, quality director, and VP — three moments where participatory governance in healthcare produced the same result: a no to the status quo. Not a radical no. An obvious one. Obvious, that is, once someone finally asked the people living inside the system. Topics covered: Open visiting hours in the ICU — and what happened when staff pushed back Seven therapy visits, no prior authorization required — and what happened when the company was acquired A disability services resident on a board of directors — and the simple fix that improved every patient experience metric Why participatory governance is the fastest, cheapest diagnostic tool most health system leaders never use The honest difference between patient advisory boards and actually sharing power with patients What patient-centered care looks like when it moves beyond consultation into real shared decision making Click here to view the printable newsletter. More readable than a transcript. Contents Podcast episode on YouTube Episode Proem I’ve spent most of my career in institutions, hospitals, managed care companies, and disability services agencies. These are large, slow-moving systems with their own inertia, logic, and knack for designing processes that work best for billing, and not so well for those receiving or providing services. I should know. I’ve been inside these systems as a clinician, boss, consultant, caregiver, and patient. The boldest changes I was part of didn’t come from a consultant’s report. They didn’t come from a board retreat or a leaders’ strategic planning day off-site — though, Lord knows, I’ve sat through plenty of those. They came from the moment when someone, usually someone with very little institutional power, said: This doesn’t work. It’s hurting us. The hardest part wasn’t hearing that. The hardest part was finding the gumption to act. Institutions are good at explaining why things are the way they are. They have binders of policies for that. My secret as a consultant was embarrassingly simple: the people who hired me already had the answers they needed. The nurse who’d been there fifteen years knew. The member who couldn’t get her calls returned knew. I sought them out, listened, and translated their words into a PowerPoint that the boardroom could hear. I want to tell you about three times I got it right. Three moments when the change that mattered was a no. No to visiting hours that kept families from the people they loved. No to a prior authorization process that treated patients and clinicians like suspects and required an army to administer that suspicion. No to a system that let care aides disappear from people’s lives without warning or goodbye, as if the people whose lives they were in didn’t deserve a heads-up. None of these nos were mine originally. I heard them from a family pacing a waiting room, from a member who couldn’t get the help she needed, and from a man with a disability who sat on our board and told us, plainly, what it felt like to wake up one day to find that someone essential to his life was simply gone. Participatory governance sounds like it belongs in a policy manual, right between stakeholder alignment and learning organization. When participatory governance works, it’s permission. Permission for the people living and working within a system to tell the truth about it. And the willingness, on the part of whoever’s in charge, to let that truth land. Even when it’s inconvenient. Especially then. Part 1: ICU Doors Open My first experience as a boss was as an ICU nurse manager, a job I got, I should mention, without ever having worked in an ICU or having been a boss. A story for another day. The honeymoon was short. Strictly prescribed visiting hours, ninety minutes in the morning, ninety in the evening, were leaving families miserable. I could see it. They could feel it. In collaboration with my bosses, the ICU medical director, and the chief nurse, I eliminated visiting-hour limits entirely. My staff, who had recruited me for the role, now deeply regretted it. I hadn’t consulted them or thought through the workflow implications. They were furious, and they weren’t wrong to be. But we kept the visiting hours open. Over time, something shifted. I learned how to be a boss. Nurses learned to include families in care and treatment. Patients and families arrived home better prepared. Physicians, for their part, didn’t much care either way. The lesson I learned: this was a story about control. Mine, the nurses’, and ultimately the families’. We eventually set up an informal patient and family advisory group, not because I had planned to, but because we needed them in the room. Part 2: Seven Visits, No Questions Asked My job title was Director of Quality at a behavioral health managed care company. If you’ve spent any time in managed care, you know what that means: Director of Trying to Get an A+ in Every Measure, Whether It Has Meaning or Not. Prior authorization was the centerpiece. A member needs therapy. Their provider submits a request. Someone on our end reviews it, approves or denies it, requests more information, waits, and follows up. The member waits. The provider waits. And somewhere in all that waiting, the person who needed help either got it, gave up, or got worse. I inherited this process. I did not invent it. My boss and I set up an advisory group with members on one side and providers on the other. We asked about their experiences with our company. They were not subtle. Members said the pre-auth process made them feel they had to prove they deserved care. Providers said the company’s default assumption was that they were lying. Neither response was a ringing endorsement. So, we experimented: seven visits, upon request. No authorization required. If a member or their provider asks, they get them. No forms, no review, no waiting. The result: outcomes held. Members received care faster. Providers stopped spending half their administrative time on the phone with us. And our call center, the engine room of the prior authorization machine, grew quieter. Then quieter still. A substantial portion of our staff spent all day managing a process that, in large part, was designed to manage itself. Strip it out, and you didn’t need nearly as many people to run it. The bureaucracy wasn’t protecting anyone. It was the cost. We had real data. Member satisfaction trended up. Providers, for the first time in recent memory, said something positive about the company. The advisory group had surfaced a truth that no quality metric had found, because no quality metric had asked the right people the right question. Then the company was acquired. New owners, new priorities, no appetite for any of this. The program was terminated, and the advisory group disbanded. I can only assume the prior authorization process resumed its proud tradition of making everyone miserable in the name of oversight. I learned that participatory governance surfaces the truth faster than most quality improvement methodologies I’ve encountered. But institutions don’t always want the truth. Sometimes they want the process. The process is familiar. It distributes responsibility. It means nobody has to decide. The advisory group uncovered a truth. It turned out that the people who bought the company got a veto. Part 3: The Right to Say Goodbye There’s a particular kind of organizational meeting where everyone knows something is wrong, the data is right there on the slides, and somehow the conversation goes nowhere. Lots of nodding. Lots of concern. Lots of commitment to further analysis. I worked as VP of Quality at an organization supporting forty thousand people with disabilities, many of them living in group homes, relying on personal care aides for the most intimate parts of daily life. Getting dressed. Eating. Toileting. Moving through the world. At my first Board meeting, we reviewed satisfaction survey results, which were poor. They were not nuanced, requiring careful interpretation. They told us something was bad. And we were doing what organizations do: analyzing, discussing, and scheduling follow-up meetings to review the analysis. We were not asking the people who lived there. The agency was committed to resident/patient participation in governance committees, including the Board; in this case, a resident of one of our group homes served on the Board. Not as a symbol. As a Board member. At one of these meetings, in the middle of what was shaping up to be another productive session of collective concern, he said something that stopped the room. He said: People leave without warning. A personal care aide, someone who helps you start each day, who knows how you take your coffee, which jokes make you laugh, and how you like your blanket folded, is just gone one morning. No notice. No goodbye. Someone new shows up, and you’re expected to adjust. He said it plainly, not as an accusation but as a fact. He apparently assumed, incorrectly, that we already knew. We didn’t. Or rather, someone knew. The people living in the homes knew. The aides probably knew. It just hadn’t made it into the meeting room until he put it there. The fix was insultingly simple. When an aide left, for any reason, residents would be told in advance. A chance to say goodbye. A proper introduction to whoever came next, rather than a key, an address, and good luck. That was the intervention. Advance notice, a goodbye, a hello — the basic courtesies w

  7. Mar 1

    Crutches, Caves, and Currents: Tubing in Belize

    Health Hats walks & floats through ancient Maya caves in Belize with forearm crutches, teamwork, trust, and shared decision-making every step of the way. Watch this episode on YouTube. Audio is published, but not the same Podcast episode on YouTube Summary What does it take to go cave tubing in Belize when you use forearm crutches and have no electric wheelchair? For Danny van Leeuwen, it takes the 3 T’s: Time (a half-mile walk), Trust (in guides and companions), and Talk (real-time decisions about stairs vs. river crossings). HHP245 is a first-person GoPro video of Danny floating through the sacred Caves Branch River — ancient Maya ceremonial grounds — with his wife and friend Linda. It’s part adventure, part health advocacy, and part proof that with the right team, you can push your capabilities further than you thought. Click here to view the printable newsletter with images. More readable than a transcript. Contents Please comment and ask questions: at the comment section at the bottom of the show notes on LinkedIn  via email YouTube channel  DM on Instagram, TikTok to @healthhats Substack Patreon Production Team Kayla Nelson: Web and Social Media Coach, Dissemination, Help Desk  Leon van Leeuwen: editing and site management Oscar van Leeuwen: video editing Julia Higgins: Digit marketing therapy Steve Heatherington: Help Desk and podcast production counseling Joey van Leeuwen, Drummer, Composer, and Arranger, provided the music for the intro, outro, proem, and reflection Claude, Perplexity, Auphonic, Descript, Grammarly, DaVinci   Inspired by and Grateful to: Mike and Linda DeRosa, Ann Boland, Ruben, David, and all our guides and helpers Photo Credits for Videos All by Danny van Leeuwen using GoPro10  Referenced in episode Nohoch Che’en Caves, Branch Archeological Reserve, Episode Proem I delight in pushing the boundaries of my capabilities. In Belize, floating in a tube through caves and snorkeling stretched me. How can tubing stretch anything? It’s passive floating. The event included a mile-long walk to the cave entrance – relatively flat with some steps and wading across the river, a mere six-inches deep. No electric wheelchair, just my forearm crutches. Our guide and my compatriots shared in the decision-making and assisted me. This video episode was taken with a GoPro camera hanging around my neck. Watch the video. Reading will not give you the flavor. Narrative Let me tell you a little bit about where we are what you’ll see. Excuse me, as I will be certainly butchering some of the names of stuff. So where we are is Nohoch Che’en Caves, Branch Archeological Reserve, also called the Caves Branch River. It’s in the Cayo District, and districts are like provinces or states. It’s by far the most famous cave tubing destination in Belize and one of the most unique in the world. So this was sacred to the ancient Maya. They were considered portal to Xibalba, the Maya underworld. This wasn’t just mythology. The Maya actively used these caves for religious rituals and ceremonies, particularly during times of drought when they needed to communicate with the rain God, chaac. I don’t know. Archeologists have found ceramic offerings, jade artifacts and human remains inside; evidence of sacrificial rights dating back over 2000 years. The caves were largely forgotten after the Maya civilization declined and weren’t widely known to the outside world until the 1980s and nineties when the Belizean guides and explorers began documenting them and it became a active tourist destination in the early two thousands. So the Caves Branch River flows through a network of limestone caves carved out over millions of years. The system I floated on. Is part of a much larger Karst landscape riddled with interconnected caves. Some of them still unexplored. Pretty amazing, huh? Reflection That was it. Fifteen minutes of about an hour total time and 30 minutes of recording. I hope it gives you a flavor of what we did. It was awesome. I will be producing a couple more videos from Belize over the next few months. The next video will be of the Mayan ruins, then making tortillas and tamales, and then, we’ll see. Related episodes from Health Hats https://health-hats.com/pod223/ https://health-hats.com/pod191/ https://health-hats.com/pod164/ Artificial Intelligence in Podcast Production Health Hats, the Podcast, utilizes AI tools for production tasks such as editing, transcription, and content suggestions. While AI assists with various aspects, including image creation, most AI suggestions are modified. All creative decisions remain my own, with AI sources referenced as usual. Questions are welcome. Creative Commons Licensing CC BY-NC-SA This license enables reusers to distribute, remix, adapt, and build upon the material in any medium or format for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator. If you remix, adapt, or build upon the material, you must license the modified material under identical terms. CC BY-NC-SA includes the following elements:    BY: credit must be given to the creator.   NC: Only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.    SA: Adaptations must be shared under the same terms. Please let me know. danny@health-hats.com. Material on this site created by others is theirs, and use follows their guidelines. Disclaimer The views and opinions presented in this podcast and publication are solely my responsibility and do not necessarily represent the views of the Patient-Centered Outcomes Research Institute®  (PCORI®), its Board of Governors, or Methodology Committee. Danny van Leeuwen (Health Hats)

  8. Feb 8

    If You Have a Body, You’re an Athlete: Training for MS

    Former Nike exec Mark Hochgesang interviews Danny on Heavy Hitter Sports Podcast about MS & being an adaptive athlete. Just back from Belize! Training works. Summary My friend Mark Hochgesang, former Nike exec and host of Heavy Hitter Sports, recently interviewed me. While I usually wear my life on my sleeve on Health Hats, this conversation revealed something different—how I think about myself as an adaptive athlete. Phil Knight’s mantra: “If you have a body, you’re an athlete.” I never thought of it that way until Mark helped me see it. Training to travel? That’s athletic training. Loading a 60-pound wheelchair into an SUV? Strength work. Walking 3,500 steps a day with MS? Competition with myself. Here’s what we covered: 🧠 The Swiss cheese brain scan – My MS diagnosis story (turns out I’d had it for 25 years) 🎷 The baritone saxophone – My neurologist’s #1 prescription for MS. Music creates new neural pathways. 🚶 The 3,500-step goal – Why movement is non-negotiable, even with foot drop and proprioception issues 💪 The “every other day” rule – Setting yourself up for success (stretching, balance, upper body work, squats) 😤 The two-minute bitch – No “happy horseshit” allowed. Life with MS sucks sometimes. Two minutes to vent, then move forward. 🌍 Training to travel – From 70 miles of Camino de Santiago to just returning from Belize (videos coming!) 👨‍👩‍👦 The team – Wife (OT), sons, grandkids (my scouts!), medical team, massage therapists, the Cuban van driver who didn’t speak English 🎯 The win – People understanding that disability takes many forms and asking “How can I help you?” instead of aggressively helping 💡 The legacy – Being remembered as “the cool Opa” The biggest lesson? Build a team. You can’t do this shit alone. Click here to view the printable newsletter with images. More readable than a transcript. Contents Please comment and ask questions: at the comment section at the bottom of the show notes on LinkedIn  via email YouTube channel  DM on Instagram, TikTok to @healthhats Substack Patreon Production Team Kayla Nelson: Web and Social Media Coach, Dissemination, Help Desk  Leon van Leeuwen: editing and site management Oscar van Leeuwen: video editing Julia Higgins: Digit marketing therapy Steve Heatherington: Help Desk and podcast production counseling Joey van Leeuwen, Drummer, Composer, and Arranger, provided the music for the intro, outro, proem, and reflection Claude, Perplexity, Auphonic, Descript, Grammarly, DaVinci Inspired by and Grateful to: my entire team Photo Credits for Videos Featured Image by Mark Hochgesang Referenced in episode Heavy Hitter Sports Episode Proem Mark Hochgesang, a former Nike exec and my podcasting buddy, recently hosted me on his podcast, Heavy Hitter Sports. You all know I wear my life on my sleeve and take any opportunity to talk about myself. I’m sharing this episode of Mark’s because it reveals a different story of my abilities and self-image, which I now tell through my collaboration with Mark and his deep understanding of sports. Redefining Athletic Performance Mark: Welcome to Season 4 of Heavy Hitter Sports, where we talk to inspirational figures in the world of sports. Athletes come in many shapes and sizes, and not all heroes perform on a big stage. Today’s episode is a bit different and one that I’ve long been looking forward to. It’s focused on how we adapt to unplanned life changes and adversity, then train, compete, and battle to win on our own terms. My guest is a good friend and fellow podcaster, Danny van Leeuwen. Danny is a former nurse, healthcare executive, musician, traveler, and a man who has lived with multiple sclerosis for many years. This is not a tale about limitations or illness. It’s a story about focus, fortitude, optimism, preparation, and team-building to live an amazing life. Danny’s story as an adaptive athlete challenges us to rethink what strength, toughness, and success look like. If you care about maintaining optimal health, sharpening your mindset, and winning the long game, this is the episode for you. Danny, welcome, my good friend. I’m looking forward to catching up and talking to you about some of the challenges that have been thrown your direction in life. And I’d like to open by getting your thoughts on this Nike mantra first uttered by Phil Knight, who said, “If you have a body, you’re an athlete”. Your thoughts on that sentiment? Danny: I never really thought about that until I met you, listened to your podcast, and delved into them. And it made me think about when I was getting ready to travel. When I put it in the frame that I was training to travel somewhere, then I started thinking, oh, that’s what Mark is talking about. Then it made me think. So never before. That was like the first time. I like it. I really like it, actually. It’s empowering. Nerd to Athlete Mark: Now, as a child, when you were growing up, you probably spent more time in libraries than you did on ball fields, correct? Danny: I did. I was a total nerd. I had two left feet. I remember the day I learned to skip. I just thought it was one of the coolest moments of my life. Oh, I can do this. It’s interesting. No matter how old we are, Mark: We can always remember skipping. But at some point in our lives, we skip for the last time, and we never know when that’s going to be. And then you can never get it back. Yes. You recently said something I absolutely love: you like feeling like an athlete. What does being an athlete mean to you today? Danny: What it means is my goal is optimal functioning. And when I say functioning, it means physical, mental, and spiritual. Like most people, I have things beyond my control, like my genetics, my situation, and my culture. And when I look at an athlete, and I think, oh my goodness, what did they do that they’re at a peak for performance, whether it involves a ball or whether it involves something else? It’s amazing, and it’s empowering. Now, there’s a downside. When I look at athletes, I also think they’re pushing their limit. And every game, you see somebody who’s past their limit, and they have an injury. And so for me, I think of it a little differently in that I don’t want to have the injury. Like for me, the biggest danger is falling. And so I want to fall as infrequently as possible. I don’t want to hurt myself. So that might be a little bit different than an athlete. Coaching Mark: That’s interesting because when we were together a couple months back, when you were in Portland here for a conference, and I took you to the Blazers game, they were playing the Warriors and Steph Curry. Now, Steph, although he started in college as injury-prone, has had a really injury-free pro career. And that’s been all the difference for him. But I think every top-flight athlete fears the moment where it ends because an Achilles rips, a hamstring, whatever the injury might be, it’s ever-present. You can’t be thinking about it 100% of the time, or hopefully at all. There are those moments where a career ends. Danny: The frame of being an athlete is very empowering. It feels like it gives me agency, control. I can train. I can modify. I can be coached. My wife’s an OT, an occupational therapist, and she is always thinking about being sure there are no throw rugs in the house. She put bars up in the bathroom. You get people who help you, coach you, and help modify stuff. Competing Mark: Your comments also make me think athletes are always competing. And as a man with multiple sclerosis, you’re always competing too in your own way. How does that competitive fire show up daily for you? Danny: That’s a good question. I am both like so not competitive, but I’m very competitive with myself. Like, why can’t I go on that trail? Okay, now what is it going to take for me to go in my wheelchair on that trail? Okay, I got my wheelchair and my crutches. Okay, I can go this far with the chair, then get out of it, and go up those steps or across that bridge with all these gaps in the boards. Mark: That makes me think, too, that athletes, to be truly confident, have to prepare to the best of their ability. And that’s what you’re talking about, right? Calculated Risks Danny: Yeah, I believe in calculated risks, but they’re calculated. I’m still not going to go across the street in my chair without looking both ways. And I can see that, with the people I’m with, their comfort with my sense of risk really varies over time. My wife would just be freaking out over some of the stuff I do. And I have to manage that too. Mark: So let’s flashback in time to 2009 and the moment when you’re first diagnosed with MS. Can you talk about that moment when you get your call from the primary physician and then later the neurologist? What went through your mind at that moment? Diagnosis – Finally Danny: I had been feeling that something was wrong. We had just moved to Boston, and I was working at Boston Children’s. I had found a really good primary care physician. I kept saying to her, “Something is wrong.” She took me seriously and sent me to different specialists. Mostly, they just said, “Nah, nah, nah.” Finally, she said, “Oh, screw it. Let’s just get a brain scan.” She ordered the brain scan, not the neurologists or the whatever specialists. It was obvious that I had it. So she called and said, “OK, I need you to sit down.” I had this office that was like a closet with four people in it. There was no privacy. But we were right by a garden. So I went out in the garden and sat on a bench. She said, “OK, here’s what I found.” At first, I was so relieved. Like, it’s a diagnosis. It made sense. And then I’m a sort of delayed-reaction kind of person with bad news. And then

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