Sandy Martin

October 2020. The spreadsheet on my computer screen made no sense.

Two weeks earlier, I'd finished the technical build-out of a virtual celebrity meet and greet system. Then suddenly, I couldn't figure out how to run a report on the system I'd built.

I'd spent years building businesses, producing large events, and solving complicated problems. My mind had always been one of my greatest assets, so the sudden onset of brain fog was bewildering.

Something had changed, and the brain fog crept its way down my entire body with massive fatigue that I couldn't shake.

The next few months were expensive, exhausting, and full of questions.

A neurologist suggested that a bump on my head when I was 10 might “come back to haunt me” decades later. “Not a chance,” I thought.

I tried everything I could to boost my energy and my brain: supplements, diet, sauna, hyperbaric oxygen, microcurrent, lymphatic drainage, light therapy, and on and on. Over that first year, $97,000 went toward consultations, testing, and trial and error.

I just wanted my brain and body back.

An unexpected breakthrough came through a book in which Dave Asprey described his experience with mold exposure. As he talked about the changes he'd experienced in his health and cognitive abilities, parts of his story sounded remarkably familiar.

Getting tested for mold “mycotoxins” wasn't straightforward. I had to find a functional medicine doctor to administer the test. That took two weeks. Then, I had to wait a month for the appointment and another two weeks for the results. In that time, I studied up on the protocols.

Because conventional care doesn't recognize or train doctors on environmental exposures, my choice of doctors was limited. I went through two “functional medicine” doctors before deciding to manage my own care. I tell the whole story here: Watch my mold recovery story.

The experience left me with a question that continued to grow in importance: What if more people had opportunities to encounter useful information before spending thousands of dollars trying to find it?

After years of producing large comic conventions, bringing people together was familiar territory. The same experience-design skills could create opportunities for people to meet researchers, practitioners, and innovators in health and wellbeing.

That idea became Biohacker Expo.

Attendees could have conversations with the leaders developing new technologies, ask practitioners questions, compare perspectives, and hear directly from others who had explored different approaches to their health.

The next experience arrived while I was attending one of Dave Asprey's biohacking conferences.

My mom texted me from the hospital. She was having a stroke.

Mom is a firecracker. Independence matters to her, immensely.

Rehab presented a different picture. Staff strapped her into a wheelchair and moved her from place to place, even though she was capable of walking slowly with assistance. A physical therapist estimated that recovery might take two years.

Two years was difficult to imagine when the things Mom wanted to do were so immediate. She wanted to go home, prepare her meals, take care of her house, and walk her dog.

Once we got her home, we started her on 90-minute hyperbaric oxygen therapy sessions six times a week at VyFy Wellness in Louisville, Kentucky. Mom reported feeling more energy afterward, and with each visit she gained strength and balance.

Her progress was remarkable to witness.

By the end of the first week, she could manage the stairs. During the second week, she began preparing food and feeding her dog. In the third, she walked her dog a quarter mile on her own. By week four, her balance had improved considerably, with only a slight limp remaining.

One of the happiest moments came when she could carry a laundry basket downstairs. To someone else, doing laundry might seem unremarkable. To Mom, it meant taking care of her own home again.

On September 23, a photograph arrived from my uncle. He asked if I knew of anything that could heal an open wound, a marble-sized hole under his toe. He'd received a Swift treatment for a plantar wart that was expected to be painless and without worry. But there he was, in misery.

It wasn't easy to find, but I located a medical practice that could help me get purified amniotic fluid. Given his condition, my uncle needed the treatment at home, and I took it to him. He began with two 2 ml vials, using two drops twice a day, morning and night.

Two mornings later, three photographs arrived, along with a message explaining their sequence. The first showed his toe before treatment. The second showed the wound at the end of day two. The third showed it that morning.

“Discomfort is still there but wow, what an improvement so far,” he wrote.

“Brings me to tears,” came my reply.

“Myself as well, simply unbelievable.”

His excitement was unmistakable. After weeks of dealing with the wound, he was seeing changes that encouraged him.

Progress continued, though more slowly than during those first few days. By October 15, he thought the wound was filling in. He paused for a week before realizing he'd need more, so we got him another vial. A week later showed improvement, but not as fast as before, so I suggested he find a wound-care clinic.

Following two weeks of that care, he sent another photo showing that the opening had narrowed to a slit. He later described what happened next in his own words:

“They scraped the dead skin away so the body would think a new wound had occurred and then would start sending cells to help it start healing again. They gave me a type of blue cushion that has an antibiotic and other healing properties in it. The bandage has to be changed every 3 days. I discontinued this bandage and reverted back to the PAF when it arrived on Nov 11th. This is today's picture, and I haven't had pain for 2 days.”

These experiences changed the way I think about health information.

Researchers are exploring how our bodies function and age. Physicians and practitioners are developing and evaluating approaches to care. Entrepreneurs are creating technologies intended to help people understand and support their health.

People everywhere are looking for ways to sleep more comfortably, maintain their strength, think clearly, stay active, and enjoy their relationships.

The Longevity Leaders grows out of my desire to help people discover the knowledge, relationships, and resources that support a healthy and fulfilling life. As its founder and publisher, my role is to bring useful perspectives together and make them accessible.

A compelling story can introduce a question worth exploring. Good research helps us understand what is known. Qualified medical professionals help people evaluate what may be appropriate for their circumstances. Together, those resources support more informed choices.

Longevity interests me because it gives us more years to explore the world. More opportunities to learn, create, and share experiences with people we love. More freedom to participate in the activities that give our days meaning.

Every discovery creates an opportunity to shift what's possible.

Sandy Martin
Founder and Publisher