Hereditary Hemochromatosis is a genetic blood disorder that prevents the body from eliminating dietary iron. It is a rare and silent killer, most prevalent in populations with Northern Europe and Irish heritage. Unless tested for the genetic markers or for overall iron levels, people with Hereditary Hemochromatosis can live with increasing iron (or ferritin) levels for decades, never knowing that each hamburger, each spinach salad, each pint of Guinness is adding dynamite to trillions of tiny time bombs ticking through the blood.

In February 2015, I was experiencing rapidly accelerating fatigue, so I went to see my doctor in Guatemala, who diagnosed me with diabetes and liver disease, then suggested I return to the United States for further treatment. After a few weeks in New York City, I collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. My heart, liver, and pancreas all failed, and we still had no idea why. Without either a diagnosis or a treatment, I was not expected to leave the hospital alive. The story of my damn-near miraculous recovery is told in the pages of Incompatible With Life.

When asked, I tell friends that, without a doubt, the best thing about surviving a battle with death is “the surviving” part. But, in truth, the story that arises from the experiences is worth almost as much. Confronting mortality under any circumstance is a profound experience, but doing so as slowly and patiently as I was allowed by the combination of my illness, my medical care, and the network of love that supported my journey allowed for a deep reflection on the meaning and purpose of life, and how love must be central to all we do in our brief window of time. Incompatible With Life tells that story.