Memoir Update: March 2026

Happy end of March, everyone!

Spring has sprung, so this will be a relatively short update. (I’ll be treating myself to a late-afternoon bike ride to close out the day. 🚲🌞)

Here’s what’s going on with MORE THAN WE EXPECTED:

Most of this month has been spent preparing for my upcoming TED Talk in Vancouver. It’s been a little challenging for a few reasons:

• This will be the first major talk I’ve given to a non-medical audience. It’s hard to know what moments will resonate with the general public.

• Since I only have around twelve minutes to speak, I need to make some tough choices about what to keep in and what to leave out.

That being said, I’ve put together a talk that I’m starting to feel comfortable with. It’s about the wonders and mysteries of being human, and what it means to make decisions in the face of the unknown.

I can’t wait to share it with the world, and especially all of you.

Early in the month, I traveled to Connecticut to speak at an event hosted by Quinnipiac’s Center for Interprofessional Healthcare Education. The enthusiasm of the students there was inspiring — and best of all, they asked great questions.

The visit also introduced me to two incredible medical librarians — Rachel Lerner and Matt Wilcox — who (with typical generosity) gave me some wonderful ideas about how to more deeply explore the topics and themes I’ve been exploring. (As always, it’s great to learn more about another new and unfamiliar field!)

A few weeks later, I headed to Chicago — my second-favorite city in the US. I was invited to give two talks there, each memorable for different reasons:

I was invited to deliver the inaugural Gracias Family “Thrivorship” Lecture at Lurie Children’s Hospital. It was a wonderful evening, attended by a wide range of attendees … including a local “Hero”!

The next day, I met with various teams across the hospital. We had wide-ranging conversations about everything from the logistical obstacles of getting kids outside (there’s an incredible park across the street that patients can’t visit) to how to engage with families during rounds.

I also had an unexpected reunion with one of Nadav’s doctors at Columbia (now on staff at Lurie) who happened to be on call the night he died. She had made the effort to attend his shiva, which we very much appreciated at the time. We had a fascinating discussion about why that is sometimes hard for doctors to do.

The second talk was much different. It was at the annual conference of the Society of Critical Care, an event covering both adult and pediatric medicine — held at Chicago’s vast McCormick Place Convention Center.

My session was well attended, and it was nice to see our story resonate with such a varied group of intensivists. (For only the second time in my life, I finished my talk to a standing ovation!) But even more encouraging was the enthusiasm with which these clinicians welcomed parent voices into the conversation.

It is a little intimidating to be the only dad in a room full of credentialed physicians. But I’ve learned not to be shy, especially when waiting in line at the bar. (I also met one of the world’s leading palliative care ethicists at the water fountain!)

Throughout the Chicago trip, I felt myself overwhelmed by a feeling of disbelief. How lucky am I to be able to focus on this work, and pursue something so meaningful?

I have no idea where this all leads, and (as I’ve mentioned before) it can be a pretty lonely place. But it is a wonderful feeling to know that more opportunities lie ahead.

Thanks, as always, for all of your encouragement and support — and best wishes for a healthy and meaningful Passover for all who celebrate.

Cheers, James

(p.s. If we haven’t crossed paths in a while, please drop me a line! It’s always great to hear from you.)