Andrew Gorbaty was about to start a new job at 28 years old — and then found out he had tongue cancer. What are you supposed to do when you’re trying to manage your existential concerns, but also your real life ones, like a brand new job, at the same time?
Today, I am so honored to introduce you to Andrew. I first got to know him as a colleague, where he was one of the spunkiest, most compassionate, funniest people I ever interacted with — all while going through life-threatening radiation and full-body surgery.
In this conversation, we talk all about his journey surviving cancer, managing his emotions, dealing with pain, and learning to let go of the fear of death. I’m so grateful we have him here with us to share his story and provide wisdom for any of us going through a hard time they didn’t expect.
Let’s get to it!
First — what was your life like before cancer?
I was at a job that I had been at for about six years. I was involved in the construction of very big, 3D modeling software, and I was fortunate to be surrounded by really smart people. But I had learned everything I wanted to learn from that — and I said to myself, hey, I could probably stay here and learn more if I wanted to, but I wanted to branch out. I had never worked for a startup before — I was searching for a new challenge.
Also, before COVID, and before cancer in particular, I didn't take my life for granted, but I kind of took my time for granted. Maybe driving back and forth from work did that for me. And during the weekends, I would just be on Twitter, arguing with people online. I just remember just being so exhausted some days after that.
What was it like when you got your diagnosis?
While I was looking for new jobs, I contracted COVID in April of 2021. Then I thought COVID was over, but found a bump on my tongue, about a couple of weeks afterwards. And I said, well, that’s because of COVID.
I think my dad knew some doctor who claimed to do stuff with ENT (Ear, Nose, and Throat). So I saw this doctor and he said, this is because of COVID — so I didn’t need a biopsy. Okay, fine. But the month afterward, I still felt the bump on my tongue, and I thought, that’s very odd.
Meanwhile, I specifically took six weeks between jobs because I wanted to have some time to not worry about work at all, and be free of any structure. Structure is good, but sometimes you just need a break from it.
But while I was on my break, things weren't getting better. My mom found someone who knew someone at the University of Maryland. They did a biopsy. I was driving from Maryland to Texas because my friend was getting married. And then the doctor calls and says, hey, it's cancer. Well, fuck this predicament, because I'm starting this new job in two weeks. Not even two weeks. And in the back of my mind, I kind of knew that it was cancer. I hoped it wasn't, but I was sort of prepared for it in a way.
How did you react?
Obviously, I was very devastated, because it shocked me that it could take my life. But also in the short term, I was starting this job.
Now, I know a lot of companies in the valley (Silicon Valley) are actually receptive to catastrophic events like this, but I didn't know at the time. I had no idea that they were going to be as supportive as they were. I didn’t even tell folks I contracted cancer until after I started radiation treatment a few months later. Some employees kinda figured it out on their own, but I was fairly silent about it.
Wow. For most of us, when we imagine getting cancer, we think about the long term fears. But you’re right, we don’t often think about the short term problems, too.
It was weird because I was getting ready to start the new job, but I already kind of knew the diagnosis. I just said during an onboarding call, hey, my tongue kind of hurts. I think I might see a doctor. And they said, oh, well, that's not going to be a problem, is it? That's why that first month working for my new job, I said to myself, I’m going to try to make as much of an impact as I can, and then do my surgery. I wasn’t even sure I would be back.
It’s amazing you were also able to stay so focused on making a quick impact — I think most people would let their anxiety get to them, and not be able to focus on work at all. How were you able to do that?
It was definitely a challenge. When I was waiting for my surgery, I sort of had to pretend everything was okay. I would end work, watch videos, play games — I would continue my daily activities. But I knew in the back of my mind that shit was going to go down soon.
The surgery itself…if you look it up online, it’s very real stuff. There are actually warnings on Google images saying it’s too graphic. They cut out the front part of my tongue, 70% of it. Then they cut out four lymph nodes out of my neck, then a muscle from my leg, and made a skin graft, through the part in my neck.
After surgery, when I was going through radiation and chemo, there were days I felt incredibly tired and did not have enough strength to do what I wanted to do. I felt very frustrated by that. I remember there were multiple weekends — still feeling the effects of chemo — I would just stare up at the ceiling, thinking, man, I can’t think about much except for work. That's all the capacity I had to think about.
Is it fair to say work was helpful, in a sense? To keep your mind focused on something consistent, instead of things you couldn’t do?
Yes, instead of wallowing in self pity. I didn’t want to be a charity case. I didn't want to think of myself that way. And I wanted to have some sort of impact. Not that I only wanted to do work, but it was a way to keep my mind off the ball, from the other shit that was occurring in my life.
It’s like when people say, work is a vacation from college because you don't have homework. For me, work was a vacation from cancer.
What was the timeline of the whole process?
Well, I found out officially in October of 2021, and then surgery was at the beginning of December. Radiation chemo was at January to early March 2022.
It was weird because the doctors initially painted the impression that the chemo radiation is just six to seven weeks — and then you’re done. But radiation has effects long after that. Every so often, I'd have part of my body that would start aching, that I didn't expect to ache.
An example is, I still have a lot of dry mouth. It’s very difficult to create your own saliva after surgery, so I constantly have water around me (points to a large bottle and takes a sip).
How would you describe your emotional state during the whole process?
It varied by the day, but mostly frustrated, angry.
I know a lot of people would feel sad, but for me, it was mostly anger. Not, why did this happen to me, but anger that I couldn’t do more with my life. I was just stuck being a patient, and angry that I couldn’t contribute more to my family and friends and people around me that I care about.
That's a beautiful answer. I think most people would spend time being angry about, why me? Especially in their twenties. Did that why me come up at all?
Oh, absolutely. You can only be altruistic for so long.
Actually, what I was going through — I feel like you would like this comparison. I remember watching this Netflix special about how Jerry Seinfeld, in the early 2000s, was performing at these no-name comedy clubs. It was because Seinfeld, his TV show, had fallen off, and he was having some personal issues with his family. In a way, he was starting over. Well, not starting over completely, because he had the money and the fame.
But during radiation, I kind of felt like Jerry Seinfeld at the time. As in, my life has sort of crumbled and changed, but I was trying to — not recreate what I had, but create an experience that was similar, but maybe even better than what I had before.
Interesting — you’re saying it’s almost like an act two, where it’s part of the same story but a distinctly different phase. What are the main things that are different for you in this new act of your life?
I think I don’t take my time for granted anymore. Before, I would sometimes wake up and say, I’m just going to go on YouTube and waste my day away. That still happens every now and then, but I try to catch myself and say, do something more productive with your time.
One thing I did in the past that was time consuming was being a people pleaser. But I don’t really feel like I have to do that anymore.
When I was younger, I just wanted people to accept me and I wanted to be friends with everyone. I didn’t want to cut anybody out. But now I am a bit more careful as to what kinds of friends I want. I’m a lot more thankful for the stuff that I have right now. And hopefully it can remain that way. But I know life changes.
I imagine this experience completely changed the way you see life. Are there any philosophies you’ve come to embody? Do you think, life is short?
I wouldn't say that life is short. I mean, I know that, but I don’t tell that to myself constantly, because I’d feel like I’d always be pressured to use my time super efficiently.
I have a private list of goals. I try to make lists for myself, to keep myself in check that I’m doing the things I want to do. And that I’m not straying too far from them. But I’m not saying to myself, oh, life is short every single day… and I’m living a much happier life because of it.
It’s one thing to have time pressure at work — that’s expected. But for my personal life like that, that’s not something I want to practice.
For anyone going through a hard time — whether it’s a cancer diagnosis, or some other health issue — what advice would you have?
I guess what I could recommend: prioritize your wellbeing first, of course, and try to just focus on one thing at a time.
What helped me, personally: I pretty much woke up, went to work, did radiation, relaxed in pain, and then went to sleep. This made my schedule as simple as it could possibly be. And make that routine. It makes it so that you’re not totally focused on what’s happening to you, and you create normality.
So if you have a huge house of cards and it falls, you’re trying to make sense of the tower that’s still standing. If you can preserve what’s currently there — that’s your priority. And if it does all fall to pieces, you can rebuild it. That’s okay, if you’re still alive. That’s the most important thing.
Thank you so much for sharing all your insights with us today. Is there anything else you want to leave our readers with?
I suppose a lot of people who read your content are very career-focused people, and I respect that a lot. But I just want to tell your readers that it’s okay to have days when you’re not super productive.
It's okay to have relaxing days where you’re just watching Netflix or reading a book or whatever. You don't have to beat yourself over the head with a bat, trying to be productive all the time.
This might be a hot take — I think that capitalism is a positive thing. But it’s nice to just take a break from that and do things that are unrelated to money or capitalism.
Also, I feel like saving money is super important, and a little bit underrated in our generation. But — I feel like there’s also this trend of, save until retirement. Well, okay, but some of us might not even be here when retirement comes. And even if we are, are we going to be well enough to travel the world? Probably not. I probably won’t. You don’t have to wait until retirement to do the things you want to do.
Thank you so much for reading today’s interview — I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below. And email me at anna.raskind@substack.com if there’s anyone you think would be a good fit for this series!
Thank you for sharing Andrew's story. There are so many meaningful takeaways from this interview!