Medical Update and My Last Qualification
June 9, 2026
A few weeks ago, several of my blood counts were moving in the right direction at a pretty good pace. Part of that progress was thanks to the weekly injections I had been receiving to help boost my immune system. We stopped those shots for a while to see how my body would do on its own. After reviewing my labs yesterday, my oncologist and I decided it would be a good idea to start them back up for a little while longer.
A few of the numbers that are important for my participation in the clinical study have drifted downward. Nothing alarming, and certainly nothing that has anyone worried, but enough to show that my immune system is still rebuilding itself and could use a little extra support. The goal is simple: keep things moving in the right direction and avoid any disruption to the study.
It may also explain why I’ve been feeling more tired than usual lately. Not exhausted, just the kind of tired where an afternoon nap can easily turn into sleeping away half the day. It’s a reminder that even though I feel better than I did a year ago, my body is still hard at work repairing itself.
I’m continuing to stay active and keep up with the exercises my physical therapist gives me. Every time I think I’ve mastered one exercise, she seems to find another weakness that needs attention. The good news is that I don’t trip nearly as much as I used to, and I’ve regained a lot of strength in my left foot. The range of motion still isn’t where I’d like it to be, but I’m learning how to work with what I’ve got.
Today, I went to the range for the final time as a federal agent.
As I drove there this morning, I found myself thinking about my very first range day nearly twenty-six years ago. Special Agent Ron W. took me to an old range run by a local Texas police department to familiarize me with the weapon and see what kind of shooting skills I brought to the table. I can still picture that day clearly. The smell of gunpowder, the Texas heat, the nervous excitement of being brand new. It feels like it happened a few months ago, not more than two decades ago. Time has a way of compressing itself as the years go by.
Watching the younger agents shoot today filled me with a sense of pride. Long after I turn in my credentials, they will continue the mission of investigating fraud, waste, and abuse. They will carry the work forward, just as others did when it was my turn to step into the role.
When my turn came, I stepped onto the firing line one last time.
I settled into my stance, focused on the target, and let everything else fall away. For those few moments, there was no cancer. No retirement planning. No doctor’s appointments. No decisions about what comes next.
There was only the target and the task in front of me.
It felt peaceful. Almost like touching Nirvana for a brief moment.
As ready as I am for this chapter to end, I know there are things I will miss. More than anything, I will miss the people.
Some of my closest friends were made through this work. We spent countless hours together in surveillance vehicles baking under the relentless Texas sun, staring at a house and waiting for something...anything...to happen.
We froze through North Dakota winters that seemed determined to test the limits of human endurance.
We sweated through the heavy, humid air of Baton Rouge in the middle of July.
We sat in dirty living rooms and cluttered basements waiting for forensic processes to finish long after everyone else had returned to the hotel.
We were absolutely manhandled by Krav Maga instructors during a training in Atlantic City. What looked simple when they demonstrated it became a completely different story when it was our turn on the mat. Every mistake in balance, positioning, or technique was quickly exposed, often with us ending up on the ground wondering what had just happened.
We spent late nights in the office staring at logs, records, and mountains of data, trying to make sense of what we were seeing.
Along the way, we shared bad coffee, long drives, inside jokes, frustrations, victories, endless searches for a restroom in the middle of nowhere, and a truly unhealthy amount of Twizzlers.
Those experiences create bonds that are difficult to explain to people who haven’t lived them. The memories become part of who you are.
I know I’ll experience a lot of emotions between now and my retirement date on June 27. For now, I’m trying to appreciate each remaining day.
Standing on the range today, hearing the crack of pistol fire and catching the familiar scent of gunpowder drifting through the air, I realized something.
What I’ll miss most isn’t the job.
It’s the people.
I’m proud of those members of the OIG community who will carry the mission forward. I’m proud of the work they’ve done and the work they will continue to do. Most of all, I’m grateful for the opportunity to stand beside them for the last twenty-six years.
When I finally walk out the door for the last time, that’s what I’ll take with me.
Not the badges, titles, or cases.
The people.


You will also leave your legacy that will live on in your work, and the people you worked with. It sounds like an amazing adventure!
Not an ending, but a transition to something new. (Writing)?
You should be proud of your career!