Hi Reader,

Welcome to issue number two of the Age's Adventures newsletter!

Thank you to everyone who replied to my last email—your feedback helps me shape this new endeavour. If you ever have comments, suggestions, or criticisms, please email me at newsletter@agesadventures.com.

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Now, let's dive into today's update.

As you know from my videos, my 2026 took a massive, unexpected turn with my cancer diagnosis. You’ve seen the journey, the surgeries, and the recovery on the channel.

I was looking at files on my computer this week. I found a blog post that I started writing back then, but never published. I think it is far too powerful to just delete and leave sitting on a hard drive, so I wanted to share it with you here:

I wrote the below on March 14, 2026.

My mother had a cancer scare 28 years ago. My parents kept it a complete secret from me.

Now I understand why...

The Appointment​
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in the examining room of my doctor’s office. After the usual pleasantries, I mentioned a nagging issue: my nose had been bleeding daily for about six months, and a lump inside was blocking my breathing.

My doctor leaned in to look. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “Holy Cow!”

He pulled out his mobile phone, snapped a picture of the inside of my nose, and immediately dialed the hospital's on-call Ear, Nose, and Throat (ENT) specialist and left an urgent message.

He looked at me and said, “You saw what I did there.”

How could I not? I was sitting right there!

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” he told me bluntly. “You need to be looked at right away. Not put on a regular waitlist. This could be serious. It could be CANCER.”

The Flood of Fear​
It took everything I had not to break down right then and there. Fear and doom flooded my body. Had I left it too late? I don't know what I need to finish doing in this world, but I'm not done yet. That I know.

My doctor’s phone rang. It was the ENT returning his call.

“I’ve got my patient here," my doctor said into the phone. "I’ve been a practitioner for 27 years, and this is the first time I’ve seen anything like this. He has a large mass in his nostril. You don’t even need a scope; you can see it with the naked eye. He needs to be looked at as soon as possible.”

The ENT promised to squeeze me in within two to three weeks.

I walked out of the office completely stunned. I hopped in my Jeep, sat there for a minute, and I thought, “Holy shit! Oh My God!”

I said to myself, "OK, let's get home, Age".

The Loneliness of Protection​
As I drove, I started to feel despair. My eyes started to tear up blurring my vision. “You can’t cry while driving, Age! Hold it together!” I told myself.

Then came the hardest question: Who do I tell?

My gut reaction was to tell absolutely no one. Why make the people I love panic when I didn't even have answers yet? Selfishly, I also didn't want people calling me to ask for updates when I wasn't ready to talk.

It was so hard! I wanted someone to lean on, yet I wanted them to only know about it when I needed to talk about it. I didn't want to burden someone else and make the feel bad or worried about my worries. It's such as strange thing to feel so alone when you've got people that will gladly take this on with you.

Instead of calling family, I went home and opened a chat window with Gemini AI. I talked to the AI for two to three hours. It was strangely therapeutic, helping me to half-heartedly convince myself that everything would be okay.

The Urgent Call​
The next day, the ENT’s office called with awesome news: they had an opening in six days. Knowing this was being taken seriously brought immense comfort. The panic faded into quiet concern.

When I finally met the ENT, he examined the mass and was convinced it was a vascular growth. He said it was benign, and stated that a routine biopsy would be done to confirm it was not cancer.

I left the office feeling better and would feel much better once it was out.

The very next day, they offered me a surgery slot just five days away. I jumped at the chance rather than wait for the next slot in six weeks.

Under the Knife​
The night before surgery, I made the classic mistake of watching YouTube videos of the procedure. Seeing the tissue being cauterized made me concerned that the recovery would be painful.

I was just ready to get it out.

The hospital nurses were awesome! I was lying on the operating table. The anesthesiologist looked down at me and said, “You should feel sleepy right about now...”

My eyes closed.

Then I opened my eyes and I was getting wheeled into the Surgical Day Care room, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off. My nose was heavily packed with gauze taped under it like a thick moustache.

The doctor stopped by with an update: everything went well.

The Wait​
Now, I wait for the biopsy results to confirm the doctor's diagnosis.

Cancer is such a scary thing! The thought of it and the unknown is super frightening too! It makes you think about things that you don’t normally think about. It brings your own mortality alive in your thoughts...

The Post-Op Fashion Statement

Waking up with a massive gauze pad taped under your nose is a humbling experience. I looked in the mirror and realized I had a giant, puffy white moustache.

I seriously considered keeping it as a new trademark look for the channel. Unfortunately, it turns out a gauze moustache is terrible for drinking coffee and makes me look like an unhinged cartoon villain. The outdoor vlog community just isn't ready for that kind of high fashion yet. 😁

Thank you for walking this road with me,

— Age

P.S. Navigating the fear of a diagnosis is something many of us go through in silence. If you missed the broad overview of how this diagnosis completely reshaped my career, my health, and the future of my channel, click here to read my first update or check out my videos over on YouTube at @agesadventures.

P.P.S. Next week, we are officially escaping the hospital walls and heading back into the wild. Fair warning: I think the isolation has finally driven me crazy, because the trail animals have started talking back to me. Keep an eye on your inbox for that story! 🐿️