My story
I'm still a work in progress. This is how I got here.
I'm not a doctor and I'm not finished. What I am is someone who watched his own health fall apart, refused to accept that nothing could be done, and spent years figuring out what actually moves the needle. Everything here is what I've genuinely learned. Not what I'm paid to say.
There's a version of me that most people who come through the clinic door would never guess existed. The version that spent his weekends in nightclubs until 4am. That promoted events, ran bar crews, danced hip-hop competitively, and genuinely loved every chaotic second of it. That was me. Not a phase, not a detour. And while I was doing it, I was slowly destroying my body.
I grew up the youngest of six. Tight family. My dad taught Hapkido (a Korean martial art, methodical, precision-based). I watched him break problems into structure before I had language for what that was. What I had, early on, was a love of patterns. Chess. Maths. Software logic. Not because I was a prodigy (I wasn't), but because they all shared the same skeleton underneath: cause, effect, system. I liked knowing how things fit together.
The nightclub years weren't a mistake. I was embedded in that world. Genuinely, not as a tourist. Hip-hop dancer. Promoter. Team leader. I read rooms. I knew what people needed before they asked. But underneath it, I was carrying something I couldn't name. Anger, mostly. Not at anything specific. Just present, constant, sitting in my chest like a weight I'd got used to.
One day I went into a float tank super angry. I came out and everything was clear. I don't know how else to explain it. Went in wrecked, came out calm. And my first thought wasn't that was amazing. It was: something is wrong with me, and I need to work on it. That was the actual turning point. Not the injuries. Not the business. That float tank.
Shortly after, my body made the decision for me. Hashimoto's thyroiditis: an autoimmune condition the medical system would manage but not fix. I was watching my body break down in ways I didn't understand, and I needed to know what was actually happening. That's what sent me looking.
I found a chiropractor who also did Chinese medicine. She massaged out delayed-onset muscle soreness completely, in one session, and my brain genuinely could not compute the mechanism. But it worked. I enrolled in the degree. I loved the physical side: the injury logic, the bodywork, the structural thinking. It mapped straight onto how I already thought.
That closed door pushed me sideways, into wellness, biohacking, alternative modalities. I started going deep: fasting, diet experiments (vegan was a disaster, carnivore was a revelation), fermented foods, microplastics, peptides. I did real work on myself instead of looking everywhere but inward. It's like we have amnesia, I kept thinking, and we're rediscovering what our ancestors already knew.
The first time I tried HBOT, I didn't feel much. I want to say that clearly, because every origin story is supposed to have a moment where the protagonist touches the thing that changes everything and knows. I didn't know. I just kept researching, because the research was compelling. And I looked around and realised: nobody near me was doing this properly. The modality existed. The evidence existed. The practice didn't.
So I bought a chamber. Then I looked at the numbers and stretched to a clinic-scale unit. I told one friend: "I'm putting everything on the line." That was the literal truth. I was bankrupt after the purchase. What followed wasn't a glorious hustle montage. It was equipment that didn't work out, a tiler who took the deposit and disappeared, a sauna business that bled cash, too many hats, never home. It affected everything. What kept me going? I had no other choice. I just had to make it work. That's not an inspiring answer. But it's the honest one. Honest answers are the only ones worth keeping.
The signal that things had turned wasn't dramatic. No champagne, no milestone moment. It was quieter than that. The bleeding slowed. I could breathe again. My own health has come a long way from where it was. HBOT, red light, peptides, diet, years of not quitting. I'm not going to tell you it's "fixed", because that's not how this works, and I'm still learning. But I understand both worlds now: the guy who destroys himself, and the guy who rebuilds. I've been both, sometimes at the same time.
The industry is still the Wild West, and regulation is coming. Most operators don't know what's about to hit them. I do, because I've already lost real money on equipment that won't meet what's coming. That's part of why I write so the people I serve, and the people thinking about this space, get the honest version before the rest of the world catches up.
That's the whole story. That's why I'm here.
— Nuggin