Introduction
With: Patrick Nolan
Welcome back, and welcome to this week’s ChapterKey™ release of Decode Your Diagnosis.
This chapter is one of the most important, and one of the hardest.
It’s called “The Moment of Diagnosis”, and it deals with the raw reality of what happens when your world shifts. When a doctor says the words that split your life into before and after.
What Paul shares here is deeply personal. But it’s also universal because if you’ve been diagnosed with a chronic condition, or someone you love has, you know the emotional fallout. The shock. The inner critic. The spiral of questions.
This chapter is about recognizing this moment not as a defeat, but as the start of your comeback, the moment the Titan in you wakes up.
Take your time with this one, and don’t forget, the Reflection Journal is available for free download if you want to process more deeply.
Now, let’s step into the moment that changes everything.
The Moment of Diagnosis
By: Paul Cobbin
So, you’ve been given a diagnosis. How does it feel?
For most of us, hearing those words is surreal. It’s as if the ground beneath us has shifted, leaving us disoriented and unsure of where we stand. Denial often kicks in, shielding us from the full weight of the news.
Questions might flood your mind:
Why me?
What did I do to deserve this?
Here’s the thing: no one “deserves” a diagnosis. It’s not about fairness or punishment. A diagnosis is a crossroad, a moment shaped by the interplay of internal and external forces, your genetics, environment, lifestyle, and more.
Right now, it may not feel like a journey you want to take, but trust me: this moment holds the seeds of transformation. As we work together, you’ll come to see it as an opportunity to align with your deepest strengths and values.
Denial isn’t your enemy. It’s a protective force, giving you the space and time to process a reality that feels overwhelming. Think of it as a buffer, softening the blow of the initial shock.
For some, denial is fleeting; for others, it lingers. Wherever you are in this process, know that denial is normal. But it’s also a temporary phase, not a destination. Moving beyond denial doesn’t mean giving up hope. It means taking the first step toward reclaiming control over your life.
When I was first diagnosed with prostate cancer, I refused to believe it. There was no family history, no warning signs that I could see. They must have made a mistake, I thought. It wasn’t until my radiologist (an old high school friend) confirmed it in person, that I began to process the reality.
Denial is a natural defense mechanism. It shields us from the weight of the truth, giving us time to adjust. But staying in denial for too long prevents action. It wasn’t until I accepted my diagnosis that I was able to move forward and develop a plan for recovery.
Once the initial shock and denial begins to ease, one of the hardest moments often lands in a way you’d least expect. It’s the first time the world grows quiet. The doctor’s words fade, and the distractions of the day disappear. In this silence when everyone has gone to sleep, the inner critic often grows loud.
Your inner critic whispers fears, amplifies doubts, and may even try to assign blame telling you “This is your fault”. You should have done something differently. Let me be clear: your inner critic is wrong. Your diagnosis isn’t a punishment or a failure. It’s the result of a complex interplay of forces. Blame won’t serve you here. What matters is the choices you make moving forward.
After the initial shock, there’s often a moment of deep silence, a pause where the world around you fades, and all that’s left is the weight of your thoughts. For me, this silence was deafening. My inner critic, whom I call Charlie, took over, filling the void with worst-case scenarios and self-doubt.
It took conscious effort over months to silence Charlie and redirect my focus toward solutions rather than fear. Journaling, meditation, and discussions with my wife helped me regain control over my thoughts and set a clearer path forward.
When the weight of the diagnosis felt too heavy, I found small acts of mindfulness could create profound shifts.
One of the small but powerful tools I used during my treatment was the Half Smile, a mindfulness practice that helps ease tension and shift perspective.
The Half Smile isn’t about pretending everything is fine, it’s about acknowledging the moment while offering yourself compassion. By softening the tension in your face and forming a gentle smile, you signal to your body that it’s safe to relax, even amidst chaos.
The first time I tried it, I was sitting in a sterile, clinical room, staring at a giant robotic spider, its metallic limbs poised like something straight out of a dystopian sci-fi nightmare. The machine that would remove my prostate looked more like a villain from Doctor Strangelove than a life-saving medical device. The fear was real, even palpable.
Then, something shifted. A realization hit me that I was about to become the hero of my own sci-fi story. If I survived this, it would be like winning the gold medal for sci-fi geeks everywhere. I forced myself to smile, just slightly, embracing the absurdity of the moment. It wasn’t about pretending everything was fine; it was about acknowledging the challenge while choosing to face it with resilience.
This simple practice became a powerful tool, blending the Dynamic Harmony of Mind, Body and Soul. It helped me maintain a sense of calm even in the face of uncertainty, and ultimately shaped my perspective on what it means to face the unknown with courage.
Every great story has a hero, and in this one, that hero is you. Heroes aren’t fearless or invincible. What makes them heroic is their willingness to face challenges head-on, even when the odds feel impossible. In this journey, you are becoming a decodingTitan, someone who uses the Codex to chart their path with courage and clarity.
During my prostate recovery, I had a moment of realization, I wasn’t just a patient; I was a warrior on my own journey.
Walking with my father, a colostomy bag strapped to my leg, I saw myself not as someone suffering, but as someone actively taking control of my path forward. Each step forward felt like reclaiming a part of myself, transforming what could have been despair into a determination to rebuild and thrive. Don’t get me wrong. In those weeks leading up to the prostatectomy I WAS a patient.
On the outside, I was like the Road Runner, the epitome of stoicism. On the inside, an entirely different narrative was in play. Mentally I felt like Wile E Kyote about to succumb to the inevitable effects of gravity, as the cliff of “normal life” I was standing on moments earlier was about to disappear into the canyon below. All the fears about losing my masculinity, becoming incontinent, and the likelihood of suffering erectile dysfunction, all summed up to a big bundle of self-imposed doubt.
Rhetorically, one question kept playing over in my mind. Was I making the right choices or not?
The moment you shift from seeing yourself as a victim to recognizing your own strength and ability to be the change, is the moment everything changes. This was my Paul Cobbin 2.0 moment, the realization that I wasn’t just a patient, I was the architect of my own recovery. Like any great sci-fi hero facing the odds, I wasn’t just enduring, I was rewriting the script and literally taking my first step towards becoming a Titan. In taking control of your own story and forging a future where you are the hero, not the bystander, you become the Titan of your own destiny.
Right now, this diagnosis may feel like an ending. But I promise you, it’s the beginning of something new. It’s the start of your journey toward Functional Integrity, where alignment and resilience will empower you to face life with renewed strength.
Let’s take a moment to reflect on what I learnt from the moment of my own diagnosis and how it can be applied to yours.
In facing the diagnosis, I didn’t know it yet, but I stood on the Knife Edge of Time, that pivotal point where the past falls behind and the future waits for your first step. It was during this space of silence and uncertainty that The Alignment Codex began to take shape. At first, it wasn’t a philosophy. It was just scribbles in a notebook, emotional outbursts in a journal, random ideas that slowly began to form a pattern. In time it became a personal guide that helped me find clarity, resilience, and momentum. That’s why I encourage you to begin using your Reflection Journal differently. Not as homework, but as a lifeline. A place to ground yourself. That way, every thought you write down becomes part of your Codex, your foundation for navigating this experience with intention and strength.
How Did We Get Here?
Receiving a life-changing diagnosis often triggers a loop of questions as denials frames the first symptoms of depression.
It’s highly likely you’ll find yourself asking:
Why me?
How did this happen?
Could I have done something differently?
This mental cycle is not only natural, it’s human. When faced with uncertainty, our minds instinctively search for answers, hoping to make sense of a reality that feels incomprehensible.
Yet this endless loop, while understandable, can become a trap. Dwelling on the "why" without direction leaves us stuck, reliving decisions, habits, and regrets without finding clarity. It’s like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.
Breaking free from this loop requires a shift in perspective. Instead of viewing these questions as accusations, we must approach them with curiosity and compassion. The key lies in reflection, not as a tool for blame, but as a means of understanding. By reflecting on our past choices, the Forces that shaped us, and the current state of our Elements, we begin to build clarity. With clarity comes the power to make changes.
You can’t stop denial from happening as it’s a natural stage of grief and grief is definitely something you encounter with a chronic diagnosis but in a nutshell, go easy on yourself..
Upon being diagnosed with prostate cancer and later, severe heart disease, I inevitably found myself asking, Why me? What did I do wrong? The truth was, my past choices played a role, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. I had lived a full life participating in expeditions, undertaking adventures, building career success, and yes, enjoying personal indulgences. I had burned the candle at both ends vigorously, and now, my body was cashing in on those debts.
Yet, regret wouldn’t serve me. Instead of dwelling on why me, I reframed the question to: What can I do now?
You see, this wasn’t my first rodeo. I’d already been dealt with the cancer card and it had done a good job at shaking me to my core. From that experience, I’d learnt a lot though, and The Alignment Codex was quickly becoming a support tool for me.
The past had shaped me, but it didn’t have to define my next chapter. As Tennyson wrote in Ulysses:
"We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven,
That which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."
These lines resonate deeply because they capture what it means to be a Titan (a patient decoding a condition), acknowledging the past but refusing to be bound by it. I am not at my physical peak anymore that’s for sure, but I still have the strength of will to fight, adapt, and move forward.
An example of this came eight months into my Coronary Artery Disease (CAD) diagnosis when I suffered a significant health decline, something I labelled my ‘heart crash’.
The culprit? Stress. For years, I had internalized the pressures of my career, believing that resilience meant pushing through, regardless of the toll it took on my body.
But my smart watch and my psychologist told a different story. If I didn’t change, I wouldn’t survive. I made the hardest decision of my professional life: I stepped down as CEO and resigned from my board role.The decision was life altering because for the longest time, I had lived to work, not worked to live.
The impact was immediate and my heart health rebounded from 42%, rising 35% in just three months to 77% by Christmas (for more on the measurement parameters see the preface). When the crash started the graph indicated the opposite was likely if I had maintained the previous path. A trend resulting in imminent death.
It was proof my mind, body, and soul were intrinsically linked. The stress I carried wasn’t just emotional, it was physical, and it was killing me. Letting go wasn’t failure; it was survival.
At this stage it dawned on me that my past wasn’t working for me but it became evident I wasn’t paying attention
Early into my heart disease diagnosis, I became focused on the medical prognosis of being ‘incurable’.
On the weight of that reality and adding the concept of comorbidity (having multiple chronic conditions), compounding the challenges, it made every conversation with doctors feel even more daunting. But I refused to accept that my fate was sealed. If modern medicine had no further solutions, then I would seek out my own.
I flipped all the switches and explored everything from mental therapy to Traditional Chinese Medicine, Ayurvedic Medicine, nutrition, and new exercises. With each step, a new pathway began to emerge. Suddenly, my journey wasn’t about accepting a grim prognosis, it was about exploration and proving I could push medical boundaries.
The concept of Decode Your Diagnosis was born. By functionally integrating Mind, Body, and Soul, I wasn’t just managing the condition, I was fighting back. The horizon was no longer limited. It was mine to define.
After diagnosis, the world feels uncertain, but deep within that disruption lies an opportunity: the chance to rediscover who you truly are. In the next chapter, we explore how identity shapes healing, and how reclaiming your sense of self becomes the first act of resilience.
Key Insight
Reflection brings clarity, acceptance of the past and a renewed commitment to change the future.
Practical Reflections
What was your immediate emotional response to your diagnosis, and how has it changed over time?
How does your inner critic show up, and what helps you silence or redirect it?
What small act of resilience or compassion can you repeat this week to support your alignment?
Fama Sidebar: The Navigator’s Insight
The moment of diagnosis is like entering uncharted territory. Your emotions are valid, but this is also your call to action. I’m here to help you navigate this journey step by step. Start by writing down one positive thought or action you can focus on today. Even the smallest step matters.
Remember: You are not alone, and your Codex will grow with you.
Closing Notes
In closing, that was The Moment of Diagnosis, a chapter that hits deep, because it speaks to the part of us that’s still reeling, still grieving, still recalibrating.
If you’re here, reading or listening, then you’re doing something incredibly brave. You’re facing it and that’s what really matters.
This is also a great moment to pause and reflect.
So be sure to download the Trinity Reflections Notepad because it’s free, and it’s designed to help you process your experience as you go. The link’s are here or in the recording notes below.
And remember, you don’t have to walk this path alone. You can join the CommonFire™ chats and let this story become part of yours.
Until next week, keep turning the page, you’re stronger than you think.
And if you’ve been the ChapterKey™ First Edition release of The Trinity of You, I’m here to remind you of some great news. The entire ChapterKey™ release of The Trinity of You will continue all the way through to the last page totally free for subscribers of the Decode Your Diagnosis Substack.
However, if you would like a deeper engagement to mix with other Titans just like you, the Titans Arena waiting list is now open. By joining the waitlist you’ll receive early access, live events, and a lot more opportunity to decode your diagnosis exclusively to members of the Inner Ring.
🔒 Join the Inner Ring waitlist
Keep decoding. We’ll see you Tuesday in Rings of Resilience.
With you in this always,
Patrick & Paul
Your description of diagnosis as a "before and after" moment touches so deeply. It’s a universal human experience, yet so isolating when it happens. You’ve articulated the unspoken: that this moment isn’t just about medical facts, but about the seismic shift in how we see ourselves. Thank you for naming that. 🙏
I guess your Codex mirrors what many ancient traditions teach: that crisis demands integration (mind/body/soul). Yet you’ve made it feel accessible, not esoteric.