About George

A bit about me

I’m George. I’m 57 and I’ve lived in Bangkok a long time now.

 

For about thirty years I ran my own businesses and consulted on other people’s. Strip that job down and it’s one skill: working out who actually knows what they’re talking about, and who is just confident. I got good at it. It made me hard to sell to.

 

I was never sick. Not once did I think anything was wrong with me. Then I tried a few things and felt a better version of myself — and only then did I understand what had been slipping. Ageing isn’t overnight. You regress quietly and you don’t notice, because you’re the one doing the adjusting. I found out what I’d lost by getting a piece of it back.

 

Ten years later I’ve co-founded a clinic here, and the rule I started with is still the rule the whole place runs on: we don’t offer anything we haven’t tried on ourselves first. That rule has cost us real money. I’m glad about all of it.

 

Being in this business is a privilege, and the privilege isn’t the money. It’s that I’ve been able to try all of it myself. Most people get one shot and a brochure. I’ve had ten years and a lot of mistakes to learn from. So the least I can do is be honest with you about what I found — and honesty is the thing this industry is short of right now.

 

Here’s the honest part, and it isn’t good for business. You don’t need a dozen products to live well for longer. I can reach any biohack on earth. I still have to eat properly and move every day, and there is no way around that part — there never was. Everywhere you look, somebody is selling you a stack of twelve things you apparently can’t live without. I don’t agree. You need the few things that are right for you, and they’re different for every person. Your body will tell you which ones. Listen to it.

 

What I care about is cells. We’re made of them. Everything that repairs you is already in you — that’s where my interest sits, and that’s why I ended up in cellular medicine rather than anywhere else in this field. It’s the part of it I’ll never get tired of.

 

So this is where I write things down. What I use. What I stopped using. What I’d never do again.

 

And one thing I’ll say as often as you’ll let me: you are the best doctor your body will ever have. Nobody else has lived in it. A good doctor is a guide on that road — someone who’s walked it and can read the map with you. The road is still yours.

 

What the rule looks like in practice

Everything we offer has been through me first. That’s how things get onto the list, and it’s also how they come off it.

 

The one that came off was MOTS-c. I had anaphylaxis on it. That was the end of it for me, and it’s the reason it isn’t offered. One reaction in one body isn’t a verdict on the molecule, and it isn’t a prediction about yours. It was just the end of the road for me. The rest of that story is on the Peptides page.

 

The rule shaped the stem cells too. I insisted the cells be fresh, never frozen, and before I trusted any of it I went to see the lab with my own eyes.

 

There’s one gap I’ll admit to. I’ve never had anything done for my hair, because I’ve never needed to. The hair page says that in its first paragraph. Everything on it comes from the people I’ve talked to, not from me.

 

What I actually do, most weeks

None of this replaces the boring part, so here’s the boring part.

 

I’m in the gym five days a week, lifting weights. For years my back kept me out for weeks at a time, off and on. That story is on the joints page.

 

I try to eat properly and sleep properly. I wear a ring that tracks my sleep, because numbers argue less than feelings do. I have my blood checked in rounds.

 

I still have stem cells as a regular round, and NAD+ too. Peptides I use two or three at a time, in cycles, depending on what my body needs at the time. Right now it’s three.

 

I used to smoke heavily, all my adult life. I stopped after my first round of stem cells. What I noticed that first time is on the stem cells page.

 

The rest is to hand whenever I need it. When I’m ill there’s a drip for that, and after a day in the sun at the beach there’s one for that too. The honest limit is time. I can’t sit still for long, and because it’s always here, I put things off like anyone else.

 

How I talk to people

Most people who find me start with a message, and I answer every one myself. People on my own team have told me to let AI help with the replies. I won’t. Someone deciding about their health should have a person on the other end.

 

I’ll spend as long as it takes with anyone who asks, whether or not they go ahead in the end. Sometimes that’s a video call with the whole family. Sometimes it’s someone who flies in to talk, goes home to think, and comes back later. How people decide has more of those stories.

 

What I do is listen, and tell people what I’ve seen. What I don’t do is decide who is suitable, or what anyone should have. That’s the doctors’ job, and I’m glad it isn’t mine.

 

I’ve always cared about how the place feels. Nobody gets rushed and nobody gets pushed. It shouldn’t feel like a busy hospital.

 

The part I like most

The cells are what I find fascinating. The people are what I like most.

 

I reply to reviews myself, and I keep writing the same thing: it’s people like that who make me love what I do. More than once I’ve felt that someone gave me as much as I gave them. Some of their stories, with the details changed to protect them, are on People I have met.

 

Where to start

• Stem cells: where my interest sits.

• Peptides: two or three at a time, never twelve.

• NAD+ & more: the other things I’ve tried on myself.

• The journal: what I’m thinking about lately. The first entry is The pen isn’t the point.

 

If you want to ask me something, I’m the one who’ll answer.

 

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