Honestly, it was an accident – at least at first. My degree was in accounting, and I’d been a tech geek since I could walk. After working in Manufacturing for a few years, I took a job in 2008 as a Budget Analyst at a large health system. I figured I’d do the job, do it well, and move on. What happened instead is that I started automating everything I was hired to do and then, with the extra time, just got curious about everything around me.
I asked to observe surgeries. I stood in a full lead vest next to cardiologists doing heart caths. I ran a DaVinci Robot, spun down blood samples in the lab, dissected in Pathology. I wanted to understand every corner of that place. So, while the path started by accident, I stayed on purpose.
The thing that locked me in was an article in The New Yorker, published in 2011, “The Hot Spotters” by Dr. Atul Gawande. If you haven’t read it, go read it. It was about a doctor in Atlantic City using data to identify the highest-risk patients in a community and intervening before things got catastrophic. The way data was used to pinpoint risk in a population, it spoke directly to everything I was already trying to do with my technical background. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I started trying to replicate what they had done in my local patient population. That took me far beyond, and I’ve never looked back.
I co-founded a healthcare data and analytics platform called DignifiHealth – now rebranded as Constyn – that we built to do exactly what I’ve always believed data should do in healthcare: surface risk, drive intervention, and measure impact across patient populations. Sellers Dorsey acquired the platform in mid-2025, and along with it, I came on as Chief Technology Officer.
The fit made sense. Sellers Dorsey is doing serious, consequential work in Medicaid at scale. Constyn brought a product layer to complement that advisory capability. What drew me in was the ambition: this team isn’t interested in incremental. There’s a real vision here to become a tech-enabled healthcare impact firm, and I want to be part of building that.
Healthcare impact, to me, means actually moving the needle on chronic disease – not just managing it. There’s a difference between keeping someone’s diabetes “controlled” on paper and actually reversing the trajectory of the disease in a population.
It’s 2026. We can launch rockets and catch them on the way back down. We have more computing power in our pockets than the original space shuttle program. And yet diabetes rates keep climbing. Obesity keeps climbing. COPD keeps climbing. What is all this technology actually doing for the health of society?
I don’t think the answer is more technology for its own sake. The answer is using data with precision – identifying the right patients, the right interventions, and the right moments – and then relentlessly measuring whether what we’re doing is actually working. Impact without measurement is just activity. I’m not interested in activity. I want to be able to point to the number that moved.
I’m genuinely excited about what we’re building. As a prior founder and a lifelong entrepreneur, the build is the fun part. You’re always working toward something slightly out of reach, and by the time you get there, the next goal is already set. That’s not frustrating; that’s the point. It’s what keeps you pushing, keeps you learning, keeps you adapting.
What I enjoy most is that I get to operate at both ends of the spectrum simultaneously. I can be in the architecture of a platform decision in the morning and in a board-level strategy conversation in the afternoon. That’s not common, and I don’t take it for granted.
What I’m most excited about this year is the maturation of the SME-wrapped Constyn platform with measurable and demonstrable impact for our clients. That’s the thing that will define whether we’ve done what we set out to do.
I build and race cars. I’ve added performance parts, done full builds, and I race autocross and track days in a car I built myself. People tend to expect a CTO who’s into software, and I am, but there’s something about being in a garage with grease on your hands, solving a mechanical problem, that scratches a completely different itch.
I guess it’s all the same instinct at the end of the day: take something apart, understand how it works, make it faster.
Cutting grass, full-time, starting at age 11. At 14, I went to work for an entrepreneur who owned a car wash and detailing shop. Honestly, it was one of the best educations I ever received. I learned the basics of plumbing, electrical, auto mechanics, hydraulics, solenoids, pumps, vending machines, money changers. You name it, I touched it.
My family didn’t have much, so if I wanted to go on a date or get to college, I knew I needed to work and save. That mindset has never really left me. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
My kids are now 19 (son), 16 (daughter), and 13 (son). Along with my wife, we all love to just hang out – with many of the kids’ friends included. We’re the house where everybody lands.
I eat, sleep, and breathe Formula 1. If there’s a race weekend, I’m watching. It’s the intersection of engineering, strategy, data, and competition at the highest level. What’s not to love? Otherwise, I’m probably in the garage or wrangling a car at the edge of grip – that’s where speed lives.
There are too many to pick just one, honestly. But if I had to name a book that shaped how I think early in my career, it would be The Leader Who Had No Title by Robin Sharma. The premise is simple: you don’t need a title to lead. You just need to show up, add value, and take ownership of whatever’s in front of you. That idea was formative for me. I was a Budget Analyst automating my way out of my own job description while wandering into cardiac cath labs. The title came eventually. The mindset came first.