Andrew Robertson

Hey guys. This is going to be the most personal update I’ve ever shared publicly. I live in public view — my work does, anyway. I’ve never been shy about sharing my ideas or passions. But I’ve always worked very hard to keep my family out of view. That’s partly for their safety. But also because, despite appearances, I am an intensely private person. The public part of my job is exhausting and often a little frightening. I’m now facing something far more frightening. And I may need your help. Last fall, my wife became very ill. A series of medical tests ruled out the non-scary explanations. Just before Christmas, we were told it was metastatic cancer. She has since undergone urgent surgeries, including successful removal of the primary tumour. She is young, strong, and otherwise healthy, and her recovery so far has been remarkable. Now we are entering a long, grinding phase of this fight — chemotherapy and we hope other treatments — with the goal of getting ahead of this nightmare. We have cause for optimism. The metastasis is real and terrifying, but limited and small. We didn’t catch this “early,” but we may have caught it early by the standards of such things. We have a real shot, and we are determined to fight as hard as we possibly can. Many of you noticed I went completely to ground. This is why. If you are the praying type, we would appreciate your prayers. For those who may be able to offer medical help and options, please reach out — I’m easy to find. I’m assembling an army for her. This is the most important thing I’ve ever done, and I can’t imagine a better use of my energy or my skills. As we settle into a new rhythm, I’m beginning a gradual return to work. Don’t be surprised if you see more thoughts from me about the health-care system. I’ve been amazed and humbled by some of the care we’ve received. I’ve also been shocked and frightened by other parts of the experience. I’ll have more to say about that later. But now I want to talk about my wife. We met when we were 17. We had math class together. I changed my seat so I could look at her. She was stunning. I can still see her in my mind’s eye exactly as she was then. To me, she is as beautiful today as she was at 17. I did, and still do, feel like I’ve been winded when I just look at her. We weren’t high-school sweethearts. Our journey was longer. We didn’t become an official couple until late in university, after a long period of circling each other — trying to understand what to do with a deep friendship that was evolving into something much scarier and more consequential. We made the jump. Not without false starts. Not without fear. But we made it. And my life has been amazing since. Because of her. She is all I have ever wanted. She isn’t perfect. She isn’t easy. Neither am I. We’ve had good times and bad. But she is the absolute foundation of my world. My entire sense of self is wrapped up in her. I don’t know where I end and she begins. Nearly 20 years after we stood in a park and agreed to be together, I am as hopelessly in love with her as I was then. It is a crippling love — more than I contain. I can barely think about it. It just feels like too much when I try. She and our two children are my everything. And I am going to fight for her and for this family with absolutely everything I have. I will never surrender. I can’t. There is no me without her. So that’s the story. Please be patient with me. Please be kind. Pray for us if you can. And help us if you have the power.