Discovering the Business I Was Meant to Build

How a forgotten archive, a broken rhythm, and a Chicago parking lot shaped everything that came next

Disclaimer: This post reflects my personal experience and views. Names, dates, and details have been changed or fictionalized for privacy and narrative clarity. This content is not intended as a legal statement and does not disclose any confidential information under NDA.

The Files I Thought Were Lost

While preparing materials for an independent valuation tied to an ongoing legal review, I came across something unexpected.

It had been years since I left the company I helped build. Five, to be exact. A lot had changed, and I had moved on. But recently, I brought in a forensic computer expert to recover old files and emails I had long assumed were gone. The goal was clear: work with a valuation team to determine the full scope and concrete value of what we had built.

What I didn’t expect was how it would feel.

One folder led to another: factory audits, resin specs, regulatory documents, promotional designs, internal notes… and there they were: early IP frameworks, mold schematics, custom machinery orders, vendor evaluations, and brand architecture from the early days. It was all there, buried but intact.

I had forgotten how much ground we had covered.

We spent years flying between tens of factories in Israel, Turkey, China, Taiwan, and throughout the U.S., testing materials, sourcing resins, refining formulations, grinding through FDA 510K reviews, and obsessing over every millimeter of packaging and design. I remembered how proud we had been, not just of what we made, but of how far ahead of the curve it was. We weren’t just developing a product; we were building an identity.

And it wasn’t just technical. We had traveled extensively, exhibiting at both international and domestic trade shows, meeting with strategic buyers, distributors, and potential collaborators. The files were filled with travel itineraries, booth designs, follow-up notes, and conference leads from events that once felt like defining milestones. It was the kind of effort that doesn’t show up on a balance sheet but leaves fingerprints on everything that follows.

As I reviewed it all: contract drafts, launch plans, early investor decks, I was hit by the same combination of passion and discomfort. There was pride, yes. But also frustration.

Because the potential was real. And yet, what we had built was diverted. Absorbed into something else, mishandled, minimized. I had stepped away in March 2020, but the years that followed took turns I never could have predicted. And now, as part of a process to reclaim clarity and value, I was staring directly at what had been there all along.

Not nostalgia. Just truth.

The Parking Lot Blueprint

The real beginning wasn’t on a spreadsheet. It was in a rental car at 8:30 a.m., parked in a frozen lot outside a meeting with another recently formed, provider-owned GPO in late 2015.

I turned to my colleague and said, “We’re being asked to cut a precious 3% more margin for a middleman that adds no real value. How does this make sense?”

He shrugged. “That’s just the game.”

“It’s parasitic,” I said. “We need a better ecosystem.”

“What would you do?” he asked.

“I’d build something that actually adds net value. An ecosystem that doesn’t face the provider and isn’t encumbered with referral regulations. One that drives performance, aligns incentives, and scales.”

He looked at me and asked, “Are you high?”

I wasn’t. But I was serious. The idea stuck.

When I stepped away from traditional distribution at the end of 2017, I went back to that moment. I founded a company (we’ll call it CoreBridge) as a platform, not a distributor. A shared services engine. A launchpad for new models in healthcare that weren’t bogged down by inventory cycles and margin pressure.

That’s when the phone rang.

The Deal That Didn’t Go Through (And Why That Was the Real Gift)

A colleague reached out. He was building a respiratory device business and had run into serious headwinds with a key partner. The business was under pressure, and the situation had become precarious.

I stepped in, partly because I believed in the product, but mostly because I believed in the founders. Along with a few strategic backers, we bought the inventory and structured a buyout to give the company a real shot at recovery.

It wasn’t easy. Regulatory demands, inventory burdens, and a heavily consolidated market made every step uphill. Still, we pushed forward, expanding the product line, raising capital, and reconnecting with strategic partners.

Eventually, we reached what felt like an inflection point, where all the effort, all the alignment, and all the groundwork should have led to the next chapter.

But it didn’t.

What followed wasn’t what we had prepared for. Plans stalled. Commitments faded. And for the first time in my career, I found myself in the middle of a legal process, not just fighting for myself, but to protect the trust and capital of the investors who had stood by the vision.

It’s amazing how fast three years can pass when you’re navigating ambiguity. But also how much clarity it can bring.

Epilogue: Rediscovery

So why tell this story now?

Because that frozen-car conversation in 2015 wasn’t just a rant. It was the blueprint. And everything that followed from that rediscovered archive to the legal complexities, only confirmed its truth.

The traditional distribution model in healthcare is broken. The layers of non-transparent intermediaries are draining energy, resources, and innovation from the people actually trying to solve problems.

The future belongs to platforms built on:

• Transparency

• Alignment

• Net value creation

• Strategic flexibility

That’s what CoreBridge set out to do. That’s what I’ve spent the last several years proving, both to myself and to the partners who’ve joined me.

And as for the past. I’ve heard from more than a few people close to the situation that they know what happened. They know what was done. But pride, ego and a vacuum where real leadership might have stepped in has kept their focus elsewhere. I believe there’s resolution waiting. But timing matters.

I’ve learned that while I like to move fast, I don’t always get to march to the beat of my own drum. Some rhythms are slower by design.

If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt like your vision was sidelined by bureaucracy… if you’ve ever built something with soul, only to watch it get lost in someone else’s process… I’m telling you this:

You’re not crazy. You’re not alone. And it’s not too late.There is a better way. Let’s build it.

Glossary (for those outside healthcare or venture):

• 3PL: Third-Party Logistics (outsourced warehousing & fulfillment partner)

• GPO: Group Purchasing Organization

• SKU: A distinct product type or unit (Stock Keeping Unit)

• Cap Reimbursement: Government-capped payment for medical services

• Convertible Note: A loan that converts to equity during a future investment round

• EBITDA: Earnings Before Interest, Taxes, Depreciation, and Amortization