I was trained in surgery. In pharmaceuticals. In guidelines and protocols and the “right way” to treat patients. That’s how all of us in medicine are taught. You study the evidence. You follow the book. You prescribe what’s approved.
And yet. Over time, I started seeing things that didn’t fit neatly into those boxes.
It began with fecal transplants for C. difficile colitis. For this infection, the treatment works remarkably well. I’d see patients go from bedridden to back on their feet within days. Nothing short of remarkable. But then something unexpected: patients would tell me about other changes. A family once called me from another state. Their son had autism. After fecal transplant, they noticed he was calmer. More engaged. Communicating in new ways.
That wasn’t in the textbooks. It made me pause. Made me start to question what else we didn’t fully understand.
And then more small stories. Over the years. Little anecdotes that piled up in my mind.
My path toward manuka honey started the same way — with my cancer patients. Radiation can save lives, but for anal cancer, the burns it leaves on skin can be devastating. I’d follow every protocol. Creams, ointments, dressings. And sometimes nothing helped.
One day, a patient — smart, resourceful — called me. She told me she had tried manuka honey on her burns. And she was better. Not just “a little better.” Her skin had healed. When she came back to my office, I could hardly believe it.
So I tried it with another patient. Same thing. Then another. Same result. Before long, I wasn’t waiting for them to ask — I was reaching for manuka honey first.
It made me curious. If it could work on radiation burns, what about other wounds? What about the chronic anal fissures and hemorrhoids I was treating with expensive compounded steroids — often with poor results? Could something this simple work better?
I knew it was safe. It’s food. We eat it. And if you eat it, it passes through the anus anyway. So why not apply it directly to the wounds themselves?
So I made a sample. Then another. Then another. Each time refining it. And what stood out wasn’t the formulation — it was that it worked. Consistently. Patients with fissures who had failed every prescription ointment, patients desperate to avoid surgery, would come back in two weeks and tell me: “I’m healed.”
They’d ask where to buy this “miracle ointment.” And every time, I’d tell them: you can’t buy it. Just come back, and I’ll give you more. For years, that’s exactly what we did. We made it in the office. We gave it away. Because it worked.
Eventually, the calls started coming more often. Sometimes multiple times in a single day. Patients wanted to know how they could just purchase it, have it shipped, keep it at home. It was easier than driving in, finding parking, walking upstairs, asking for a refill.
That demand — from patients themselves — is what pushed me to bring this product to market. Not because I wanted to create another ointment to sit on pharmacy shelves. But because this was something I had seen heal, time and again.
So here we are. Building a brand. Creating something that is both natural and physician-backed. There will be hiccups. That’s the reality of starting anything new. But we’re committed to making sure the experience, and the product, are exactly what you should expect from a brand built on trust and patient care.
