Three Days Later

Last week brought an unexpected change. After losing my job due to corporate restructuring, I found myself wondering what came next.

Three days later, I found myself walking through the beautiful grounds of the Rosen Shingle Creek Resort in Orlando, Florida.

If you’d told me on Tuesday that this would be my Friday, I wouldn’t have believed you.

On Tuesday, I sat in a meeting and heard the words that so many people have heard before: restructuring, budget cuts, position eliminated.

By Friday afternoon, I was meeting with Aadeel Akhtar, PhD, founder and CEO of PSYONIC and inventor of the Ability Hand, the prosthetic hand I wear every day.

I first learned about Aadeel years ago while watching Shark Tank, where he secured a deal with the Sharks and shared his vision of making advanced prosthetic technology more accessible. At the time, I never could have imagined that one day I’d be sitting across the table from him, talking about how his invention had impacted my own life.

Life is funny like that.

For those who may not know, I’ve been wearing the Ability Hand for about six months.

Six months.

Long enough for it to become part of my daily life, but still new enough that I occasionally stop and smile at something that once felt difficult or uncertain.

In those six months, this hand has helped me carry drinks with confidence, build LEGO sets, and play pool with friends. It has helped me navigate everyday moments that I once worried might never feel natural again.

None of those things sound remarkable on their own. But six months ago, I wasn’t sure any of them would come easily again.

It has given me more confidence walking into Meetup groups and meeting new people.

And perhaps most unexpectedly, it has given me something I didn’t realize I was missing.

A desire to move forward with my life instead of remaining stagnant.

The Ability Hand hasn’t just helped me do things.

It’s helped me become more willing to experience things.

To say yes to opportunities.

To meet new people.

To try new hobbies.

To imagine a future that feels bigger than the one I had settled into.

So, to be sitting down for lunch with the founder and CEO of PSYONIC and the inventor of the very hand I wear every day felt a little like an out-of-body experience.

Not because I was meeting a celebrity.

Not because I was meeting a CEO.

But because I was meeting the person whose idea, years ago, eventually became something that helped me start moving forward again.

How often does someone get the opportunity to thank the person who invented something that has changed the way they move through the world?

So when Aadeel reached out to see if I might want to meet while he was in Florida, there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity.

I arrived early.

Partly because I always arrive early.

Partly because I was excited.

And partly because I wanted a few moments to take it all in.

The resort was beautiful. There were fountains, winding walkways, and people everywhere. I later learned that a large conference for physicians of Pakistani descent was taking place that weekend. Families and colleagues were catching up, laughing, and enjoying being together.

I wandered the grounds and snapped a few pictures.

And then I had one of those moments that only life can create.

Pinch me. I’m really here.

Not because I was standing at a beautiful resort.

Because I was standing there three days after losing my job.

I still feel like I lost my job twenty-two minutes ago.

The emotions are still there. The uncertainty is still there. The questions are still there.

But for a little while, standing there in Orlando, they didn’t feel quite so heavy.

When Aadeel arrived, any nervousness disappeared almost immediately.

He apologized for being late because of an Uber issue, which honestly made me laugh. Here I was, perfectly willing to wait all afternoon, and he was worried about keeping me waiting.

He was energetic from the moment he walked up. Animated. Enthusiastic. Curious.

In many ways, he was exactly the person I had watched years earlier on Shark Tank as he secured a deal with the Sharks.

But what struck me most was that none of that energy felt performative.

It felt genuine.

It felt like I was sitting across from someone who still gets excited talking about prosthetics, robotics, and the people whose lives are impacted by the technology his company creates.

It didn’t feel like meeting a CEO.

It felt like meeting another human being who carried none of the airs you might expect from someone who has impacted so many lives.

Over lunch, we talked about everything from the future of prosthetics and robotics to family, theme parks, and life in general.

He shared the story of being seven years old and meeting a young girl in Pakistan with a limb difference who was using a stick as a crutch. You could still see the passion in his eyes as he told the story.

Some people build companies.

Others build missions.

I got the sense that PSYONIC is the latter.

We talked about the future of the company and the incredible things they hope to accomplish, from advancements in the Ability Hand to the intersection of prosthetics and robotics. Listening to him talk about the future, you couldn’t help but feel excited.

At one point, our waitress stopped by because she noticed the demo hand sitting on the table.

“I have to ask,” she said. “What is that?”

Aadeel explained that it was a prosthetic hand.

Then she turned to me.

I smiled and lifted my arm to show her my Ability Hand.

And then she asked if I could show her how it worked.

So I did.

I explained the haptic feedback and how the vibrations let me know that I have a secure grip on an object. I picked up my water glass and set it back down.

I explained how that little vibration creates confidence.

How it allows me to carry something across a room without wondering if I’m about to drop it.

How a seemingly small feature can make an everyday moment feel normal.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Aadeel nodding along.

I won’t lie.

There was a little pressure in that moment.

Don’t screw this up, Todd.

But then I realized something.

I wasn’t describing features.

I was describing freedom.

The vibration that tells me I have a secure grip isn’t just a piece of technology.

It’s confidence.

It’s trust.

It’s the ability to focus on the conversation at the table instead of worrying about whether I’m about to drop my drink.

Those little things matter.

And they matter more than I can put into words.

He knows how the hand was built.

I know what it’s like to live with it.

And for a few minutes in a restaurant in Orlando, I got to tell that story.

At some point during lunch, the conversation naturally turned to work. Aadeel asked what I did professionally, and I shared that I had recently been laid off.

I wasn’t looking for anything.

I was simply answering the question.

But something happened that I wasn’t expecting.

I felt valuable.

Losing a job has a way of making you question yourself.

It makes you wonder whether you mattered.

Whether your contributions mattered.

Whether the last thirteen years mattered.

Even when you know it was restructuring.

Even when you know it wasn’t personal.

You still ask the questions.

And then, three days later, I found myself sitting across from someone who remembered me, invited me to lunch, listened to my experiences, valued my feedback, and genuinely cared about my perspective.

I didn’t leave Orlando with a plan for my future.

I left with something I needed even more.

I left with a reminder that I still have value.

As we wrapped up lunch and took a few photos together, I thanked him.

I don’t think many people ever get the opportunity to thank the person who created a device that has changed their daily lives.

I did.

And that’s something I won’t forget.

As I walked back to my car, I realized that for the first time since Tuesday, I didn’t feel like the guy who had lost his job.

I felt like someone standing at the edge of a new chapter.

I don’t know exactly what that chapter looks like.

I don’t know where my career goes from here.

I don’t know what opportunities may or may not be waiting around the corner.

But for today, I know this:

Three days after losing my job, I sat down for lunch with the inventor of my prosthetic hand.

And somehow, in the middle of one of the hardest weeks I’ve had in a long time, I was reminded that life still has a few surprises left for me.

For the first time in several days, I didn’t feel defeated.

I felt hopeful.

And for the first time in several days, I’m excited to see what’s next.