My father was healthy, active, and rarely sick. Then something was off, and the system still waited for things to get bad enough to look deeper. He died of cancer at 58. I was 22.
This is the short version of a longer spiel about health care architecture. Care was built for emergencies and for annual snapshots. It makes sense why this is the case given not long ago we were trying to figure out how to not die from things like yellow fever or rattlesnake bites. Over the years, our technology advanced, but the care architecture remained the same: how can we effectively treat issues when they arise. The concept of prevention eventually emerged, but as an annual check-in marketed as a sufficient preventive care approach. But a lot can happen in a year. By the time illness comes, the window for early action is closed. This preventive architecture requires a gamble on the window for early action being longer than a year. For some things it may be, but for others this gamble could be a death sentence.
I am a husband and a father now, building out of Arizona. I run Geviti, CEO Nathan Graville, a longitudinal preventative health platform building a new healthcare architecture. I wasn’t sure what was next for me after I sold my first startup around twenty-two. After the exit I wanted quieter work. Something “passive”. Then the loss of my father created a calling that was impossible to ignore, and the pursuit of quieter work stopped being an option.
When I began digging in, I noticed prevention runs on a billing cadence outlined by insurance companies. One lousy bloodwork panel and one annual appointment. A snapshot of how you were feeling or functioning at that specific point in time. However biology does not pause between physicals. This prevention approach is annual sampling, but sampling is hardly monitoring. A fasting glucose can sit inside the population range while your personal baseline drifts. A lipid panel marked normal can hide a pattern that only appears when you stack draws against sleep and training load. How can you know these things from an annual preventative check-in? Inflammation does not wait for an annual slot. Nor does the early biology of a disease.
So I built Geviti to take continuous prevention from aspirational to operational. From sampling to monitoring. From prevention as a marketing gimmick to prevention as a new architecture.
At minimum, Geviti members get biannual at-home biomarker panels assessing three to five times more than the typical “full panel”, collected through mobile phlebotomy so the logistics do not become another barrier. Results, plans, and care live in one app which connects with your wearables. Human wellness specialists and providers sit on top of that record. AI is in the stack for pattern-finding, compression, and routing. It can hold more history in view than a person can keep in working memory, flag drift across sparse draws, and compress noise into the few changes that matter this week so the right signals reach judgment. We don’t offer longitudinal monitoring just to tell you if you are trending in a negative direction. Rather, we provide the protocols, whether inclusive of prescription therapeutics or purely lifestyle driven, to prevent you from trending in a negative direction in the first place. Today, Geviti serves thousands of people across the country under a membership model. The membership model is important, because as already established, prevention that depends on a single visit and a single bill is hardly prevention. Longevity is something that must be subscribed to.
The company I founded around 2021 did not arrive fully formed when we eventually launched. The first version was access: get the right labs into people’s hands without forcing them through a system designed for the already-sick. Demand pulled us into broader protocols, including safe, doctor-monitored peptides, because members wanted tools to support or counteract what their data was showing. Then demand pulled us into genomics, and gut microbiome assessment, and so on. When I say demand, I’m only partially talking about customer demand, but also the demands required to truly optimize health and prevent decline. To do so, it demands a well equipped tool chest.
I have countless receipts for why this care architecture matters beyond my father’s story. We have this amazing member at Geviti, an Air Force veteran, whose labs were flagged by our system early enough that his blood cancer was caught sooner than the old preventative care architecture would have allowed. That is not a marketing anecdote I drag into every room, rather it is evidence of what happens when attention is continuous instead of ceremonial. As the builder, I watched the architecture work the way it was supposed to, strengthening my conviction that the world needs to adopt it. We had built something I wish would have existed while my father was still here and healthy.
Our growth has largely come from customer alignment and word of mouth. Listening to customers has been more useful than any plan I’ve written. In fact, I believe all business plans should be stripped down to these four steps. Step 1. Architect an idea. Step 2. Build the MVP. Step 3. Talk to your customers. Step 4. Iterate per their feedback, quickly. The only thing you can plan on is that nothing will go to plan. So it’s best to start simple, and iterate quickly. Geviti does quite a bit that is less than conventional, or goes against the status quo. For example, I am obsessed with the idea of not having a massive team, while other founders dream of employing thousands because it signals “scale”. However, it is important to me that Geviti’s team doesn’t become an overstaffed bureaucratic mess. So, we don’t hire in proportion to every new member, rather we have frequent think-tanks on how we can optimize systems and strengthen our capabilities with emerging new tech to decrease the need for more people while still increasing the quality of our services. Despite our approach to defer hiring, our customers have a better experience with Geviti compared to those with double the headcount per capita. The easy thing to do is to hire, but alignment on the mission and our purpose here can become trickier to maintain. Innovation can become slower. So we avoid it until we can’t.
All of this to say, what I am trying to change is not a product category, but rather our society’s approach to health, and how the architecture is designed. I’m sprinting on this change. Access to longevity starts when the longitudinal record is the default and sampling rate follows rate of change instead of the care cadence deemed “appropriate” by insurance companies. For this to work, clinician time should be reserved for judgment and relationship, not triage of every number. AI belongs in this rebuild as infrastructure for attention. However, peer-to-peer care still needs a peer.
I did not come to this work because I wanted another venture. I came to it because I watched a healthy man lose time to a system that only knew how to photograph a crisis. The system couldn’t see it coming, because the system only took snapshots from time to time. My mission is simple: stop treating continuous biology as an accessory to an annual check-in, and start treating the annual check-in as one sample inside a continuous system.
