On the first day of Dan Adelman’s Healthcare Business Analytics course, Luccas Borges, ’24, heard something that made him sit up straighter in his seat.
Adelman, the Charles I. Clough Jr. Professor of Operations Management, spoke of a conversation with a Booth graduate who is an executive at a company that provides at-home infusion services. After class, Borges stopped Adelman. “Which home infusion company executive were you talking about?” he asked. When Adelman told Borges that it was Mike Shapiro, ’00, the CFO of Bannockburn, Illinois-based Option Care Health, Borges couldn’t believe it. Though Borges didn’t know Shapiro, he was well acquainted with the company. “Talk about a small-world connection,” Borges says.
Option Care Health’s home infusions had become an essential part of daily life for Borges after a serious skiing accident disabled his small intestine and thus his ability to absorb nutrients from eating or drinking. (Read more about his accident below in “A Remarkable Recovery.”)
Borges was interested in meeting the man at the helm of a company whose service was helping him stay alive.
Adelman connected Borges with Shapiro, just as he had connected many other students, professors, and alumni as codirector of the Booth Healthcare Initiative. The initiative’s goal is to bring together the Booth healthcare community, keep faculty informed about industry changes, and apply The Chicago Approach to business thinking to healthcare. Adelman says the connection between Borges and Shapiro is the most serendipitous he has seen thus far.
When the Healthcare Initiative launched in 2020, Shapiro invited Adelman to use him as a sounding board and offered access to his company’s many resources. Since then, Shapiro has had numerous conversations with Adelman and also meets with Booth students, providing insights from his career. He says he finds it rewarding and energizing to stay connected with students—but none has moved him quite like Borges did when the two met in 2023.
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By the time Borges had his auspicious meeting with Shapiro, three years had passed since his remarkable recovery. He had enrolled at Booth and was enjoying life, traveling and skiing, with plans to open his own private-equity firm after graduation and a growing interest in healthcare after his experience as a patient. Parenteral nutrition—essentially bags of nutrients from Option Care Health, fed into his body via a port in his chest, mostly while he sleeps—makes it all possible.
“Having the privilege of helping someone like Luccas live his life and pursue a meaningful career is beyond rewarding,” Shapiro says. “To know that we support such an extraordinary young man’s life and all the things he’s working toward is a source of considerable pride.”
For Borges, meeting Shapiro felt like finding the last missing piece of a puzzle. After his recovery, he had spent months meeting with nearly every small-intestine transplant surgeon in the country, but found out that such operations are rare as well as complicated and risky. Instead, Borges turned to parenteral nutrition technology. Once his health improved, Borges returned to thank the EMTs, doctors, and nurses who saved his life. He even gave talks on treatment pathways for severe intestinal failure at medical conferences across the country, and counseled patients to inform themselves and be their own advocate.
But Borges had yet to meet a pharmaceutical executive or see how his parenteral nutrition was made. Shapiro invited Borges to tour Option Care Health’s facilities, meet the pharmacists, and speak to employees at the company’s annual meeting. Borges met people working in procurement and the supply chain, and he waved through a window to pharmacists who were formulating life-saving infusions in the sterile compounding pharmacy. Borges expressed gratitude to everyone he met.
“There is meaning to each step in the company’s process,” he says. “It’s not just a regular business. It really does affect patients’ lives.”
“Behind every one of those dollars and digits is a Luccas. It’s a miracle that he’s with us today. You can’t take one day for granted.”
— Mike Shapiro
After touring the facility, Borges delivered the keynote speech at the meeting. Attendees were visibly moved by Borges’s story.
Shapiro and Borges have maintained their relationship, collaborating on everything from creating instructional videos to speaking with patient-advocacy groups. Option Care Health brings in more than $4 billion a year in revenue and serves more than 270,000 patients, but Shapiro says that meeting Borges has been a vivid reminder that the company’s work is about more than money. It’s about helping people.
“Behind every one of those dollars and digits is a Luccas,” Shapiro says. “It’s a miracle that he’s with us today. You can’t take one day for granted.”
Borges, now 26, has gone skiing every year since the accident, although at first he didn’t tell anyone he had returned to the slopes. Since he earned his MBA, he and a partner have been busy fundraising to meet their $75 million goal for their startup, Union Industrial Co., a Dallas-based firm focused on private equity and real-estate development. He also joined the board of directors of the Oley Foundation, a national nonprofit home nutrition therapy community and advocacy group based in Albany, New York.
Throughout his recovery, Borges has stayed focused on his path forward. “It’s been powerful to focus on what hasn’t changed,” he says. “And I feel that it is a gift to still do the hobbies I enjoy, live the life I want to live, and pursue a career in business investments rather than seeing anything as a setback.” In the hospital, Borges recalls asking himself, “What’s left of me?” The question has turned out to have a hopeful answer, in part thanks to the connections he’s made along the way—with doctors, with Shapiro, and with the community at Booth.
A Remarkable Recovery
In December 2020, Luccas Borges, ’24, woke up in a hospital room, unable to move his arms or legs. The room was dark, save for the red gleam of a digital clock that read 8:08. He had no clue of the date or even if it was morning or night.
In a daze, Borges wondered: “What’s left of me?”
Less than two weeks earlier, he had been skiing downhill in Salt Lake City when a binding on his ski snapped. His body careened into a pole at 60 mph. In the ambulance ride to the hospital, feeling sheer pain, Borges feared his own death was imminent.
Thirty seconds after he arrived at the trauma bay, Borges’s consciousness darkened. His heart stopped for 10 minutes. Doctors transfused more than 175 units of blood into his body, using every available drop in the city.
By the time Borges stabilized, doctors weren’t sure he’d ever rise. His L2 vertebra had shattered. His superior mesenteric artery, which feeds the gastrointestinal tract, had been severed by the impact with the pole. His small intestine died due to lack of blood flow. At best, the doctors said, he had a 1 percent chance of survival. For the next seven days, Borges lay in a coma.
Then, it was 8:08.
After his consciousness returned, doctors gave Borges a grim diagnosis: he’d have spinal fusion surgery in two days and remain in the hospital for two years. Borges balked—he was an active skier with an active mind and had so much left to do in life. He was determined to recover faster.
A day after the surgery, Borges took his first slow, agonizing steps down the hospital hallway. Eyes widened in the ICU—isn’t that the guy in a coma? Trauma staff later told Borges that seeing him walk the halls was like seeing the dead rise.
Two weeks later, on his 23rd birthday, Borges flew home. Three months after that, he returned to the slopes.