A Personal AI Health Assistant: How I Gathered My Labs, Genetics, and Context into One Folder

Andrew Maryasov, AI consultant. I deploy AI agents for businesses, but this post is personal: how I handed AI five years of my own lab results, a genetic test, and doctors’ notes. Let me state the main thing upfront: this is not “AI instead of a doctor.” It’s “AI before the doctor” — with four rules I follow strictly.

TL;DR (in 30 seconds)

• Medical data lives scattered: different labs, different clinics, a genetic test sitting as a PDF in your inbox. At an appointment, the doctor sees roughly 5% of your context.
• I gathered everything into one Health folder — five years of blood work, a tellmeGen genetic test, doctors’ notes, MRI and ultrasound scans — and loaded it into Claude Cowork.
• In twenty minutes I got more practical context than in ten years of clinic visits: biomarker trends, six takeaways from my genetics, a ready-made list of questions for the doctor.
• AI doesn’t diagnose and doesn’t prescribe. It prepares you for the visit. The decision always happens in the doctor’s office.

Why your doctor sees 5% of your context

I’m 47. BMI 34. Vitamin D deficient for five years running. ALT rising three tests in a row. And off to the side, a forty-seven-page genetic test, of which I read the first ten pages — and put it away.

None of the three doctors who’ve treated me has ever seen all of this data together. My AI has.

The problem isn’t the doctors. Medical data is scattered by the very logic of the system: one lab in Kyiv, another in Las Palmas, a third somewhere else. The cardiologist’s report is at one clinic, the endocrinologist’s at another, the gastroenterologist’s at a third. Even you never read it all together — not once in fifteen years.

You come to the appointment — the doctor has fifteen minutes and one printout on the desk. They see maybe five percent of your context. And it’s not because the doctor is bad — the system is built that way.

Three stories that overrode my skepticism

Alex, a four-year-old boy. For three years his mother took him to seventeen doctors: the child wasn’t speaking, had stopped growing, complained of pain. No diagnosis stuck. In desperation, she loaded all the symptoms and scans into ChatGPT — which, within seconds, named tethered cord syndrome, a rare hidden neurological condition. A neurosurgeon in Michigan confirmed it. Surgery. The child is alive.

A forty-year-old woman, USA. She asked ChatGPT about conditions that mimic rheumatoid arthritis. The AI suggested checking thyroid antibodies. They found Hashimoto’s disease — and behind it, a hidden thyroid cancer. Surgery in January 2025.

A Reddit user, ten years of symptoms. MRI, CT, tests for Lyme disease and multiple sclerosis — all clean. ChatGPT analyzed the uploaded data and suggested checking a specific genetic defect that doctors hadn’t mentioned once in ten years.

This isn’t magic. AI simply reads all the documents at once and sees connections that a doctor physically cannot spot in a short appointment.

How I set this up for myself: one Health folder

In my Obsidian vault — the same one my whole AI stack is built around — there’s a Health folder with four subfolders:

• Bloodwork/ — five years of blood tests, three labs, organized by date;
• Genetics/ — the tellmeGen report: 47 pages, six separate reports;
• Visits/ — doctors’ conclusions, with dates;
• Imaging/ — MRI, ultrasound, X-rays.

Then I loaded all of it into Claude Cowork — it works with files and spreadsheets directly — and started asking specific questions:

• Show me the ALT, glucose, and uric acid trends over five years. Which ones are worrying?
• What does my genetic profile change about my training and supplements?
• Draft five specific questions for the gastroenterologist for my next visit.

Twenty minutes of that gave me more practical context about my own health than the past ten years of walking into clinics.

The genetic test: from 47 pages to six takeaways

I took the test a few months ago. When the PDF arrived, I read the first ten pages and set it aside: too much information, no answer to “so what do I do with this day to day.”

But when I gave that PDF to AI together with my lab results and training plan, 47 pages turned into six practical takeaways:

What the test showed	What it changes in practice
Fast-twitch muscle fibers dominate — a sprinter profile	Four sets of 6–8 reps with heavy weight work better than 3×15
High risk of tendinopathy in the arm tendons	Overhead press stays light, especially for the first eight weeks; warm-up is non-negotiable
Low bone density	Strength training is osteoporosis prevention at sixty; cardio doesn’t do that job
Two mutations in methylation genes	Standard forms of folic acid and B12 absorb poorly — I need the active forms
Slow metabolism of one class of antibiotics	A standard dose could be toxic — a topic to raise with my doctor
Hereditary risks for certain diseases	I know what to be prepared for and what to discuss with my doctor

In three months, my trainer never once mentioned muscle fiber type — simply because he’d never seen my genes. And the supplements question went from “to take or not to take” to “which exact form to take.” Without the genetics, I’d have been taking the wrong one and wondering why the numbers weren’t moving.

The conclusion is simple: a genetic test isn’t “one more number” — it’s an explanation of why your body responds the way it does. But a 47-page PDF on its own helps no one — your doctor won’t read it, that’s not their job. It helps when AI reads it together with your lab results and the context of your life.

Four rules to do no harm

1. AI prepares you for the visit — it doesn’t replace the doctor. I walk into the gastroenterologist’s office with “my ALT went from 50 to 77 in a year, glucose is 108 — let’s discuss a plan” instead of “something’s bothering my liver.”

2. AI doesn’t prescribe. If it suggested a supplement, that’s a topic for the doctor, not for the pharmacy. I started taking D3 with K2 after a consultation with an endocrinologist, and agreed on the dosage with my family doctor. AI proposes a direction — the decision is made in the doctor’s office.

3. Verify the references. In 2024, a Stanford study found that ChatGPT fabricated medical citations in roughly one case out of six. Models have grown up since, but the rule stands: when AI says “studies show” — demand a DOI or a PubMed ID. No reference, no fact.

4. AI can’t see you physically. It won’t hear how you breathe, won’t see the color of your skin, won’t palpate your liver. A doctor can. AI is the preparation. The exam happens in the office. The diagnosis comes from the doctor.

What this delivers in practice

• Five years of biomarker trends on a single chart, instead of dozens of PDFs from different labs.
• I understand which genetic-test findings actually affect daily decisions — from vitamin forms to the weight on the bar.
• I walk into appointments with specific questions and a complete dataset, not a vague “something feels off.”
• I see connections between markers instead of isolated numbers from different years.

Where to start this week

If you have at least three lab reports from the past five years, and somewhere in your inbox there’s a genetic test you’ve never re-read:

1. Create one Health folder — in Google Drive, Obsidian, wherever works for you.
2. Drop in everything you can find: lab results, genetics, doctors’ notes, MRIs.
3. Load the folder into Claude or ChatGPT and ask it to find the five-year trends and draft questions for your doctor.
4. Go to the appointment with those questions — not with a complaint.

The doctor will still have fifteen minutes per visit. The only difference is what lands on the desk during those fifteen minutes: a single printout — or a condensed digest of your entire medical history. The most interesting question is what happens to medicine when it’s not one patient in a hundred showing up with that kind of context, but every other one. The system isn’t ready for that yet. Patients very much are.

Important. This is not medical advice — it’s a personal account of organizing my own data. AI doesn’t diagnose, doesn’t prescribe treatment, and doesn’t replace a doctor. Make any health decisions — tests, supplements, dosages — together with your doctor.