Diagnosed with Glioblastoma (The Brain Cancer Monster)

Okay, so here’s the rundown in bullet form.

Hospital time (why you guys gotta stick me with so many needles?)

  • Had a seizure while driving in early May 2015. No accident, but now I can’t drive for at least 1/2 year. I wouldn’t want to risk anyone’s safety so I’m down with that law.
  • A friend from work took me to the UF Health ER.
  • Alex arrived while I was in the waiting room and could see that I was pretty loopy.
  • They wanted to draw blood and scare me with needles so I got a healthy dose of Xanax to help blur all of it out.
  • They scanned me and found a few areas where they thought I had cancer.
  • I ended up having cancer in the frontal lobe of my brain.
  • They got me brain surgery pronto.
  • I’ve got a metal plate in my skull now. I wonder if it’s bullet proof.
  • The surgeon came in and told me and family that while he removed the tumor I was terminal with Glioblastoma, and that I had about 11 months to kick around on planet earth.
  • The oncologist came in later sporting an awesome bow-tie and made it sound like I might be able to get a few years since I was younger and fairly healthy.
  • Friends and family started searching the internet like detectives. I was told that some people have lived upwards of 10 years.
  • While I was at the hospital all the nurses kicked ass and were top notch. Much respect goes out to them. I still need to send them some thank you cards and some gift cards for putting up with my needle phobic ass.
  • I left the hospital after a few days which I was surprised about since someone was just cutting around in my brainz.

Home time (what happened to the last three weeks?)

  • Alex and family took me home and took care of me while I was all kind of screwy on pain killers.
  • They seemed surprised that I was fairly optimistic and vocal about how I wanted things to go down. Hey I’m a pessimist so I’ve had soooooo much time to think of terrible situations like this. Now that this shit has happened, what the hell, I can be an optimist and do my best to be happy damnit!
  • The pain wasn’t too bad, but I’d have nights where family would come over and give me neck rubs to cut through the pain that was pulsing out of my skull. It felt so good to have family there for me. I felt so much love.
  • After a few weeks of haziness I started to become more aware of went down and worked through some tough shit in my head.
  • I’m now starting my chemo and radiation treatment.
  • I have no idea how much longer I have left to live, and I’m trying not to think about it in those terms. I have each day I have and I want each to be a great day where the people I’m around know that I love and respect them sooo much.

So that sums up the bigger points.

One Comment

  1. Jessi

    Man, do I wish I could say I always have your outlook. You are awesome, kind, brave, strong, and I admire that so much. I guess I have always dealt with my illness, and used to hate how people would say “But your so young to be dealing with so much.” I always felt like, why anyone, baby, chilld, teen, young adult, adult, it is unfair at any age. But I guess you could call me more of a realist, which is why I have always wanted to know the facts about all the systemic problems my disease is and has caused, so I can get on with it, if the truth is it may make my life shorter, make my dream of being a Mom not happen, may rob me of quality of life more and more, tell me so I can deal with it, and try to keep living. Try and not dwell on it, but know the facts, and be thankful for what it isn’t and deal with what is.
    Hospital Time: Your parents and Jodi, and you in “spirit” in your own way, have always come to the hospital no matter what. I’d be in there in the ER and in one call, would soon have the nurse saying I had two to four or more people in the waiting area and could come back to visit one at a time, or sometimes more. It has always meant so much to me the role you and your family have played in my life, you are like the brother I never had, Jodi like my little sister. While being in the ER having all sorts of scans, tests, and yes, lots of needles(do you have a PICC Line or Port, INR level checks can be a pain but make you less of a pin cushion) but while the ER is not really the best place to visit, to know you have those who love you beyond words around to help any way they can, even if it is just quietly being there, can be a little comfort. Never feel the need to talk, visit, and rest those eyes as much as you’d like!!!!!
    The day you ended up in the ER, then moved quickly to the Neurosurgery Unit, we struggled with the decision to come up, but while we knew you’d be tired from the long day of tests, our Hearts said “Go”, and you were feeling super bad when you got back from your scan, and knew you needed some quiet time, we were at least able to tell you we loved you and were there for extra support.
    Home Time: We are one of those types that needs a bit of warning before having company, even though your more family so it isn’t so much like company/visitors, we still like to have a bit of warning. We have tried to not call too much, I never knew about this blog, so we’ve been in contact with your Mom, Dad, and Jodi, for updates. I was able to talk to Alex a short time, but you were getting your radiation so I didn’t keep her.
    But I do hope we are able to get together with you sometime soon, somehow. We love you dearly and if there is anything we can do at all please let us know. You hold a special place in our hearts.
    You are one of my hero’s. You have our number, day or night. We love you,
    June and Jessi

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