The Brain Story

This story will start in 2019. It was a tough year for me…

I was let go from my first ever big boy job at the end of 2018. I started at this company as an intern and was given several responsibilities as I moved full-time. On top of that I was able to travel the world for work which was such a blessing. I was mad, angry, even bitter because of losing my job… at least I thought that was the only reason.

I started having migraines right before Easter of 2019. The first few that I had were really rough, but I was able to find that a few Advil, an Exedrin, and a hot shower would make them much easier to deal with. A lot of people in my family have chronic migraines, my mom in particular, so it was reasonable to think it was hereditary… at least I thought that was the only reason.

I worked at a golf course most of 2019 as I felt that I should take my time and not just look for the next job, but look for the right job. Having to get to work at 6:00 in the morning and do tough work to make the golf course look as well as I can, in the summer heat nonetheless, was not easy. I loved getting to watch sunrises and be out in nature, but I came home from work so tired a lot of days that I didn’t want to hang out with my friends or family… at least I thought that was the only reason.

I had been leading a group of students at my church since they were in 6th grade. I love those boys and they have felt like little brothers to me as long as I have known them. Getting to lead them was such a blessing, and in 2019 they graduated high school. On the last night of our last summer camp together, I bawled like a baby. I was really sad… at least I thought that was the only reason.

My family and I became annual passholders at Disney World in 2019. That sounds pretty awesome, right? It was. Going to Disney 6 times in 2019 was amazing. But while I was able to be at Disney so much, I constantly wanted to rush around and was very irritated and frustrated if things didn’t go as planned. There’s so much to do in Disney and we have to do it all every time… at least I thought that was the only reason.

On top of that, my Grandmother died, I went through several interviews and felt like I was beating my head against the wall trying to find the right job, among several other things. My personality was changing and I was taking it out on my family and best friends. It was a lot in a year… at least I thought that was the only reason.

Then comes 2020. New year. New decade. The Roarin’ Twenties. I was hopeful… But I had no idea what was about to hit me.

In January 2020, I started having constant auras. I was used to auras because I had them at the start of my migraines, but they wouldn’t go away. In February I went to Disney World with some of my best friends and told them that if I grabbed them getting off a ride to not be scared… it was just because I couldn’t see for a moment and they needed to guide me.

Finally early in March, I went to my eye doctor to have him take a look at things. He saw that my optic nerves were very swollen and immediately sent me to a Neuro-Opthamologist to get it checked out. He agreed based on what he saw and we scheduled an MRI of my brain for April 1 to see what was going on.

In the meantime, I had finally found a new job. I was so happy to finally get into the marketing world again and was looking forward to make an impact for the company. Plus, one of my best friends’ office was only two buildings down the road. We planned for the start date to also be April 1.

And then…

On Monday, March 30, I started feeling so bad that I laid down on the couch, which was pretty unusual for me as a healthy 25 year-old. I had had a migraine each day for the past few days so I figured it was just another migraine and it would go away… but then the last thing I remember was hearing my mom upstairs in the shower and my brother, Austin, upstairs on the phone for work.

From what I’ve been told, Mom and Austin found me having a seizure on the couch and immediately called 911. After I had another seizure, the EMTs took me straight to the ER. With coronavirus starting to get more intense, my dad was the only one allowed to come too. After having a CT and an MRI, the doctors called Mom and Austin to come to the hospital as well. My family was told that I had a baseball-sized tumor on the left side of my brain.

The next thing I remember is waking up in my room, alone, in the Neuro ICU the next day. At 12:00am on March 31, Kennestone Hospital kicked out every visitor because of the spread of the coronavirus. I don’t remember much from that day, but I do remember one of my neurosurgeons walking in and explaining to me that I had a brain tumor and would be having surgery the next day to remove a lot of it. My response? Peace. Comfort. Faith. Seriously.

Instead of starting a new job on the morning of April 1, 2020, I had my first brain surgery to remove about 75% of my tumor. Needless to say, I also didn’t need the originally scheduled MRI that afternoon. I don’t remember a whole lot over the next few days, but when I finally got my phone the next day I do remember that I had around 250 texts alone. 250. I was overwhelmed. For having to lay in a hospital room by myself, without my family even allowed in, seeing so many texts, messages, and even voicemails was so comforting.

On Saturday the 4th, I was discharged from the hospital. Being pushed out of the hospital to Mom, Dad and Austin picking me up was one of my most relieving, comforting moments I can remember. Pulling up to the house, I was “greeted” by sidewalk chalk that our neighbor’s kids drew all over our driveway as well as a Superman balloon tied to the mailbox by my best friend and his wife. Even in a locked down season, people were still able to support me more than ever. I remember walking in, our dog was all but terrified of me… and I can’t blame him given that he was looking at a human he thought he knew but had half of his hair shaved with staples in his head and hadn’t showered in almost a week.

Over the next couple weeks, I spent most of my time on my recovery couch spot that the family had made up for me. I determinedly worked to build my walking strength, had my 46 staples removed, and (because of the pandemic) had several front porch visits with friends who wanted to come and see me. People reached out to me constantly and written notes filled our mailbox every day. The boys that I had led at church even buzzed their heads to look like mine. I was recovering from surgery really really well and we were waiting to hear my tumor’s pathology results.

On April 29th, we found out that my tumor was a grade 3, cancerous tumor. Because only 75% of my tumor was removed due to its location and the hope for it to be lower grade, I was told that they were going to need to go back in in a few days and remove as much as they possibly could of what was left as well as have radiation and chemo pills after surgery recovery. We walked out of the room stunned. We didn’t know what to say. But we all felt peace and comfort that wasn’t from us. Again… Seriously.

The night before my second surgery was the hardest night of my life. I had been recovering well, I was able to walk a mile and a half already, pain had subsided, I was starting to be able to feel a little more normal… and then we were about to have to start all that over. I remember getting in the shower sobbing knowing I was going to have my brain cut open again, by myself; when I got out of the shower though, my phone was filled with texts of people telling me how much they were praying for me and how much they love me. Jesus led my friends to reach out right when I needed it most.

Waking up on May 5th, even knowing I was going to be dropped off at the door by my family, I felt a weird, overflowing comfort. When the time came, we took off for the hospital. Our neighbors all stood out in their yards waving at me and saying kind things to me as we pulled out. Then, as we were turning into the hospital, I saw a bunch of people holding signs outside the main entrance. My first thought was: Why are these people protesting the hospital?! But as we got closer, I was able to see that it was my friends standing with signs with my name on them. They were there to show me how much they loved me, even when they couldn’t actually enter the hospital. After having my friends pray over me and hugging my family, I walked in confidently. Boldly. And honestly, not even scared. All because of my friends’ prayer with my family and I.

Coming out of the second surgery, I felt like I didn’t miss a beat. They took out around 20% more of the tumor, totaling it to 90–95% of my baseball-sized tumor gone. If I remember right, I felt so normal coming out of surgery that I FaceTimed my family as soon as I got into my hospital room. My fears of recovery “starting over” were proven wrong quickly because I was able to get moving way quicker than after the first surgery, and that is all because of prayer. Prayer works.

I went home on the Friday of Mother’s Day weekend and on Saturday (the day after I got home!), I rode with mom and Austin to take some supplies to our church that they were going to distribute to those in need. As soon as our church’s staff realized that it was us, they basically swarmed our car to see me. Some even ran over to see us. I will never forget the number of people who came to see me, told me how they had been praying for me, and showed me how much they cared for me. I was exhausted with so much interaction so quickly, but I was so content.

Skipping ahead because the next few weeks were very similar to the weeks after the first surgery and the few weeks after that were a lot of waiting, on June 29th I began my first day of radiation. I went in feeling pretty anxious of laying on a table with a face mask molded to my head bolted in so I couldn’t move my face, but I quickly got used to it. I got to know my amazing nurses quickly and honestly looked forward to seeing them every day.

Every morning of radiation days, I received a video from a couple of my family members or friends. Videos showing me how much they are with me, even when they can’t physically be with me. After the first couple days and when the videos kept coming, I figured out that without saying anything my mom had created this set up to support me every day. One week was almost all from people from high school… friends, teachers, and coaches, even some that I haven’t spoken to or seen in a few years. While every single one of the 94 videos I received encouraged me so much, that week was extra special because of how apparent it was that my high school people still to this day care about me that much. I am trying to portray just how much these videos meant, but I can sum it up by saying that these videos carried me through all 33 days of radiation.

On August 13th, I rang the bell as I walked out of my last radiation treatment. But I didn’t ring it alone. I rang it with my nurses. I rang it with my family. And I rang it with a whole bunch of my friends who were able to come and celebrate it with me. (I had sent out a text to a lot of people asking them to come… but all of those people had already planned to come together behind my back. Amazing.) It is still to this day really hard to describe those feelings, but the closest words I can think of are relief and joy. Done with one of the biggest pieces of curing brain cancer.

A couple days after my birthday I had my first MRI after treatment and on September 2nd, I received the best news I have ever received: clean scans. From a baseball-sized tumor lodged in my head to a clean, clear, empty space in 5 months. I’m so thankful for my doctors and nurses. I’m so thankful for my family. I’m so thankful for my friends. I’m so thankful for my God.

So where are we now? I can tell you as I type this that even though we are done with most of the big things, getting rid of brain cancer is not over. Right now, I am in the middle of the maintenance phase, the final piece of treatment, which consists of taking chemo pills for one week every four weeks. If everything goes as scheduled, my last week will be in July 2021. I also have battles both physically and mentally as I still am recovering from having a tumor taken out of my head.

But even as we are still in the middle of the mess, I feel so incredibly thankful. I have said it a few times to friends and on socials, but in the weirdest way ever I consider this process a blessing. I am a better person now than I was before this process. I’ve learned that I can handle more than I thought I could and I’m stronger than I thought I was. But none of that is directly from me. None of this incredible recovery of two brain surgeries and some cancer treatment is because I am great. It is all because of specific prayer from people across the world. It is all because of the God who runs the universe, the God who I trust in and surrender to daily. Without Him, I would not be where I am today. And even with all of this, He is not finished. He’s just getting started.

Show me one thing He can’t do.