Help Rod Nordland face brain cancer

My name is Leila. For the past five years, I've been caring for Rod, the love of my life, as he battles glioblastoma – grade 4, incurable brain cancer. Most people diagnosed with glioblastoma don’t survive a year, yet Rod has fought on. Now, after half a decade of survival, he no longer has the means to support himself. He can't even pay for all his food.

This fundraiser is for Rod, to ensure he can live the last part of his life with dignity. It's also for me – so I can care for him and stay by his side.

The reality of glioblastoma

Glioblastoma attacks body and mind. It is relentless – there is no cure. Since Rod’s diagnosis, we have lived with the knowledge that at any moment, it could defy treatment and spread rapidly, killing him within weeks. With every MRI brain scan, Rod faces the possibility that the treatment has stopped working and his time is up.

We haven't given in to despair or self-pity but have lived fiercely through the most extreme of days. Early on, we decided to face death and whatever came before it with courage and open eyes.

What this disease has asked of us

Even so, we have faced a lot, including deep financial instability and multiple traumas. I have watched Rod nearly die more than once, uncertain if he would survive the night. We have endured neurological extremes, seizures, falls, countless ER visits, and the loss of everything that once defined us.

How it began

In 2019, Rod was a foreign correspondent for The New York Times. While working in Delhi he collapsed in the street with a seizure. A stranger took him to the hospital. I was at home in London when I got the call – I flew to his side. He was medivacked to New York for brain surgery, and has remained there for treatment ever since.

Rod now lives with severe disability after brain surgery on his right parietal lobe. He has limited use of the left side of his body. His proprioception (awareness of where the body is in space) and balance are damaged. This puts him at constant risk of falls and injury. He uses a wheelchair and requires 24-hour care, seven days a week.

Why we need help

We have done everything we can to survive, but after five years of severe disability, and with Rod now unable to work, he has run out of money. His small income is insufficient to cover even his monthly expenses. He receives food stamps and relies on donated food. He is in a debt management program.

Rod spent much of his savings on home care after his last brain surgery. Cancer has cleaned out his resources. He has no assets. He has large legal bills. In December, we fought to keep a roof over his head as he faced eviction from his rented apartment.

I’ve had to put my career aside to focus on Rod’s care. I supervise home care, medical appointments, medications, household and admin. I advocate for him. In fact, I carry out, alone, the work that a team of people would normally do. I've managed the money as well as I could but now I have to ask for help.

Our last fight

Since the tumor began to grow again in 2023, Rod has endured a punishing regimen of immunotherapy, chemotherapy, tumor-treating fields, Avastin (which starves the tumors of oxygen) and anti-seizure drugs. Rod is an experiment of one, a survivor in the one percent of those who last this long. But survival is a daily war.

Rod’s life and legacy

Rod is a beautiful and brave human being. He has loved, mentored and helped people throughout his life. Though a well-known journalist, he came from poverty not privilege. He survived a criminal, abusive father who beat him regularly as a child, to build himself into an admired foreign correspondent. He’s given so much to the world through his brilliant reporting and courageous truth-telling.

Rod's book Waiting for the Monsoon, written after his diagnosis, shows the beauty of his spirit and the courage with which he has faced this disease. I know there will be many out there who would want to help him – who wouldn’t want to see him destitute.

How you can help

No amount is too small. Every donation makes a real difference.

Your kindness will provide Rod with the comfort and peace he deserves during this incredibly difficult time. It will also support me in my all-consuming role as his caregiver.

Thank you for standing with us.