Terry's Battle with a Glioblastoma Brain Tumor

Amazing Father, Devoted Husband & Cherished Friend

The Battle Begins: On August 25th, my father, Terry, was admitted to the emergency room due to extremely painful headaches. He had been having them for a few weeks and figured they were just stress headaches. My father is the hardest worker I know, regularly getting just a few hours of sleep a night due to his devotion to his work and clients. When the headaches persisted, and the left side of his mouth started to droop, my mom knew it was more than a stress headache. She insisted he go to the emergency room. All of the tests conducted in the ER (chest, heart, etc.) showed a healthy 57-year-old man, with the exception of the brain scan. A very large tumor was found in the right frontal lobe. The biopsy results indicated that it is the most deadly and aggressive tumor one can have, called a “Glioblastoma,” for which there is no cure. His initial surgeon strongly recommended no surgery and suggested chemo and radiation to give my dad more time and make him comfortable in his last days. With this information, our family began to process what this would mean for my dad and our family. During that week at home, his left side began to weaken more, and he needed assistance with daily tasks such as walking, dressing, sitting down, etc. Both his left arm and leg had been impacted. Even though the effects of the tumor were devastating, my dad, being who he is at the core, continued to be strong and express his hope for the future.

Photos taken August 29th, 2022 at hospital before biopsy (left image - my dad texted us a selfie smiling and told us "don't worry"):

Photos taken after the biopsy (right image - me with my dad as he recovered at home):

Moving Forward with Bravery: On August 29th, my mom decided to get my dad out of the house, and with my brother’s assistance got him to Corner Bakery Cafe – a nearby breakfast place. When getting out of the car, my dad felt incredible pain on the right side of his head, so my mom and brother rushed him to the nearest emergency room (UCSD). A CT scan showed bleeding on the brain, so he was again admitted. Thankfully, the surgeons all agreed that the tumor was operable, but would likely come back. They said if they removed it, they would follow with four weeks of chemo and radiation. This could have the potential to extend his life by weeks or months. Dad was given the option of a risky surgery or no surgery, and he chose surgery; he chose to fight this thing.

The surgical team planned to use fluorescent dye and mapping to remove at least 95% of the tumor, and would then use radiation and chemo to treat the rest. All was good, and the plan was set. Then, the day before the surgery, dad suffered what they called a “massive brain hemorrhage” in the early morning hours, along with a small stroke. That morning, a surgeon called my mom at 6:30 am and told her that my dad had undergone a severe brain hemorrhage and that his chances for a successful brain surgery weren’t promising. He also mentioned if we proceeded with the surgery, he could end up needing constant care in a nursing home for the duration of his life. He recommended the family come and see dad immediately.

When we arrived, my dad was propped up in his ICU bed and hooked up to a ventilator. The nurses said he was in a medically induced coma. While surrounding my dad in a room full of tears, another surgeon came in and offered his perspective. He said that we could go ahead and try to remove the tumor; however, this would be more of a life-saving surgery to stop the hemorrhaging and to remove what pieces of the tumor they could see. Rather than the detailed surgery to remove 95% of the tumor that was previously planned. My mom asked the surgeon if this was his brother or dad, what would he do? His response was, “Yes, I’d have the surgery.” At that point, the surgeon on call (who would be doing the surgery) came in and said, “so are we doing this?” My dad, who was supposed to be in a medically induced coma, slowly raised his thumb up. Seeing his response changed the game, as everyone knew he wanted to fight for his life. As the surgical team rushed off to prep, our family gathered around and prayed over him for God to save his life and bless us with a miracle.

After six long hours of waiting in his ICU room, the six of us were thrilled to hear the news that the surgery was a success and that 90% of the tumor was removed. With a breathing tube, feeding tube, and a cluster of hoses attached to my dad, he wasn’t able to talk to us, but he would pat his heart to say he loved us.

The next day, he was able to wiggle his right toes and right fingers, which was a very good sign; however, his left side was not responsive. He was mentally sharp and above all remained positive. He thanked my mom for everything and said he loves her and would do the work to get better. His optimism in the face of such adversity was so incredible.

On September 14th, my parents celebrated their 31st anniversary in the ICU. My dad face-timed his sister (my aunt) and asked her go to one of his favorite local florists so he could pick out flowers for a bouquet for my mom. He specifically asked for red roses mixed with white daisies, as white daisies reminded him of the flowers on their wedding day (her wedding bouquet was primarily comprised of white daisies). The ICU wouldn’t allow flowers, so we sent my dad a picture of my mom with the flowers he got her. Below is the picture of mom and dad in the ICU on their 31st anniversary (Sept. 14th) and a picture of the anniversary message that he used all of his strength to write in a card. He was so proud of the life he’d built with my mom. He loved her more than life and made the comment, “We did it!” about his life with her.

Photos taken September 14th, 2022 the day of my parent's 31st Anniversary:

Dad's "Love of my life, we did it!" Anniversary Message he wrote to Mom in the ICU:

The Final Day of Battle: During his final day (two days ago on September 19th), mom spent the day at the hospital with dad. They waited patiently to meet with the speech pathologist and physical therapy team. Around 3:45 p.m. the physical therapy team finally arrived, and at that same time, mom stepped outside into the hallway to meet with the case manager. When returning to dad’s room, the physical therapy team was having him move from a sitting position on the edge of the bed to laying down in bed. As dad laid down, he turned toward mom. He started huffing and puffing, trying to get enough air to breathe. She tried to get him to calm down so he could catch his breath, but the breathing continued to be labored and then the color rushed from his face. My mom grabbed his arms and told my dad that she loved him. Unable to speak, he patted his heart.

Photos taken the morning of September 19th, 2022 getting rest before physical therapy:

Soon after, the code red medical team rushed in and worked to resuscitate him for 30 minutes. While they were able to get a pulse a few times, he couldn’t maintain it on his own. After 30 minutes, they stopped and let him rest. It was apparent that his soul was already home.

Throughout my life and in light of his final days, what I can conclude with certainty is that my dad was the BEST of the BEST. He never gave up, stayed positive (even in the darkest of times), and simply LOVED life.

During the three weeks that he lived since being diagnosed with this deadly tumor, dad was so touched by the outpouring of prayers from his friends, family, clients, fraternity brothers, neighbors, PLNU campus community, and numerous prayer chain groups. He commented several times that he could feel the prayers. He had such a fun-loving spirit, and for those of you who knew him, you know exactly what I am talking about. His love for life was so contagious that it has made an impact on all those who knew him. He taught my brothers and me how to have fun through being intentional about carving out time for adventures, whether that be camping in Yosemite or snowboarding in Mammoth. He had a “work hard, play hard” mentality, and we will continue to keep his spirit alive by carving out time to go on adventures with our family.

Mountain biking the Flume Trail, Lake Tahoe on June 19th, 2022:

Dad was also a very spiritual man. He loved God and knew that this life on earth was just temporary. During his last few days in the hospital, he told my mom that having dinner with our family was the best part of his day. This was because he loved praying with us and having each member of the family share our “high” for the day and “low” for the day. He also told her how proud he was of us kids. He said he couldn’t have had a better life. Family was at the core of his being.

His love for family was also noticed by the neurosurgery team. A residency student and several neurosurgeons commented that his death had hit the team hard, as they could tell just by knowing him a few days that he was an incredible person and they had never seen such a close family bond. They said seeing us pray over him before surgery and speak with great transparency about how much we love him was something they didn’t witness often. My mom told the surgeons that he gave his love so freely to others that it was just natural for others to give that love back to him. They said that he must be such a special man to have so many people gather around him to pray and share their words of love with him.

Moving Forward: Our family is still feeling like all that has happened is surreal and awake in the morning hoping it was all a bad dream. My mom described feeling a heaviness on her chest and an emptiness at the same time. We know that in time it will get better and that he is in a better place. We also know that he lives on through us. I started this GoFundMe account because people have been reaching out to see what they can do. At a difficult time like this, our family asks for your prayers for perseverance and peace. Beyond that, and only if you are able, any assistance to cover the cost of medical bills, consultations, etc. would be so appreciated. In seeking the best possible treatment, we paid out of pocket for consultations with top neurosurgeons from UCLA and UCSD to name a few. These expenses, combined with the fact that dad could not work for nearly a month and is no longer able to contribute to monthly bills has added stress to an already difficult time.

If you can help lessen this burden, we would greatly appreciate it. Every little bit helps. Whether or not you are able to contribute, please keep us in your prayers during this difficult time.

Thank you for your prayers and support.

Olivia