The Gemmell Family Needs Your Help!
Donation protected
Patrick Gemmell’s Family needs your help!
Cancer has taken a magnificent, creative, capable, hardworking, friend, coach, father, husband, brother, and son, Patrick Gemmell. He touched so many lives in so many ways. He was always so generous of his time and self - always the first to say, “I’ll be there. You can count on me.”
Family was everything to Patrick. In losing this amazing man, it now leaves his wife, Connie and their 2 beautiful girls to cope and create their new normal without their husband and father. If this isn’t enough, Patrick’s Glioblastoma diagnosis, surgeries and treatments over the course of 2 ½ years, meant less income.
Connie and the girls face an impossible mountain to climb. Not only did cancer take him to soon at age 52 - but in its wake, it left some pretty hefty medical bills. In addition, he was physically unable to maintain their home, and it broke his heart to see the home he so beautifully crafted, deteriorate. Both of these mountains will require considerable financial support. It felt like a very long 2 ½ years.
Patrick’s energy and enthusiasm for living his best life came from within him. Since the day he was born, he lived out loud. His schoolmates say, “I remember him always as happy go lucky. Everyone’s friend. Always an optimist.”
His fun-loving, playful side fueled his love of riding his Harley and planning amazing bike trips. Through his passion of riding he formed many ironclad friendships. His riding buddies say, “Because of him, we are so much more than just friends who ride. We are family. That is how close our group is.”
He found ways to express living his best life by working with his hands. His hobbies of building, repairing, and creating brought him great joy. The things he made still stand today and will for many years to come. While his day job was engineering, he applied critical thinking and a can-do attitude to all his projects – home or otherwise.
Patrick and Connie were optimistic and upbeat at every turn, at every curve ball. Never once did they lose hope or get angry. They have so graciously and humbly crossed each bridge with courage, love and the determination to win.
We hope you will consider donating to ease the burden for Connie and the girls. We encourage you will share his story and know that no donation is too small. He may have lost his fight with cancer, but with your help, his family will avoid financial difficulty.
We cannot express how grateful we are to be a part of such a wonderful caring community. If you would like to read more details about Patrick’s 2 ½ year journey, continue reading below.
Thank you, truly.
Patrick loved his family. Plain and simple. His favorite occasions centered around family activities whether it was coaching, vacations, holidays, or reunions. Our country’s Independence Day especially held high regard for him. His patriotism and deep respect for sacrifices made by so many before him galvanized this holiday as truly special.
It was during a Gemmell family reunion on the weekend of our country’s Independence celebration in July 2016 that changed all of our lives forever, so very profoundly.
Patrick loved to cook and had started a big pot of all-day pasta sauce. While kids played outside and family tended to the things that families tend to on such weekends, Patrick made the house smell magnificent. During a discussion of the finer points of ziplining with his nephew Connor, Patrick had his first episode. It looked like he was choking on a bite of cheese and crackers. After a terrifying 20 minutes that included the Heimlich, a loss of consciousness and the faintest of breathing, he regained consciousness as EMS arrived.
A trip to the Emergency Room yielded very little. The doc speculated he had experienced a laryngeal spasm. For his efforts that day, Patrick also got a lovely black eye. That Heimlich was quite dramatic. In the scheme of things, yielding a laryngeal spasm and a black eye would have been a blessing.
Before leaving Pennsylvania for home, Patrick had another episode. This time he managed to stay conscious and convey that he did not want to go to the ER. Reluctantly, the family allowed him to power through it. As he did the first time, he came back around. Needless to say, Connie didn’t let him drive back to NC.
It was after his third episode at breakfast one morning back in NC where he felt it coming, laid his head down and came to moments later, that he self-diagnosed that he was having seizures. While at work that morning, he made an appointment with his doc during lunch time. Since the doc wouldn’t let him drive, his best friend and colleague, Greg, drove him to the appointment. The doc agreed. Seizures could be a reasonable supposition.
After tests and while having lunch across the street from where he just had his appointment, he felt another seizure coming on. As he gripped the edges of the table, he said to his friend, “You ready? Here we go.” Fortunately, Greg is well versed in Grand Mal seizures and knew just what to do. He got Patrick gently to the floor and held him, so he wouldn’t injure himself. Back across the street they went. This time he earned an MRI with contrast. That’s what happens when you freak out the good folks in Cary restaurants.
A Grand Mal seizure and an image positive MRI gets a person an immediate trip to Surgical Oncology. The time from first episode in Pennsylvania to Wake Medical Oncology was a little less than one week.
His Neurosurgeon had great news! He was able to remove all of it! He speculated the tumor was “mid-grade” and sent it off for testing. Meanwhile, he wanted Patrick to start chemo and radiation to get any remaining cells lurking in his brain. His staff would follow up with an appointment time at UNC.
When the results came back as Glioblastoma it was only Patrick whose spirits remained high. He was completely and utterly confident he would beat the man killer. He brought us all back from the brink of despair. His joy for life and zeal to beat it took root in all of us, whether it was his medical team, family, friends, or complete strangers.
Unfortunately, a lot of time went by before his surgeon’s staff got an appointment at UNC - in week 6 post-op. That day was a gauntlet of meetings with a sundry of oncology staff, all with a rehearsed spiel. Each mini-session ended by asking if we had any questions. Each time, at about question two, the answer was always the same, “You’ll have to ask the oncologist. You’ll meet him at the end of the day.”
Our hearts sank lower and lower as we began to lose confidence in UNC. They were treating Patrick as though he had absolutely no hope. They regarded him, not as a person, but as a lost cause that can pay for only a bit more time with standard run of the mill cancer treatments. They refused to discuss options or immunotherapy trials. We were exhausted and wary of UNC’s ability.
It was the oncologist, at the end of the day, that made the next decision easy. At about question 2 he sat back in his chair, peered down his nose over his spectacles, crossed his arms, paused and said in a fatherly authoritative tone, “Now, you’re going to have to get your affairs in order.”
This sparked an anger in all of us. The decision – nuts to that! Immediately and through week 7, Patrick reached out to friends who might have an “in” at Duke. Through the generosity of friends and wonderful staff at Duke, they were able to see him the following week – week 8.
The experience at Duke was night and day different. Where UNC was darkness and gloom, Duke is hope and options. Where UNC regarded Patrick as just another dying patient who wants something, Duke embraced him and was honored to be chosen to help him live his best life.
Week 9 brought Patrick’s second surgery, this time with renowned Surgeon Dr. Friedman. In those 9 weeks of time the tumor went from size 0 to the size of a racquetball. Take a moment to think about that. 9 weeks’ growth. While Patrick continued to work and take care of his family, the tumor fed off his good health, his strength, his vitality.
After his surgery, Patrick came up swinging - his joie de vivre more potent than ever. Duke has an arsenal of treatments and aren’t afraid of brain cancer. It was a perfect partnership, sure to be successful. With the racquetball gone once again, the playing field was reset.
It was after this second surgery when the real journey began. The care team at Duke explained that with this type of tumor, surgery can’t get all the cells, nor could it have in the first surgery. It’s just not possible. Each cancer cell left behind has the capacity to regrow the tumor and that he wasn’t out of the woods. Glio’s are called man killers for good reason. They take down our planet’s fiercest predators with ease. His best chances were to get into a medical trial.
Coming out of his second surgery at a very healthy age of 50, he was fortunate to qualify for a new immunotherapy trial just starting with Duke. This was great news! Duke had just been in the news about their work creating an immunotherapy treatment for cancer using the polio virus. That vaccine was helpful in about 30% of patients in that trial. This new trial used a different virus, but their hopes were to have even better success than with the polio virus.
Hopes and confidence were higher than ever. His regimen included chemo, and radiation in the weeks prior to and during the trial medicines. If that didn’t work, they would start him on the polio vaccine. Duke had a solid plan.
Unfortunately, survival statistics for patients with glioblastomas are bleak and most do not live beyond a year. Patrick’s trial was not successful for him. After we realized the tumor was winning and the trial didn’t work, Duke worked hard with other medicines to shrink the tumor back to a qualifying size for the Polio Vaccine. The tumor worked hard to thwart their efforts.
This part of his journey had severe highs and lows. The medicines and tumor were neck and neck trying to win. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. He was not able to start the Polio Vaccine. In the end, the tumor won.
At the time, the Polio Vaccine treatment for glioblastomas was still very new - still in final trials, in fact. Requesting this treatment right away right after the second surgery, in hindsight, would have been the best option for him. However, based on his body not responding to his immunotherapy trial meant it was unlikely he would have seen positive results with the Polio Vaccine as both approaches use the same fighting tactic- enabling his immune system to recognize and attack the cancer cells.
Patrick’s energy and enthusiasm for living his best life came from within him. Since the day he was born, he lived out loud. His schoolmates say, “I remember him always as happy go lucky. Everyone’s friend. Always an optimist.”
His fun-loving, playful side fueled his love of riding his Harley and planning amazing bike trips. Through his passion of riding he formed many ironclad friendships. His riding buddies say, “Because of him, we are so much more than friends who ride. We are family. That is how close our group is.”
He found ways to express living his best life by working with his hands. His hobbies of building, repairing, and creating brought him great joy. The things he made still stand today and will for many years to come. While his day job was engineering, he applied critical thinking and a can-do attitude to all his projects – home or otherwise.
During the 2 ½ years he fought cancer, he was unable to continue repairs and maintenance on their home. It broke his heart, and all our hearts, to watch as his body diminished - so did the luster he so beautifully crafted into his home.
Cancer took from us a magnificent, creative, capable, hardworking, friend, coach, father, husband, brother, and son. He touched so many. He was generous of his time and self - always the first to say, “I’ll be there. You can count on me.”
Connie and the girls face an impossible mountain to climb. Not only did cancer take him - but in his wake, it gave medical bills and home repair costs that will require considerable financial support.
Patrick and Connie were optimistic and upbeat at every turn, at every curve ball. Never once did they lose hope or get angry. They have so graciously and humbly crossed each bridge with courage, love and the determination to win.
We hope you will consider donating to ease the burden for Connie and the girls. We also hope that you will share his story and know that no donation is too small. Thank You.
Cancer has taken a magnificent, creative, capable, hardworking, friend, coach, father, husband, brother, and son, Patrick Gemmell. He touched so many lives in so many ways. He was always so generous of his time and self - always the first to say, “I’ll be there. You can count on me.”
Family was everything to Patrick. In losing this amazing man, it now leaves his wife, Connie and their 2 beautiful girls to cope and create their new normal without their husband and father. If this isn’t enough, Patrick’s Glioblastoma diagnosis, surgeries and treatments over the course of 2 ½ years, meant less income.
Connie and the girls face an impossible mountain to climb. Not only did cancer take him to soon at age 52 - but in its wake, it left some pretty hefty medical bills. In addition, he was physically unable to maintain their home, and it broke his heart to see the home he so beautifully crafted, deteriorate. Both of these mountains will require considerable financial support. It felt like a very long 2 ½ years.
Patrick’s energy and enthusiasm for living his best life came from within him. Since the day he was born, he lived out loud. His schoolmates say, “I remember him always as happy go lucky. Everyone’s friend. Always an optimist.”
His fun-loving, playful side fueled his love of riding his Harley and planning amazing bike trips. Through his passion of riding he formed many ironclad friendships. His riding buddies say, “Because of him, we are so much more than just friends who ride. We are family. That is how close our group is.”
He found ways to express living his best life by working with his hands. His hobbies of building, repairing, and creating brought him great joy. The things he made still stand today and will for many years to come. While his day job was engineering, he applied critical thinking and a can-do attitude to all his projects – home or otherwise.
Patrick and Connie were optimistic and upbeat at every turn, at every curve ball. Never once did they lose hope or get angry. They have so graciously and humbly crossed each bridge with courage, love and the determination to win.
We hope you will consider donating to ease the burden for Connie and the girls. We encourage you will share his story and know that no donation is too small. He may have lost his fight with cancer, but with your help, his family will avoid financial difficulty.
We cannot express how grateful we are to be a part of such a wonderful caring community. If you would like to read more details about Patrick’s 2 ½ year journey, continue reading below.
Thank you, truly.
Patrick loved his family. Plain and simple. His favorite occasions centered around family activities whether it was coaching, vacations, holidays, or reunions. Our country’s Independence Day especially held high regard for him. His patriotism and deep respect for sacrifices made by so many before him galvanized this holiday as truly special.
It was during a Gemmell family reunion on the weekend of our country’s Independence celebration in July 2016 that changed all of our lives forever, so very profoundly.
Patrick loved to cook and had started a big pot of all-day pasta sauce. While kids played outside and family tended to the things that families tend to on such weekends, Patrick made the house smell magnificent. During a discussion of the finer points of ziplining with his nephew Connor, Patrick had his first episode. It looked like he was choking on a bite of cheese and crackers. After a terrifying 20 minutes that included the Heimlich, a loss of consciousness and the faintest of breathing, he regained consciousness as EMS arrived.
A trip to the Emergency Room yielded very little. The doc speculated he had experienced a laryngeal spasm. For his efforts that day, Patrick also got a lovely black eye. That Heimlich was quite dramatic. In the scheme of things, yielding a laryngeal spasm and a black eye would have been a blessing.
Before leaving Pennsylvania for home, Patrick had another episode. This time he managed to stay conscious and convey that he did not want to go to the ER. Reluctantly, the family allowed him to power through it. As he did the first time, he came back around. Needless to say, Connie didn’t let him drive back to NC.
It was after his third episode at breakfast one morning back in NC where he felt it coming, laid his head down and came to moments later, that he self-diagnosed that he was having seizures. While at work that morning, he made an appointment with his doc during lunch time. Since the doc wouldn’t let him drive, his best friend and colleague, Greg, drove him to the appointment. The doc agreed. Seizures could be a reasonable supposition.
After tests and while having lunch across the street from where he just had his appointment, he felt another seizure coming on. As he gripped the edges of the table, he said to his friend, “You ready? Here we go.” Fortunately, Greg is well versed in Grand Mal seizures and knew just what to do. He got Patrick gently to the floor and held him, so he wouldn’t injure himself. Back across the street they went. This time he earned an MRI with contrast. That’s what happens when you freak out the good folks in Cary restaurants.
A Grand Mal seizure and an image positive MRI gets a person an immediate trip to Surgical Oncology. The time from first episode in Pennsylvania to Wake Medical Oncology was a little less than one week.
His Neurosurgeon had great news! He was able to remove all of it! He speculated the tumor was “mid-grade” and sent it off for testing. Meanwhile, he wanted Patrick to start chemo and radiation to get any remaining cells lurking in his brain. His staff would follow up with an appointment time at UNC.
When the results came back as Glioblastoma it was only Patrick whose spirits remained high. He was completely and utterly confident he would beat the man killer. He brought us all back from the brink of despair. His joy for life and zeal to beat it took root in all of us, whether it was his medical team, family, friends, or complete strangers.
Unfortunately, a lot of time went by before his surgeon’s staff got an appointment at UNC - in week 6 post-op. That day was a gauntlet of meetings with a sundry of oncology staff, all with a rehearsed spiel. Each mini-session ended by asking if we had any questions. Each time, at about question two, the answer was always the same, “You’ll have to ask the oncologist. You’ll meet him at the end of the day.”
Our hearts sank lower and lower as we began to lose confidence in UNC. They were treating Patrick as though he had absolutely no hope. They regarded him, not as a person, but as a lost cause that can pay for only a bit more time with standard run of the mill cancer treatments. They refused to discuss options or immunotherapy trials. We were exhausted and wary of UNC’s ability.
It was the oncologist, at the end of the day, that made the next decision easy. At about question 2 he sat back in his chair, peered down his nose over his spectacles, crossed his arms, paused and said in a fatherly authoritative tone, “Now, you’re going to have to get your affairs in order.”
This sparked an anger in all of us. The decision – nuts to that! Immediately and through week 7, Patrick reached out to friends who might have an “in” at Duke. Through the generosity of friends and wonderful staff at Duke, they were able to see him the following week – week 8.
The experience at Duke was night and day different. Where UNC was darkness and gloom, Duke is hope and options. Where UNC regarded Patrick as just another dying patient who wants something, Duke embraced him and was honored to be chosen to help him live his best life.
Week 9 brought Patrick’s second surgery, this time with renowned Surgeon Dr. Friedman. In those 9 weeks of time the tumor went from size 0 to the size of a racquetball. Take a moment to think about that. 9 weeks’ growth. While Patrick continued to work and take care of his family, the tumor fed off his good health, his strength, his vitality.
After his surgery, Patrick came up swinging - his joie de vivre more potent than ever. Duke has an arsenal of treatments and aren’t afraid of brain cancer. It was a perfect partnership, sure to be successful. With the racquetball gone once again, the playing field was reset.
It was after this second surgery when the real journey began. The care team at Duke explained that with this type of tumor, surgery can’t get all the cells, nor could it have in the first surgery. It’s just not possible. Each cancer cell left behind has the capacity to regrow the tumor and that he wasn’t out of the woods. Glio’s are called man killers for good reason. They take down our planet’s fiercest predators with ease. His best chances were to get into a medical trial.
Coming out of his second surgery at a very healthy age of 50, he was fortunate to qualify for a new immunotherapy trial just starting with Duke. This was great news! Duke had just been in the news about their work creating an immunotherapy treatment for cancer using the polio virus. That vaccine was helpful in about 30% of patients in that trial. This new trial used a different virus, but their hopes were to have even better success than with the polio virus.
Hopes and confidence were higher than ever. His regimen included chemo, and radiation in the weeks prior to and during the trial medicines. If that didn’t work, they would start him on the polio vaccine. Duke had a solid plan.
Unfortunately, survival statistics for patients with glioblastomas are bleak and most do not live beyond a year. Patrick’s trial was not successful for him. After we realized the tumor was winning and the trial didn’t work, Duke worked hard with other medicines to shrink the tumor back to a qualifying size for the Polio Vaccine. The tumor worked hard to thwart their efforts.
This part of his journey had severe highs and lows. The medicines and tumor were neck and neck trying to win. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. He was not able to start the Polio Vaccine. In the end, the tumor won.
At the time, the Polio Vaccine treatment for glioblastomas was still very new - still in final trials, in fact. Requesting this treatment right away right after the second surgery, in hindsight, would have been the best option for him. However, based on his body not responding to his immunotherapy trial meant it was unlikely he would have seen positive results with the Polio Vaccine as both approaches use the same fighting tactic- enabling his immune system to recognize and attack the cancer cells.
Patrick’s energy and enthusiasm for living his best life came from within him. Since the day he was born, he lived out loud. His schoolmates say, “I remember him always as happy go lucky. Everyone’s friend. Always an optimist.”
His fun-loving, playful side fueled his love of riding his Harley and planning amazing bike trips. Through his passion of riding he formed many ironclad friendships. His riding buddies say, “Because of him, we are so much more than friends who ride. We are family. That is how close our group is.”
He found ways to express living his best life by working with his hands. His hobbies of building, repairing, and creating brought him great joy. The things he made still stand today and will for many years to come. While his day job was engineering, he applied critical thinking and a can-do attitude to all his projects – home or otherwise.
During the 2 ½ years he fought cancer, he was unable to continue repairs and maintenance on their home. It broke his heart, and all our hearts, to watch as his body diminished - so did the luster he so beautifully crafted into his home.
Cancer took from us a magnificent, creative, capable, hardworking, friend, coach, father, husband, brother, and son. He touched so many. He was generous of his time and self - always the first to say, “I’ll be there. You can count on me.”
Connie and the girls face an impossible mountain to climb. Not only did cancer take him - but in his wake, it gave medical bills and home repair costs that will require considerable financial support.
Patrick and Connie were optimistic and upbeat at every turn, at every curve ball. Never once did they lose hope or get angry. They have so graciously and humbly crossed each bridge with courage, love and the determination to win.
We hope you will consider donating to ease the burden for Connie and the girls. We also hope that you will share his story and know that no donation is too small. Thank You.
Organizer and beneficiary
Lisa Morris
Organizer
Wake Forest, NC
Connie Gemmell
Beneficiary