My husband was away for two weeks in Sturgis, SD, in August 2022. The first week went well for him — riding his Harley all around SD. During the second week, fellow bike riders were texting me that he was not himself. He was sleeping a lot and taking Tylenol like it was candy.
He made it home August 15 at 5:30 a.m., and I met him at the door. The left side of his lips were droopy, and he said he had a sore on his lip causing that. I did not believe him, so I told him to rest up while I go to work.
The next morning, he woke up complaining of a headache that felt like his head was going to explode. So not normal. He was working from home, so I said to rest again, for I had to work.
I came home and he was lying down, shivering something bad, and talking nonsense. I was thinking perhaps stroke for his lips were droopy again. Off to the hospital we went. Long story short … they thought stroke also. Had a CT scan and took him by ambulance to UPMC Presby in Pittsburgh.
Here is where it all began. Diagnosed with a mass the size of a lemon in the left frontal lobe … glioblastoma. He was in the neuro ICU for almost a week, running fevers and not really responsive. Tons of antibiotics later, he had a craniotomy, and of cours,e the neurosurgeon confirmed GBM and not all was able to be removed. I took him home three days later. He remembered nothing at all.
Weeks later of healing, he began oral chemo and radiation treatments under the doctor’s care of the Hillman Clinic oncology. The doctor then told us to get our affairs in order, for this is a cancer that cannot be cured.
But to no avail, it returned after all was taken. Off to the Cleveland Clinic for trial meds. Same thing happened … it kept returning. NOTHING helped him at all. They cancelled trial meds for him. One last thing was radiation again, only and I truly think this made it worse for him. He never recovered from this and ended up in the ICU unit at IRMC Indiana, and then was released to me under hospice, where he passed away at home. I told him that he was going home and no more treatments for him. He said no more, and I said no more. When he got home, there was a hospital bed in the living room, and he was so, so happy to be home.
I so miss him dearly. A long 17 months struggle for him from day one.
