My Father’s Story

I lost my father 20 years ago, November 10, 2002, to glioblastoma. I was a child then and remembered my father was relatively normal one day, and then sick the next. It was five days before my 11th birthday, and we received a call that my dad had collapsed in the parking lot of his work. We rushed to the hospital — a cancer diagnosis not even crossing our minds. After several tests, they diagnosed my father with stage 4 glioblastoma.

With me being so young, I didn’t really fathom what this meant. It was explained to my family and me that even with aggressive treatment, six months was all he had left with us. I remember my father being the brave man that he was and telling us that he was going to make it to my eighth grade graduation and that this diagnosis wasn’t going to stop him. My father spent the next couple of months trying every treatment you could imagine, but sadly, this cancer was too strong for him.

His symptoms ranged from headaches, trouble writing his name, and issues with speech in the beginning, to changes in personality, and eventually falling into a coma in the end.

Though this cancer claimed his life in the end, it did not claim his spirit. My father fought bravely and truly until the very end, and I’m honored to continue his fight ever since to ensure that hopefully one day, no family or individual will have to succumb to this terrible disease ever again. My father’s biggest dream was to survive and live to watch my sister, brother, and myself grow up. I’m honored to continue his dream to fight for more time, for more birthdays, for life. ❤️

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Opinions expressed within this story belong solely to the author and do not reflect the views or opinions of the National Brain Tumor Society.