In September 1999 I was a 22-year-old senior in college when my brain tumor was discovered. On the operating table for a craniotomy shortly after, I should've died from a massive brain hemorrhage that happened during surgery, but it was not my time and the nightmarish three-week sentence in the ICU that followed was not simply random punishment. A test of both will and fight, it was specific preparation about the mindset required to survive the darkest days, most difficult challenges, and unforeseen detours ahead. 

Over the years I've had countless months of maintenance drugs and chemotherapies such as temodar,tamoxifen, procarbazine, carrnustine, vincristine, lomustine, avastin, and, keytruda. In conjunction with the treatment drugs I've had eight brain surgeries and 65 rounds of brain radiation.

1999: craniotomy #1

2003: craniotomy #2  

2003-2004: 30 rounds of brain radiation 

2008: craniotomy #3

2014: brain biopsy #1

2015: brain biopsy #2

2016: craniotomy #4

2017: 30 rounds of brain radiation 

2018: craniotomy #5

2019: brain shunt surgery and five condensed rounds of brain radiation

At age 42 for almost half my life I've been on a journey searching for my ultimate destination, a life free of cancer. I set off on this journey with only unanswerable questions and hope. Without a map guiding me, constantly getting lost and believing that no progress was being made became maddeningly frustrating and painfully disheartening. Feeling that every tomorrow would be identical, not a step closer to my destination was overwhelming but I never lost hope. As the days turned into weeks and then into months I began to understand that getting lost was simply part of the  process and the unanswerable questions would forever exist if I let them. When I finally accepted there was never going to be a map perfectly guiding me towards my ultimate destination it led to the discovery that what I needed most had been with me from the first steps and it changed my life forever.

When I began trusting my internal compass it provided direction I continue to follow, and after 20 years instead of thinking about how far I still have to go on this journey I'm resting for a brief second to appreciate how far I've come. In celebration of being a 20-year brain cancer survivor I'll be running a10K with a goal of raising $10,000 for Gilda's Club Kentuckiana. The support from family, friends, and Gilda's Club was my internal compass and that is why I'm alive today. But this run will look and feel different after a tumor was discovered on my cerebellum months ago directly affecting my balance. Often needing a cane while walking to steady my balance I'll be running the entire 6.2 miles with cane in hand. Definitely not a fashion statement and relying on it to prevent a fall, it is a statement proving that when living and surviving with cancer the impossible is always possible. (Even if it means looking like a marching band leader carrying a giant baton;)

Your donations will help Gilda's positively impact and change the lives of anyone touched by cancer, just as it did mine. Thank you for your donation and making a difference.

Tyler