Happy Thanksgiving and an Update

Sorry for the time between updates. I’m planning on more regular entries in 2020. You can also follow me on Facebook (I’m the Craig Frost wearing hockey equipment :) ). As we enter the holiday season, I’d like to wish all of you and your families a Happy Thanksgiving.

I had my 9th clear and stable MRI in early November and will have my next MRI on 1/2/20. I will post the results of that scan shortly thereafter. The Optune device remains my only ongoing treatment and I have kept busy attending Optune Ambassador conferences, open houses, and conducting buddy calls for patients that are considering the treatment. I have also been fortunate to share my story during a National Brain Tumor Society fundraising event called Dancing for a Cure that was held in San Jose. No, I did not dance, I left that to the pros. It was a very beautiful event and a great honor. This week, I have been at the Society of Neuro-Oncologists (SNO) conference in Phoenix where I shared my story with doctors and health care providers and manned the Optune booth on the conference floor. Last night, I shared the patient experience with a delegation of neurosurgeons and neuro-oncologists from China, complete with an interpreter. Interesting experience and a reminder that the effort to find a cure is worldwide and that cancer does not discriminate based on any factors.

So, stay healthy, stay present, live in the moment, and hug your dear ones just a bit tighter for me today.

I am so very thankful to all of my family members, friends, and colleagues who have supported me along this journey. May peace, health, and prosperity shine down upon you and all those you hold dear. Peace be with you all.

PS - I will be interviewed on a public radio station (FM 94.1) for a show called Health Matters (I think) on Monday, November 25th from 2 to 3 PM PT. I’m told the broadcast is streamed and the interview will be available in their archives. Tune in if you can and please feel free to provide feedback of all kinds.

Treatment Update

Friends, family and colleagues,

My blood test results reached the values needed for me to take my 12th and final 5 day dose of chemotherapy (Temodar). Night number 1 was last night (Monday, 8/5/19) and things went fine. I will finish Friday night. After that 102nd dose, my treatment will shift to monitoring bi-monthly MRI images and determining any new options based on what is seen therein. Looking forward to an 8th clear and stable scan on 9/3 (review with Neuro-oncologist will be on the 4th or 5th most likely. I continue to feel well, stay active, eat well, and have a positive outlook. I wish all of you peace, health and prosperity for you and all of those you hold dear.

Update as of 7/11/19

After a few week delay waiting for my white blood cells to regenerate again, I have completed 11 of 12 cycles of chemotherapy. Cycle 12 should happen around the end of July/early August. Today, 7/11/19, I received the results from my 7th bi-monthly MRI and I am still clear of any regrowth and everything is considered stable! 7 for 7! FYI, GBM recurs, period. With the bi-monthly MRI schedule, we will find anything concerning at an early stage. There is no remission for GBM, and I have no anxiety about the bugger rearing its ugly head again. When it does, a new plan will be devised to treat it. That could mean back to the operating table for another craniotomy, more radiation, and a different chemo drug. I continue to have complete confidence in my care team, and know I am in good hands medically, and good hands spiritually based on my faith and on the ongoing support I receive from so many of you whom I have been blessed to know.

As for the chemo, the 12 cycles are all I will receive at this point as it has been shown that additional cycles provided no benefit in terms or progression free or overall survival and 12 cycles of essentially fighting off the impact on my blood cell counts is considered to be enough to achieve the full efficacy of the treatment.

So, the plan remains the same: eat well, rest, stay active, and stay positive. Check, check, and check!

Thank you for your support and may peace, health and prosperity rain down upon you now and forever!

Bay Area Brain Tumor Walk with the National Brain Tumor Society (NBTS)

First, a quick update on my treatment. Cycle 11 of 12 of chemo has been delayed while my white blood cells restore to acceptable levels. Hoping for a June 26th start. Next MRI remains scheduled for July 9th with the read out on July 10th.

This Sunday, June 23rd, 2019, I will be joining with thousands of patients, caregivers, and health care providers who have been touched in some way by a brain tumor, to increase awareness and raise funds for critical research to advance related to brain tumors and brain cancer, such as Glioblastoma Multiforme Grade 4 (my particular variety). For more information on the event, please see my last blog post. I am grateful for every donation, prayer, and positive thought that has been made on my behalf and/or for me. Together, we will find a cure!

FYI: NBTS Bay Area Brain Tumor Walk: Team name: Frosty’s GBM Friends.

http://www.braintumorcommunity.org/site/TR?px=3785507&fr_id=3202&pg=personal

Event website: www.brainTumorWalk.org/Bay Area

Scan 6 Update, a prediction, and an important request

On May 14th, I had my sixth bi-monthly MRI scan. And, again, the scan was considered stable and clear meaning there is no sign of tumor regrowth (no cell groupings or new blood vessels to feed any regrowth activity). So, again, I could not ask for better news.

My beloved San Jose Sharks (ice hockey team) were eliminated from the Stanley Cup playoffs by the St. Louis Blues tonight, blowing up my dream of a Sharks vs. Boston Bruins Stanley Cup Final for this season. So, I’ll jump back on the bandwagon of my New England roots and go all in to pull for the Bruins. My prediction: The Bruins hoist the cup at the end of game 6.

On the GBM front, I will be walking with a (currently) small team of people in the Bay Area National Brain Tumor Society walk in San Francisco on June 23rd. This a fundraising and awareness building event that includes a 3 mile walk beginning at Crissy Field in SF. The views of the Golden Gate Bridge will be impressive. If you are able to join me, I would be honored to walk with you. If you cannot attend in person, a donation on behalf of team Frosty’s GBM Friends would certainly be appreciated. For more information about the walk joining my team, and/or donating, please visit this site. Every dollar raised will help the NBTS continue its efforts to find a cure for this difficult ailment, as well as, other brain tumor types that afflict people of all ages, genders, and ethnicities often without any hereditary or other genetic predispositions.

Bay Area BT Walk in June

The walk is on Sunday, June 23 with check in at 8-9:30AM and the walk from 9:30 to 11AM. The start location is Crissy Field in San Francisco (the views of the Golden Gate Bridge will be spectacular). The event ends at 12:30PM and the walking distance is a little over 3 miles. Team name is Frosty’s GBM Friends. To register, join my team, and/or make a donation to the National Brain Tumor Society, please use this link:

http://www.braintumorcommunity.org/site/TR?px=3785507&fr_id=3202&pg=personal

If you plan to participate in the walk, please let me know.

Status Update, Milestones, and Fundraising Walks

Scan #5 remains stable and clear of regrowth/activity! Cycle 9 of 12 of chemo finished. Next MRI will be on May 14th with the readout on May 15th. Peace, health and propserity be with you all!

I celebrated my 1 year from surgery anniversary on Friday, May 3rd and 1 year from diagnosis on May 7th. My spirit remains positive, my diet is healthy and I am staying active playing golf and ice hockey, riding my bike, and working out at the gym. If you have time and are so inclined, please drop me a note about how you and those you hold dear are doing. Thank you all for the love, prayers, positive thoughts and energy, and for your offers of support and help. 

Bay Area BT Walk in June

I am putting together a team (and soliciting donations) for the Bay Area Brain Tumor walk. It would be my honor to have you join me for this fundraising and awareness-building event. The walk is on Sunday, June 23 with check in at 8-9:30AM and the walk from 9:30 to 11AM. The start location is Crissy Field in San Francisco (the views of the Golden Gate Bridge will be spectacular). The event ends at 12:30PM and the walking distance is a little over 3 miles. Team name is Frosty’s GBM Friends. To register, join my team, and/or make a donation to the National Brain Tumor Society, please use this link:

http://www.braintumorcommunity.org/site/TR?px=3785507&fr_id=3202&pg=personal

If you plan to participate in the walk, please let me know.

CSC Hope Walk in May

Cancer Support Community provides education (research developments, alternative or complementary treatments and side effect management, yoga, meditation, crafting, nutrition, etc) and support group services for cancer patients and their caregivers and families. I participate in a Brain Tumor Support group and a general cancer patient support group, both of which have been helpful and completely free of charge. 

It would be my honor to have you join me for this fundraising event. The walk is on Saturday, May 18 with check in at 8:30AM; Opening Ceremony at 9:00AM, Walk begins at 10:00AM and the event ends at noon. The start location is Heather Farms Park in Walnut Creek. The distance is about 3 miles. Team name is “Frosty”. To register for the event and/or to join my team, please use this link:

https://cancersupportcommunityhopewalk.rallybound.org/TeamFrosty

If you plan to participate in the walk, please let me know.

Choices and Decisions (and a little bit on my Faith)

If anyone would have told me I would enjoy my journey with GBMG4 as much as I have, I might have told them they were nuts. But it is true, I have thoroughly enjoyed my journey and hope that in some small way my story can inspire others. A word about “journey”: When it comes to cancer, we hear about a fight and a battle. So far, I know I am in a fight, and battles will need to be fought, but thus far, I have not needed to dig that deeply other than to deal with the emotional aspects of what I can most accurately describe as my journey. Although I do not believe in scorecards, I do know so many who are dealing with other cancers and/or treatment protocols that are more demanding than mine. They are my inspiration and they are warriors!

Along my journey, I have discovered the need to make certain decisions. I offer them here in hopes that others might use them as a checklist if they find themselves in a similar situation. And, by similar, I do not mean an incurable (today) brain cancer; I mean any health related, or life, challenge. Again, and maybe Soapbox 1.5, I look at life through a lens that we all have our crosses to bear. The challenges parenting causes one person are no more or less than the challenges of dealing with a terminal disease. For me to say otherwise would be unfair. I recall the days from not so long ago where the paths my sons are taking/might take were of great concern. There may be no greater challenge today than setting our children on the right path. Likewise, relationships present significant challenges, be they personal or professional. The stress of a job is real, and I have 30 years experience to back that one up. My situation is just different, not bigger or smaller than any of yours. 

Decision 1: Given my uncontrollable diagnosis, what can I do? Well, I cannot change the past, but I can control my future to ensure I am fighting as hard as possible. So, I have started to honor the mind-body-soul connection more than I ever have in my life. (Word to the wise, do not wait on this one.!) So, I changed my diet based on the reading I did. Plant first, lean protein, low to no sugar and white flour, new spices, and hydration focused. (What I should have been doing all along.) I also have essentially given up my favorite beverage, India Pale Ales.) After 20+ years working on my beer belly, I am 30 pounds lighter and am up to a 5 pack in abdominal muscle tone, splitting #5 into #s 5 and 6 will take a bit more time. :) I can (and must) control my activity level and my stress leves. Since diagnosis, I have traveled, skied, played ice hockey, walked miles upon miles, restarted weight training, all while wearing my Optune device and managing ongoing chemo treatments. 

Decision 2: Do I trust my Care Team? Yes, I do. The doctors, nurses, technicians, and pharmaceutical company representatives I have supporting me, deserve the utmost respect and appreciation. I cannot express enough how amazingly competent and supportive they have been, nor how it is only through Christ that they are able to carry out their jobs on a daily basis, not knowing which patient will ascend into heaven on any given day. (I will spare you Soapbox #2: Cancer Cure Conspiracy Theories...for now at least.)

Decision 3: What is my purpose? Got it. God’s plan is for me to have this specific variety of brain cancer. And now that I have it, His plan for me is to advocate for myself, to control what I can control, and to keep the long term in mind: high school and college graduations, careers, marriages, house purchases, grandchildren, flourishing new relationships, and the opportunity to pass along the wisdom I have acquired through God’s grace to my children and the humbling number of friends and colleagues I have been blessed to come to know throughout my life. 

Decision 4: Why me? I have spent no time asking why me, or wishing someone else had gotten this tough version of brain cancer. Many have, and that is also God’s plan. Rather, I find myself asking myself, why NOT me? I am ready to participate in the research for a cure in whatever way I can physically and emotionally sustain. I have also gotten past the point of wondering if I deserved this, given some of the missteps I have made in my life. Rather, I see this journey as a revelation of my true purpose in this world. I have been reminded by a very close friend and his new wife, the forgiveness and salvation we receive as Christians. I’ll admit the practice of my Faith has ebbed and flowed with the events of my life. I needed a reminder that my sins have been forgiven and that , no matter how broken we feel, we are always welcomed by our God. (I know I might be treading into controversial territory, but I have Faith and believe God has a plan for me. I turn myself over to the Holy Trinity, and through this, I am completely at peace with the hand I have been dealt. (I am just trying to figure out if I have been dealt a straight flush, a full house, or pair of deuces I need to bluff my way through to continue playing.)

Decision 5: What attitude will I adopt? 

I had a few days following diagnosis when the reality of my diagnosis made me tell my loved ones that I was just flipping scared. Then, I thought I had a conscious decision to make about the attitude I would carry forward. So, remembering what my oncologist told me, I decided to adopt a positive attitude. Positive that I would beat the numbers, positive that I could be the first person ever cured of this tough ailment. Positive that I want my legacy to be one of hope and reconciliation. So far, I think this decision alone has completed the mind-body-soul circle in the best possible way for me. I have asked myself if I am being delusional and I have concluded that I am not. I know exactly what I am up against, but there always needs to be a first to be cured. So, why not set that as my goal? 

Decision 6: How wil I spend my days?   

I walk a lot. And, while I walk, I talk to the humbling number of friends and colleagues I have been blessed to have in my life. Telling my story, and jumping up on a couple of soapboxes from time to time, keeps me positive and energizes me. While hearing that my attitude and positivity is inspring for some is nice, I realize it is God’s plan for me to impart that feeling to others. I also ensure I follow my treatment protocol to the T, knowing that the longer I can survive this disease, the longer God will work through the very smart and talented scientists in the world to find a cure for those whom He has chosen to endure this ailment. 

I “live every day to its fullest”. My definition of that may be different than that of some of God’s other children. I have a “bucket list” as they say. It does not include jumping out of an airplane or bungee jumping in New Zealand. It does not include traveling to the far corners of the Earth. It includes having positive conversations, showing strength and positivity in the face of potentially daunting statistics, counseling and mentoring, and working to deepen my Faith. And, it includes playing in as many adult hockey tournaments as I can with my hockey mates, and maybe playing golf at a few US Open courses across the country. 

Next up...results of 3/19/19 MRI scan. 

Standard of Care (up to date), Reading and Research

While in the hospital recovering, my oncologist planted the seed that if my tumor turned out to be malignant (i.e., cancer), there was something that they refer to as Standard of Care (SoC) that would be started. Again, she reiterated that I should be careful when researching GBM to not get hung up on the statistics I would see. She said every instance is different, and that I was starting the journey at a good place (good overall health, no other diseases along for the ride, etc.). And, she told me if SoC did not have the results she expected, then we would look into all available clinical trials and alternative approaches. She did a very good job keeping me focused on the long term, regardless of what I would find when I started searching for information via Google.

The start of SoC turned out to be 42 straight days of an orally administered (capsules at night by me wherever I was) chemotherapy named Temodar or TMZ concurrently with 30 doses of precision radiation aimed at the tumor cavity and the remaining cancerous cells in the fingers that the neurosurgeon could not safely remove (my understanding based on the radiation plan/map that my radiation oncologist showed me). I began the 6 week cycle of both on 5/28/18 for the chemo and 5/29/18 for the radiation, completing the cycles on 7/8/18. Some of my best memories of that time are the days (all 30+) I walked down the stairs (in the middle with no need for any handrails) into the radiation clinic for what turned out to be roughly 15 minute sessions. At the bottom of the stairs, every day, I was amazed at how my balance had returned. And, I did my best to share my exuberance with the clinic staff (who, by the way were phenomenal...perhaps more on that later). For radiation, I was fitted with a mask that was used to lock my head down to the table to ensure I was in exactly the correct position for each dosage.

A few weeks after the end of the 6 week cycle, I had my first MRI, and it was very clear/stable! I could not have gotten better news. Since then, I receive an MRI every two months and have switched to a chemo schedule of 5 days of higher dosage TMZ followed by 23 days off, so 28 day cycles, still all orally administered by me at home. Thus far, I have completed 6 chemo cycles and 4 MRIs. All MRIs have been stable, there are no signs of tumor regrowth activity. (I get two MRIs, one without a contrast dye and one with contrast. The contrast image is the one that would show tumor growth, swelling, necrosis (dead cells grouped together) from the radiation (which apparently can occur months after the last dose), or new blood vessel growth (also referred to as angiogenesis) which is a sign the cancer cells are gathering and working together to form a new tumor. So, again, so far, I could not ask for better news.

In July, I also started wearing a device called Optune which was FDA approved as a part of the SoC a couple of years ago. The device consists of a power source connected to transducers placed on my head (pictures and usage experience available if you are interested) which establishes an electromagnetic field in my brain which turns out to slow down the mitosis of the glioma (cancer) cells. So, it is a delay tactic to stall the recurrence of the tumor, which to date, is inevitable. It fits into my goal of delaying the recurrence as long as possible so the crazy-smart scientists can continue their efforts to discover the ultimate cure.

Throughout all of this, I have read many books about diet and cancer prevention. I have adjusted my diet to be plant first, healthy fats, lean protein, and whole grain. I have incorporated much more turmeric/curcumin, cinnamon, and ginger into my meals. I eat very little processed food and consume as little added sugar as possible. I refrain from eating what I call white flour products.

I have read many journal articles and about many clinical trials, also. The science behind the brain, its micro environment, and the challenges of delivering treatment that can cross the blood-brain barrier is fascinating. Over time and in consultation with my NO, I dialed back my research. With nothing to treat following surgery, months of stable scans piling up, and a recurrence that would present a new genetic profile, qualification for any clinical trials was highly unlikely. We agreed to do deep research when we had something to address. Plus, I figured out early on that I could skip the first two paragraphs of any articles or trial descriptions because all that was mentioned there was the dire state of GBM treatment and the median survival times. I only needed to read that once! In my case, we are focused on PFS (Progression Free Survival), monitoring for inevitable recurrence, and then OS (overall survival) which may send me back to the start of the surgery, radiation, chemo protocol and a new clock on PFS.

Update as of 2/27/19: I have had 4 clear/stable MRIs. I have completed round 7 of 12 high dose Temodar cycles. I could not ask for better news and I am grateful for the support of my family, friends and colleagues.

My next MRI will be on March 19th and I will post the results on or just after 3/20 on this blog, so please subscribe if you are able. :)

PS - In case I did not mention this in an earlier post, my tumor was MGMT methylated. This is important because methylated patients tend to respond better to radiation and chemo. That is, more cancer cells are removed via these two treatments when the MGMT genetic marker is methylated. Seems to be true so far for me! I have also had my tumor’s genetic profile assessed. That could be helpful to establish a starting point for clinical trial research upon recurrence, but again, the profile will be different, partly based on the glioma cells’ ability to mutate to hide from the Temodar.

Next up: Choices, Choices, Choices...

The Craziest Week of My Life - Diagnosis

I arrived at the urgent care facility on Sunday April 29th based on the advice of the on-call advice nurse and doctor following my fall and wave of nausea on Friday evening, April 27th. My 23 year old son drove me and listened carefully to the discharge instruction and things to watch for that would be presented later in the day. The doctor put me through some tests to check my balance, left/right strength, etc. One test in particular that I remember, involved me putting my arms out in front of me, hands palms up, and closing my eyes. When I opened my eyes, my left hand had turned palm down...I had not consciously done that. The doctor mentioned she did not know what was wrong, but she was concerned enough to schedule me for a head CT and MRI. The scans showed a mass on my right temporal lobe, measuring about 5-6 cm along its biggest dimension. The centerline of my brain was visibly curved and the left ventricle appeared to be compressed some. The doctor discharged me and explained to my son and me that the mass was in a seizurgenic (maybe seizurogenic) area of the brain, so we should be on the lookout for seizures, and for any recurrence of any of the other symptoms I had been experiencing.

The morning of Monday, April 30 started like a normal morning. While lying on the couch and drinking my morning cup of joe, my left hand and foot shook for about 20 seconds or so. I had no nausea or loss of consciousness, and I thought it was simply trying to drink from an awkward position. But my son saw me shaking and would not accept that as the reason. He told me I had just had a seizure and told me to get in the car. He took me to the ER and I was admitted. Based on the results of the scan and the seizure, I was held overnight for observation and quick action was taken to schedule me for consultations with a neurosurgeon and neuro-oncologist the next day. The night passed without incident and on Tuesday, May 1st, I was driven to the Neuro center where I had a higher resolution MRI done and met with the aforementioned doctors. The neurosurgeon explained that the tumor was located in an area he could access and that the size and location of it did explain my balance issues, episodes of deja vu, and the focal seizure I had the day before. He scheduled me for surgery on Thursday, May 3rd. My oncologist talked about potential treatment options if the pathology indicated it was cancerous. She also reminded me that I would see a lot of statistics and to try to think about the long tail of survival because I was in overall good health and that she has patients that have far outlasted the medians. Walking to lunch that day, I would take two steps and drift into my wife and then take two more and drift into my son. I pinballed my way to the deli, had a sandwich and then met with some of the administrative staff and left for home with many forms to fill out and a check in time of 6:30AM on Thursday, May 3rd for an 8:30 surgery.

When my son dropped me off at my apartment that day, I was reaching into the back of my car to get something and my left side started to shake. Seizure #2. Again, he took me to the hospital and I was held for observation before being transported to the neurology center via ambulance the next day, May 2nd.

On May 3rd, my neurosurgeon completed a successful resection of the tumor. He said he removed 95-98% of the tumor, which turns out to be a very good result. The way the tumor I had grown (and most, if not all, tumors of this type grow), there were fingers of the tumor growing into healthy brain tissue, making it impossible to remove the tumor fingers without also removing the healthy brain tissue. He used a few fasteners to connect the piece of skull he had to remove to access the tumor back to the remaining skul and used 52 staples to hold the skin together (my brother, who had flown in with my mom from Rhode Island, counted them for me).

My recovery went very well, my balance came back quickly, and I was soon doing laps around the recovery floor. On Sunday, May 6th, I was discharged without any orders for physical therapy or occupational therapy based on the results of the testing they did in the hospital.

On Monday, May 7th (if my memory serves me correctly), my oncologist called me with the preliminary diagnosis based on microscopic pathology and analysis of one genetic marker (IDH1). The surgeon had indeed removed a cancerous tumor, specifically a Glioblastoma Multiforme Grade 4. My IDH1 was negative, meaning it had been a very aggressive tumor that had grown quickly. So, there it was, I had just had a craniotomy to remove as much of a malignant brain tumor as possible. Fortunately, I did not have any impairments beyond needing the craniotomy to heal. But it could not be denied, I was now a brain cancer patient. A follow up appointment with my neurosurgeon and Neuro-oncologist was set for May 15th and I went about my days focused on caring for my incision, walking a bit more each day, showering myself and trying to carry out routine tasks around the house, including making meals for myself, etc.

Up next...Standard of Care, Reading, and Research

Soapbox #1

As my symptoms continued and the details in the following posts played out, I discovered the first important message I wanted to share along whatever journey I would end up taking. As colleagues and friends told me I had seemed “off”, was favoring my left side, and I was crashing into things inside my apartment that I had never even brushed against before, I thought “that was really deviant from my baseline existence up to that point”. And that is Soapbox #1 that I have stepped onto many times since: Know your personal baseline. If you diverge from it and things do not improve, check it out. And, do not assume you know what is going on with you. I was so convinced I had a sinus infection, I wouldn’t have listened to any other possibility. The sum of my experience and feedback and concern from my family, friends and colleagues, was completely lost on me. I heard what I wanted to hear. So, if you fall off track, be open to new possibilities. Also, please, know the baseline behavior and capacities of those you hold dear and/or interact with on a regular basis. Call them out on the change. Push them to get checked out, and if they report nothing was found and they remain off the rails, don’t stop pushing...push harder. I realize it is a delicate situation to tell a loved one, or a colleague or a leader in any organization that you are worried about them and then to stay on them until they have an answer as to why they are “off”. I had many excuses why I seemed “off” and I Appreciate everyone who did call me out. If they had pushed harder, I likely would have fallen back on my excuses. This may sound like I am blaming people around me for not pushing me. That is in no way the case.

Up next “The Craziest Week of my Life - Diagnosis”.

Onset

One night in March of 2018, I had a headache that made sleeping difficult. The next morning, I walked out to my car and thought, “Oh no, here we go again. I mis-timed starting my medications for seasonal allergies. The green film on the hood of my car satisfied me that the cause of the headache was clear. I’ve been a hay fever sufferer for decades, and over the years, have had my share of sinus infections and bronchitis. My family used to track me down in a store by listening for my incessant sneezing. Allergic Rhinitis appears on my list of ongoing conditions. More nights of headaches caused more nights of poor sleep and fatigue started taking its toll. I started to lose my balance from time to time, including a significantly high number of falls during a men’s hockey game in early April (I hadn’t fallen that much since I took up the game around age 6 in Rhode Island.) Looking back, I could have taken the fact that my teammates would not let me drive home as a significant sign. However, I had convinced my self that it was simply a worsening sinus infection that was possibly evolving into an inner ear issue. Through April, I became more and more anxious about the lack of sleep I was experiencing and the headaches and stumbles continued. My doctor and I tried different strategies to manage the anxiety, improve the sleep, and treat the symptoms of the sinus infection I remained convinced I had. I took time off from work to focus on getting better, but things seemed to have reached a steady state of discomfort. In the weeks that would follow, I would learn that at times I was noticeably favoring my left side and that some of my text messages and phone conversations had lost whatever sharpness they had had in the past. The month of April ended with one final fall to all fours and a feeling of extreme nausea, a symptom that my doctor had asked me about but had not appeared, until Friday the 27th. With a new symptom box being checked, and my doctor not being available until the next week, I called the advice nurse at the local urgent care/hospital, explained my symptoms, and I was scheduled to see a doctor on Sunday, April 29th. Next up, “Soapbox #1” and then “The craziest week of my life”.