My Turn: A tender journey followed diagnosis

Life changed forever on Sept. 10, 2020. My husband of 33 years, Jim, suffered a seizure and was taken to Stony Brook University Hospital. He was only 56 years old and seemed quite healthy, so this came out of nowhere.

The initial diagnosis, after a CT scan and MRI, was that he had a tumor in the left frontal lobe of his brain — most likely glioblastoma, the deadliest brain cancer. On Sept. 15, he had an awake craniotomy, or brain surgery, during which most of the tumor was removed. However, glioblastoma is a type of cancer that is like glitter in the brain — it is not contained to just the tumor.

Jim would go through a standard of care that had not changed much in the past 20 years. This would include six weeks of five-day-per-week radiation, while taking an oral chemotherapy drug, temozolomide. The life expectancy of his diagnosis is 15 to 18 months. Jim survived for 27 months.

Through those months were many ups and downs — treatment continued with monthly temozolomide until that was no longer working. In April of 2022, after recurrence of the tumor, Jim had another awake craniotomy, this time at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. His cancer treatments had also been though the center, where he had a caring team. He recovered well from that surgery and then started on some clinical trial treatments.

Through Jim’s entire cancer journey, he never complained or asked, “Why me”? Instead, he said, “Why not me, what makes me so special?”

Jim suffered from aphasia, so twice a week he went to speech therapy and had a wonderful therapist who helped him tremendously.

Sometimes Jim thought of his cancer as a blessing — it made him appreciate the life we had. Fortunately, most of the time he was physically strong enough to go out on hikes, and we discovered many beautiful new places on Long Island. We spent time with friends, traveled to upstate New York and out East, and our love for each other grew deeper, not knowing how much longer we would have together.

In October 2020, Jim was received into the Catholic Church and received the sacraments of Eucharist and Confirmation. His faith continued to grow and deepen over the next two years. He was faithful and strong until his death on Jan. 2, 2023.

Jim kept a journal on CaringBridge — a nonprofit social network designed to help family and friends stay connected during health events — and this is part of his last entry, in November 2022: “Now the cancer is changed again. This time, it’s growing and regrowing too fast. . . . I’m still a fighter, but now is my time not to fight. Because I have learned that my life has been stronger, my love grown deeper and now I know that my life has been complete and perfect.”

This past year I have spent as a widow, and it hasn’t been easy. I miss Jim every day. His death has changed me — I have had to navigate a life alone. We had so many plans for our future, but now it’s a future of one.

I have found support through Good Shepherd Hospice bereavement groups. I have met some wonderful women, and we have become friends through our shared experiences.

It takes a village to grieve, just as it took a village to help Jim and me through his cancer journey. There were so many people who prayed for us and brought us meals, among countless other ways of support. For the lessons I learned through this journey, I will be forever grateful.

 Teresa Emerson

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