The Day My Life Changed Forever: A Glioblastoma Diagnosis

My Glioblastoma Journey Begins: From Diagnosis to Determination

Hello, I am Johnathan, and I have started this blog to share my story in the hope that it might provide comfort, assistance, or guidance to someone else facing a similar journey. When I was diagnosed with Glioblastoma (GBM), I scoured the internet for stories of hope but found mostly negativity and ominous predictions. I knew there were Glioblastoma survivors out there, and each person's journey with Glioblastoma is unique. I am newly diagnosed, having received the news on November 22, 2023, the day before Thanksgiving.

This blog will follow my personal experience with Glioblastoma—both painful moments and the unexpected sources of strength I never knew I had.

Who I Am Beyond the Diagnosis

I was born in the small town of Arcata, California, and grew up in a loving family. I realized I was different at a young age and came out as gay at sixteen. Overcoming the challenges of growing up in a small town, I left at eighteen and eventually settled in Sacramento at the age of thirty-seven. I have been happily married to my husband, Ernest, for the past ten years. We share our lives with a furry friend, love to travel, enjoy Disneyland, and maintain close ties with our families. Our health struggles were typical—Ernest is diabetic, and I have high blood pressure—but nothing out of the ordinary. That changed with the Glioblastoma diagnosis.

Nothing could have prepared us for how quickly life shifted once Glioblastoma entered the picture.

The Day Glioblastoma Changed Everything

On the night of November 22, 2023, as I procrastinated on making a Thanksgiving pie and worked on homework in my home office, a mild headache escalated. Headaches were not uncommon for me, but this one felt different. As I struggled to make sense of my statistics homework, I experienced a sudden difficulty in organizing my thoughts and felt a rising panic. Taking a break, I stood up and was hit with an intense bout of vertigo as I navigated the stairs. Feeling sick, I woke up Ernest, who noticed something was off. He suggested the emergency room, but I hesitated. After ten minutes, panic set in, and we rushed to the ER. That moment marked the beginning of my Glioblastoma battle.

The fear of the unknown was overwhelming, but something inside me told me to keep moving forward.

At the Sacramento ER, I underwent an EKG, CAT scan, bloodwork, and a chest x-ray. The nurse seemed deeply concerned. After waiting, a nurse called me back alone. In the exam room, the doctor—her hair bright pink—delivered the blow: a walnut-sized mass on my brain. It did not look good. An ambulance would be transferring me to another facility. That mass would soon be confirmed as Glioblastoma.

Processing the Diagnosis

The moment I heard the word Glioblastoma, the world froze. I looked at my husband and saw the tears in his eyes. My mother and sister arrived to support me, but the weight of the diagnosis was crushing. We sat together, hearts heavy and minds racing.

I needed answers, but all I had in that moment was fear—and the love of the people around me.

I was transferred to a specialty facility in a Sacramento suburb focused on neurological issues and cancer. The doctor there wasted no time recommending surgery. But an unexpected hurdle: the MRI machines were down. For several days, I existed in limbo, caught between prayer and sobs. Once the scans were complete, the surgery was finally scheduled. The urgency was clear—Glioblastoma waits for no one.

Surgery and a New Chapter

The surgery lasted eight hours. It was long and exhausting for my family—but successful. The surgeons removed the tumors, though there were still microscopic traces left behind. As is often the case with Glioblastoma, the fight was far from over. But we had won a critical first battle.

The surgery gave me a second chance, and now I want to use it to speak up and support others facing Glioblastoma.

And so begins the next phase of my story. I will continue to share everything—good, bad, and in between. My mission is to be the voice I once searched for, a source of connection for others facing Glioblastoma. In the next post, I will share more about recovery and what it means to live while fighting.

Buckle up—the rollercoaster that is Glioblastoma continues, but so does my will to keep going.