Miracle in Maryland

It is now late September, 2005. It is time to tell the unusual story about how my adult children probably saved my life and my quality of life on my visit to Baltimore in late February. I was fortunate to be in the right place at the right time when a malignant brain tumor was found. What happened still seems like a series of miracles.

I had planned a trip to Baltimore to help with my grandchildren because my daughter-in-law, Luciene Parsley, had just had surgery on her elbow. Much to my surprise, I was the one who received the help.

The first sign of a problem occurred when I left Colorado Springs for the east coast on February 19. I was frisked and had to go through security a second time because I had accidentally left an all-purpose tool in my backpack. I was afraid I would miss my plane with all the delays, so I ran to the gate with my carry-on bags flapping. Strangely, once I got on the plane, I had trouble finding the overhead storage compartments. I moved my hands in a swimming motion trying to find the compartments. Other people helped and I finally managed to sit down. I got out my paperback book and was happy to find I could still read. I wondered if I had had a stroke. My left side was not operating well.

When I arrived at my layover in Chicago, I still felt a little disoriented and dizzy. I asked for a wheelchair and a checkup. Fortunately, my vital signs were okay and I could continue on my journey, rather than being stranded in a hospital in Chicago without my family. This seemed like one of the miracles.

After the plane landed in New York, I seemed to be okay. I even went with my oldest son Rod Parsley and his family to the Gates Exhibit in Central Park, New York. I also found my way in crowded train stations on my way to Baltimore. However, the train trip was stressful for me.

In Baltimore I began to have obvious perceptual problems. I bumped into people and things with my left side. I would look around carefully, and still bump into someone or something. On the evening of February 23, my son Andy Parsley said we had to talk. He told me I had to do something about the perceptual problems. The next day we spent a few hours in the emergency room at the nearest hospital. An MRI revealed a small (two and one-half centimeter ) tumor in the parietal area in the back of my head. I was told I needed brain surgery to remove the tumor. My adult children went into action. My daughter-in-law, Luciene, found that the best neurosurgeons were at Johns Hopkins hospital (possibly the best hospital in the world). Unfortunately, I was at a different hospital. My son Rod and Luciene, (an attorney) argued with the present hospital staff about my being transferred to Johns Hopkins. When the hospital staff members said that a transfer was totally impossible, Rod called his friend, Alex Sapir. Rod and Alex and others had shared a house when they went to Harvard Business School. Amazingly, Alex and people from Alex's firm, had worked with doctors at Johns Hopkins to develop wafer implants which would dispense chemotherapy. Alex called one of the neurosurgeons who was a close friend of his. The doctor authorized my transfer, and soon I had a miraculous midnight Saturday ambulance ride to Johns Hopkins. My brain surgery took place on Monday, Feb. 28, nine days after the first symptoms. During my surgery the small tumor was removed and eight chemotherapy wafers were placed where the tumor had been. Later I was told that the neurosurgeon, Dr. Weingart, had saved my perception and my vision.

A few days after surgery I went to stay with my son Andy, his wife Luciene, and my two granddaughters. Then I needed to go back to my home in Colorado Springs for chemotherapy and radiation. The only possible caretaker seemed to be my youngest son, David, who was going to graduate school in China. Without hesitation, he agreed to fly back from China to care for me. His help has been invaluable as I struggled through chemotherapy, radiation, and the effects of prescription drugs (which included panic attacks and mood swings). It was another miracle that he was willing to leave graduate school and put his career plans "on hold" for me.

I am so fortunate that my family came through for me, that the tumor was caught early, that I had an excellent neurosurgeon, and that we humans have a lot of connections for perception. I have been able to easily relearn perceptual skills that were lost as a result of the tumor and the surgery. My prognosis is good. My post-surgery MRIs show no signs of cancer. Thank God for miracles.