I had just lost a brother.
It had been a rough year, with a series of horrific car accidents and my first major stroke.
I’d spent weeks on end with my mom and dad in a hospital bed, unable to move or speak.
The doctors had told me that I had a brain tumor and they would need to amputate it, which was a terrifying prospect.
Then the news broke: my father had died of brain cancer.
It felt like the worst thing I had ever experienced, and I felt a rush of anxiety.
I started thinking about how he could have survived cancer.
What if I’d had cancer and never lived to see my son grow up?
I thought about the thousands of people in the world who have lost their parents to cancer.
And I wondered if it was possible that the loss of my father would have made me feel more helpless than normal.
And that anxiety became a full-blown headache.
I couldn’t sleep, and my head felt like a balloon in my stomach.
My eyes were swollen shut, and when I walked, I felt like I was floating.
At the hospital, I was in a small room, surrounded by medical staff, nurses, and doctors.
As I was waiting for my father to be admitted, I thought of all the things I had to deal with at the hospital: my sister getting breast cancer, my husband’s illness, my own brain tumor, my son’s diagnosis, the loss and subsequent treatment.
I felt exhausted and angry, and a part of me wanted to punch them in the face.
But I had no idea what was going on inside of me.
I didn’t know if my father was still alive, if I would ever be able to see him again, if he would ever know I was alive.
I still don’t.
I have trouble imagining the day I will be able see my dad again.
The brain tumor was diagnosed as a glioblastoma.
It is a very aggressive and deadly form of brain tumor.
I was told that I would likely die within a few months.
My father died in 2015.
But the doctors at Johns Hopkins University told me it was still possible that I could see my father.
A year after my father died, my mom, who has been my best friend for almost a decade, started seeing me more frequently.
She was diagnosed with Stage III glioma.
She and my dad have had no contact.
She has no memory of my dad at all.
The cancer that my mother is currently battling has spread to her brain and lung, and she’s in a coma.
When my father first died, she had to have a plate inserted in his stomach and a tube inserted in the brain, and it is difficult for her to move.
At this point, I think I’ve been living a completely normal life.
I feel so normal.
My dad is still alive and well, and he is in a good state of health, but I’m very much like my mother.
I am a pretty normal, healthy person, and in many ways, he’s become my best, most loving friend.
But he doesn’t know that.
The first time my father’s condition became known to me was when I started attending a local medical conference.
The topic of gliomas, as it’s known, has recently gained popularity, and scientists are now investigating whether the cancer is an immune-mediated phenomenon or a genetic disease.
Glioma is a rare form of cancer that arises from abnormal growth of tumors, or tumors that grow rapidly in a patient’s brain.
Scientists have linked gliogenesis to autoimmune diseases such as type 1 diabetes, and some have suggested that the tumor itself may be a trigger for autoimmune disorders.
I wasn’t aware of any scientific study that looked at the relationship between my father and gliomyelitis, the cancer that caused my dad’s brain tumor to spread.
At first, I didn-t believe it.
Then I saw the video.
I saw my father, a tall, muscular, white-haired man, walking around the hospital with his face painted on his left cheek.
He was wearing a suit and tie, and there was a huge smile on his face.
He seemed so happy, but the emotion was gone.
It was just me and him.
Then, just as he was about to leave, I saw a huge, white tumor on his brain.
It wasn’t just the tumor on my dad, it was on every one of us.
I knew immediately that something was very wrong.
The next day, my dad had to be transferred to the intensive care unit.
He’s now on a ventilator.
My mom is in the ICU, and her breathing has stopped.
She hasn’t been able to talk to me for the past week.
I haven’t been to see her for a week.
The hospital told me the tumor was a malignant gliostoma.
The tumor is not very large,