Christopher McPherson, MD, Director of the Division of Surgical Neuro-Oncology at UC, and Brian Wiles, a member of the Brain Tumor Center's Community Advisory Board, are featured in a Cincinnati Enquirer article about the Midwes
There was a time in Alisha’s young life when she was angry at her fate and bitter about her life. “I wondered why this had to happen to me,” she said. Her outlook has changed to one of eagerness and optimism.
Ameer’s friends noticed the weight loss, and they kept asking him about it. Was he OK? Ameer wasn’t concerned at first. Then he began to notice that he couldn’t see people approaching him from the side. His peripheral vision was deteriorating.
Blake knew he was in the right hands the moment he saw the surgeon’s wrists. Dr. John M. Tew, Blake’s neurosurgeon, was wearing one of Lance Armstrong’s yellow LiveStrong cancer bracelets. So was Blake. Dr. Tew, who was also sporting a Tour de France lanyard, was an avid cyclist. So was Blake.
First there were headaches. Bad ones. Migraines, probably. Then, one day in mid-May, 2010, his knee, foot and arm went numb on his left side. Darrell “Doc” Rodgers, the 700WLW radio personality, feared he was having a stroke.
On an ordinary day in February 2009, John M. Tew, MD, got one of the true surprises of his career. He was seeing patients in his Mayfield Clinic office on the University of Cincinnati medical campus when an unexpected guest arrived. Jerry, a retired law enforcement officer from rural Kentucky, walked into Dr. Tew’s office to say thank you.
Joe calls it a miracle and a gift from “a higher power.” Others might call it a fortuitous turn of fate. Either way, Joe’s experience embodies a reversal of fortune that is both wonderful and startling. Once a man with a brain tumor and little hope, Joe is today cancer-free and buoyed by a favorable prognosis.
John, a retired painter and carpenter, is a tall, solidly built man with a strong inclination toward getting things done. A former Vista volunteer who was equally comfortable running a food co-op in an underserved neighborhood or standing near the top of a tall ladder, he is a natural at lending a hand to people who can’t quite make it on their own.
Kevin was in his mid-40s when he began to notice that he wasn’t hearing quite as well as in the past. But the change was gradual, so he didn’t worry about it. A few years went by, and the hearing loss became more noticeable. "I started having problems hearing on the phone," he recalled. "Words were sometimes distorted. It was very weird."
Sandra (Sandy) is a smiling, breathing reminder that hope exists for patients with even the most challenging type of brain tumors.
Nine years ago, when Sandy was first told that she had six months to live, she stared back blankly at her doctor. “Who are they talking about?” she remembers thinking. “That isn’t me. I’m not going anywhere. I was determined to live.”
