Silence

Hello. It’s me again.

10 weeks since an update. Time flies!

The blog pause was intentional – mostly.

Since it’s been a while, here’s the recap of our brain tumor journey:

This time last year we were trying to figure out why Jason’s left ear felt plugged and he was dizzy. He started talking to doctors – not just his doctor-wife. His PCP. ENT. Audiology. Rheum. Like every one else in Nebraska in April, it was assumed to be allergies, a virus, sinus congestion, eustachian tube issue, … plus high blood pressure, GERD, fatty liver, and a perforated nasal septum for a fun distraction. Health struggles often inspire lifestyle changes, so he, too, started walking for exercise. But, walking was difficult. His left leg didn’t work the same as his right. By July, it was his left arm, too. The list of possible diagnoses started to get a lot scarier than just allergies. Words like MS, stroke, vasculitis, lymphoma … brain tumor. On July 10th, 2025, he had THE MRI. Then, after many tests, even brain surgery, came the official cancer diagnosis: IDH-mutant astrocytoma, Grade 3. Given the location in the brain stem and cerebellum 3 different neurosurgeons each agreed that surgical resection was not an option. So, we moved on to radiation. In the fall of 2025 he completed 6 weeks of proton beam radiation treatments at Mayo Clinic in Rochester. The next step in treatment included an entire year of chemotherapy with temozolomide. And that’s where we are today – 6 months through (and left of) chemo.

We’ve made it through roughly (pun-intended): 290 days, 30 proton radiation treatments, 35-40 CTs/MRIs, TNTC “too-numerous-to-count” pills/appointments/blood draws/panic attacks, only! 1 ER visit, & $20,000+ in expenses – and, yes, we do have health insurance.

It’s been a crazy, painfully humbling 9+ months. Hurt swirled together with hope. Yin & yang.

What a surprise it has been to realize one of the most painful parts of this journey has been the periods of silence. Silence. Of all the things!

Recall the silent weeks between surgery and getting the pathology report. It was one of the worst experience as a patient. (Read the post from that time here.)

And, some of the oddest psychological pain has come from the silence of a few once-considered-friends. We have been on the recieving end of SO. MUCH. GENEROSITY! Thank you!! Yet, there are some friends who chose instead to walk away. I can’t explain it. Shock? Busy? Afraid? Awkward? Unaware? Regardless, feeling abandoned hurts.

This realization is a lesson learned for us. Not to be angry or bitter towards those we feel abandoned by, but instead, to recognize and consciously be genuine friends ourselves. Moreso, to teach our kids how to be true, kind friends, too. It’s not easy, y’all!

All of that to say… the blog pause was not intended to be the silence of abandoning you, our friends. Really, it was just a quiet pause to let life breathe a little. Exhale. Listen. Pray. Rest. Be.

And that brings us to today.

Next week, we will have another MRI. A “check-up” per se. I’ll keep you posted.

Thanks for hanging in there with us.

“But you should keep a clear mind in every situation. Don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Work at telling others the Good News, and fully carry out the ministry God has given you.”

2 Timothy 4:5

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About THE AUTHOR

Meet Susan Newman, MD, a board-certified Family Medicine physician from central Nebraska. She cares for patients of all ages & stages of life in her current practice. Known for establishing strong relationships, she is passionate about proactive, & personalized healthcare. Writing is one of many ways she advocates for her patients, for primary care, & for herself.