Jordan’s Story

2023 was a year of the highest peaks and the lowest valleys for our family.  The year started in the most remarkable way. Our second son was born in January, and we brought him home to his 19-month-old big brother. I’ve truly never been so happy. I had three perfect months of maternity leave, and in April, I was heading back to work at the law firm that I own in our rural Colorado town.

But on Sunday, April 16, 2023, our world was flipped upside down, and although I didn’t know at the time, the chapter of “life before cancer” was completed. There were so many God moments on that day, and in the days following, it’s clear that in an incredibly difficult and scary situation, God was still working in the details. I walked into our living room, and instantly, I knew something was wrong. My husband, Brady, was sitting on the couch and seemed to be moving in an odd way and almost falling to his right side in slow motion. I was looking at him from behind, so I ran to the front of the couch and realized he was having a seizure. I’d never seen someone having a seizure, but my brain immediately knew what was happening. Instincts kicked in, and I did my best to ease him off the couch and onto the ground to protect his head and body. At this point, he was in full convulsions and not conscious. I would only find out later that he was having a grand mal seizure. I called 911, again, a first for me. The operator stayed on the line with me until EMS could arrive. The front door to our home was wide open, and I could see the ambulance coming down our dirt road, honestly in disbelief at the situation playing out. EMS arrived and started tending to him. He had another seizure while they were there and then he went into a postictal state that was extremely scary to witness. Eventually, they were able to get him into the ambulance and to the hospital just down the road.  We have an incredible rural local hospital, and once they were able to stabilize him, Brady was sent for a CT scan. Soon, we were informed by the on-call doctor that the results showed he had a “mass on his brain.” I’m not sure at what point your level of shock just can’t rise any further, but when I heard those words, I simply felt numb. 

Because we live three hours from the nearest medical center with a neuro-trauma unit, Brady was flown by helicopter to Swedish Medical Center near Denver, Colorado that afternoon. I haphazardly packed a bag of clothes, loaded up my infant, and left my oldest son with my parents, unclear when I would see him next. Brady’s mom and I drove the long drive to Denver.   For several days we knew nothing more than the fact that he had a mass and surgery was likely. On April 18th, he finally received an MRI, and it was confirmed that he had what they suspected was a low-grade glioma. Through more God winks in the form of friends and their connections, we met our incredible neurosurgeon, Dr. Eddie Tsvankin of the Colorado Brain and Spine Institute. Ironically, Dr. Eddie started his residency program at Duke Medical School at the same time Brady was an undergrad student at Duke University. We were again reminded that God is in all the details. We had a difficult but informative conversation, and he basically told us that surgery was the only option as the tumor was large and was pushing up against Brady’s motor cortex in his left parietal lobe. It’s hard to grasp the thought process in which a human decides to fully trust another human to open their brain and operate, but we both knew Dr. Eddie was the right choice. He booked the OR for that Friday and expected the surgery to take 6-7 hours. A craniotomy - with very specific brain mapping based on the location of the tumor. He expected Brady to have right-side deficits for a short period of time (a few weeks to a month). Brady’s surgery ended up taking nearly 9 hours. That day was a complete blur and yet I remember such intricate details. Like the sound of my footsteps walking the neuro floor to get my infant to sleep, the arrangement of the chairs in the lobby, and the faces of the receptionist, and the barista in the hospital cafe. I’ve never been so mentally and physically exhausted in my life. My baby knew, and as he and I were about to completely melt down, I got the call that Brady was out of surgery. He had a near-total resection, and he did well through surgery. Blessing after blessing. He was taken to the neuro ICU, and I was so relieved hear his voice. The next morning physical therapy came to get him up and to assess what type of physical needs he had. To my surprise, he walked a whole lap around the ICU floor. The right side of his body, especially his leg, was slow to connect and mostly numb, but he did it. On Monday they released him home. The three-hour trek after such an intense surgery was a lot. Brady had a breakthrough focal seizure on the way home. That first night home with him was one of the hardest nights of my life. I had no idea what to expect; he could have another seizure, he needed help to navigate the house, he struggled to sleep because of the steroids. I had a baby sleeping next to me, and I had no idea how he would react to his new seizure medication. And on an even larger scale, I was grappling with what this diagnosis truly meant for Brady and our family. I so vividly remember that night, and I have so much empathy for that version of me. 

In the days and weeks after, I navigated his medications and calls with doctors and insurance and began learning as much as I could with the information I had.  Brady is the most courageous and determined person I have ever known. I was continually amazed by him and his recovery - a testament to how incredibly miraculous our bodies are. Our families were helpful in so many ways, especially those first weeks. Our community was incredible - friends organized a meal train, and so many people stepped up to help us. Talk about the love of small towns. Three weeks post-surgery, the pathology of the tumor confirmed it was cancer and was a higher grade than our surgeon anticipated. At this point I knew from my research that the “standard of care” was likely necessary, and he would be put into the oncology system. I knew the traditional radiation and chemo treatments were going to be extremely toxic to his body. I started to look for supportive ways to help him through the upcoming treatment. 

Less than a week later we were thrown off course again.  Brady was easing back into his work as a commodities broker, and I was going back into my office. He couldn’t drive because of his right-side deficit so a friend took him to the office while I was getting the boys to daycare. Within an hour of being at the office fever and chills set in, he had a sensitivity to light, threw up, and eventually had another focal seizure - this one much worse than the others since surgery.  We had no other option but to call 911, and the ambulance took him from our office to the hospital. As I was following the ambulance, I drove by my son’s daycare class out on a walk. The little toddlers pointed and waved to the ambulance, and my heart just broke as I came to terms with our reality.  All the symptoms indicated meningitis, and our surgeon recommended that he be flown by helicopter back to Swedish Medical Center. This time there wasn’t a room waiting on the neuro floor, and instead, they admitted him to the ER. He luckily had a private room, and his sister was able to meet him there while his dad and I drove the three hours back to Swedish Hospital. Infectious disease ordered a spinal tap, and they started growing the culture to see what type of infection he had. He was hospitalized for two weeks while receiving two high-powered antibiotics. Those two weeks in the hospital were hard. Both boys were with my parents, I was pumping every three hours to keep my milk supply, and we had very few answers. Brady struggled to recover for many days, was poked and prodded relentlessly, and was frustrated by the setback. During this time, I was working remotely, trying to coordinate radiation, trying to find a neuro-oncologist, and dealing with our insurance company that the Colorado Division of Insurance was shutting down. 

It was during this hospital stay, while researching that I intuitively knew we had to do something to support him through his upcoming treatment.  I asked every single doctor who came through our doors what we could do to support him.  I suggested diet changes, adding supplements, IVs, and acupuncture, and at nearly every turn, I was simply told no, was gaslit, or told that adverse reactions from alternative medicine could make things worse. To be clear, this was not a concerted effort to stop us from exploring these things, I think the doctors simply didn’t think it would make a difference, or they had no experience in which to advise.  I scoured Instagram for people sharing their stories. One warrior led to another, which led to a new piece of information, which led to a podcast, which led to a book, which led to a practitioner. A friend connected me to another brain cancer warrior, Taylor Dukes, and it was from her and the content she shared on her @taylordukeswellness instagram that I realized that my intuition was right. Say what you will about social media, but it’s through these interactions and sharing of stories that I learned about alternative practices, integrative modalities, and the ins and outs of the medical system, and it made me question everything. I intuitively knew that there were underlying causes for this tumor to grow, and I also knew that his body was working FOR him. I refused to accept that it was just “bad luck.” This answer never resonated with me. It offers a very simple “explanation” to a very complex problem. I thank God every day that Brady had an open mind, trusted me, and agreed to pursue any modality or treatment that could offer support. 

In June Brady started radiation five days a week for six weeks in Littleton, Colorado. Out of the absolute kindness of their heart, a family member’s family offered their home to us while we were in the metro area for treatment. That was a gift from God because I don’t know how we would have done it otherwise. The first week we tried to have our infant with us, but infants are not allowed in office visits at the oncology center, so instead of being in appointments with Brady and his oncologist, I was in the car in the parking lot on speaker phone. While we were in a place that had access to modalities we simply don’t have in rural Eastern Colorado, I scheduled and coordinated appointment after appointment for acupuncture, consults on high dose Vitamin C and other IVs and with integrative practitioners. Again, the appointments and being in a car all day were not conducive to having an infant. For the last few weeks, our parents helped watch the boys, and we traded off occasionally when there weren’t any appointments that I needed to attend with Brady. We made it work, but being away from your children, especially one who is still breastfeeding, is very difficult physically and emotionally. But we persisted, and we were diligent about his supplement protocol, fasting before chemo, rest, and exercise. And amazingly, through all this, Brady continued to work. A testament to his unwavering desire to support our family. 

In the time between June and December of 2023 we made drastic changes in our life. We completely changed his diet by cutting out all processed food, seed oils, refined sugar, alcohol and caffeine. He ate whole foods, balanced his blood sugar, started a supplement protocol based on testing with a local integrative doctor, movement every day, physical therapy, and nuero-emotional work. We threw out household toxic products and changed to better alternatives. We started drinking filtered water, incorporating sunlight, grounding daily, PEMF, red light, and herbs to manage stress and sleep. We absolutely believe these things helped him from a physiological and emotional perspective through the 30 rounds of radiation and low-dose chemo. In August, he started his cycles of high-dose oral chemo, and we continued this path. In a matter of months, he lost nearly 30 pounds, his heartburn went away, his headaches went away, his cravings went away, and his blood work improved despite taking chemo. Brady worked diligently in physical therapy. Prior to starting PT he couldn’t drive, couldn’t stand on one foot, couldn’t even walk in a straight line toe-to-toe because of a lack of proprioception in his right leg – a deficit from surgery and the location of the tumor. After months of physical therapy with our friend and local PT, Greg Collins, Brady could finally drive, lift weights, and run with minimal deficit. The normalcy was empowering. When people ask Brady if diet and lifestyle changes can make a difference, it’s a resounding yes. Brady tells people that he never would have believed it was possible if he hadn’t gone through it himself.

In January of 2024, our family moved to Irvine, California for six weeks so Brady could receive treatment at the Cancer Center for Healing (“CCFH”) under the care of Dr. Leigh Erin Connealy. I had pushed for this for months, but the timing was never right. Our families were such incredible support. CCFH has been the biggest blessing to our family. Their testing abilities, the modalities they have under one roof, the staff, and the doctors are truly the future of cancer care. Our first consultation with Dr. Connealy lasted two hours, and she wanted to know everything related to Brady’s life and health from birth to the present. I felt so validated in so many ways after this consultation and knew that we were on the right track. During the first week of being there, they took in-depth blood labs, performed a bio-meridian survey, a 3-D body scan, a live blood analysis, a F-scan that tests for parasites and infections, Oligoscan to measure minerals and heavy metals, and a MEAD test, which tests for the voltage of your cells. I had researched much of what they did, but still, I was absolutely blown away by the many ways we can support a body going through cancer. It all made so much sense to me and provided such a better view into the state of Brady’s body, the ways we needed to pinpoint support for chemo, and his ultimate ability to start healing. We then started treating those things based on the results. He did high dose Vitamin C and Arsenate IVs, PEMF, hyperbaric oxygen therapy (HBOT), red light therapy, Aquacure hydrogen-air and water, Weber helmet, bio-charger and bio-modulator to charge cells, Firefly Therapy which uses frequency to kill parasites and infection, Extracorporeal Blood Oxygenation and Ozonation (EBOO) to filter blood, EVOX Therapy to work through emotional blocks, cleanses to restore balance to his organs, acupuncture, massage, and chiropractic to restore energy flow, and SCENAR (Self-Controlled Energy Neuro-Adaptive Regulator) Therapy that uses electro-stimulation to help the body heal itself. These modalities work. We know this because Brady’s symptoms from being on chemo were extremely minimized compared to taking chemo without receiving treatment at CCFH. Where he would typically be fatigued, nausea, loss of appetite, irritable, and restless, he had energy, and he felt decent. The experience was profound. We met incredible people who work at CCFH and warriors receiving treatment at CCFH. Most of them our age, and all of them with a refusal to give their power away to a limited health care system. Warriors and their families were motivated to understand the underlying cause of their cancer and belief in their body that it could heal itself. The six weeks in Irvine were a beautiful time for our family. We went to the ocean every chance we got, celebrated our son’s first birthday, ate incredible nourishing food, spent time in the sun and sand, and watched our kids experience life in a new place. Our oldest still talks about the “blue house” in California. 

In July of 2024 Brady finished 12 cycles of oral chemo. Every two months he receives a brain MRI scan. And while these scans have caused an unbelievable amount of fear and anxiety, we believe that every day he is healing.  The goal for brain cancer is stable scans, meaning there is no tumor growth. Brain scans for individuals who have received radiation especially are very hard to interpret because the radiation can cause necrosis of the tissue. This shows up on the scans making it difficult to determine if the expression in these areas is dead tissue from treatment or new tumor growth.  We’ve continued our integrative health journey because we are repairing what has been done and changing the terrain of his body one cell at a time with the ultimate goal that he can heal himself. Brady’s radiation oncologist used the metaphor to explain cancer treatment by comparing it to a ship. The ship must be turned around, and this takes time. Brady is currently on a protocol individualized and created for him by his doctors at the Cancer Center for Healing. Finding a practitioner who you trust, believes in the immense healing power of the body, thinks outside the box, gives hope, while providing direction for addressing imbalances in the body is necessary. 

Our story is still unfolding. Brain cancer has no “cure” but instead must be managed for the patient's life. Regardless, we are very conscious of the language we use regarding this disease and we choose to speak life over Brady and our family daily. We are immensely grateful for every “normal” day we share together. Every day is not sunshine and rainbows. There were, and continue to be, extremely hard, soul-shattering days. Spouses going through a cancer journey together understand the absolute depths of darkness it elicits. It’s taken a lot to process the trauma of a spouse with a cancer diagnosis. I still live in a state of hypervigilance, and I mourn the life I envisioned for us and the many days and nights away from my kids as we went to doctors’ appointments, treatments, and testing. 45+ nights away from your kids in a year is a hard figure to wrap your head around. The fear of the future is a regular thought. I often become frustrated when I think of the health issues that have sprung up for me because of the fear, stress and worry. But I recently listened to a podcast on Culture Apothecary with Dr. Jennifer Simmons, and she so beautifully said a truth that those going through a cancer journey often experience.  She said, “I am not saying that sickness is a blessing, but it is an opportunity. It is an opportunity that I would never have had because I wouldn’t have taken my blinders off. It’s only through my experience as a patient that I questioned the system, that I asked why.” And this is truly how Brady and I feel. This diagnosis has changed us, and the way we live our lives in nearly every way. It’s the catalyst for my desire to raise healthy kids, and I truly think this experience will have an impact on our family and future generations. We no longer live in the world our grandmothers grew up in. In fact, we no longer live in the world our mothers grew up in. It’s estimated that there are approximately 80,000 chemicals used in commerce in the United States, most of which have never been tested for safety. We realized early on that it’s vital to protect our family, and that requires staying away from known endocrine disruptors, harmful food ingredients and dyes, fragrances, and dead food. It starts with education, but we must then implement small changes. We are not perfect, but we know every good choice makes a difference. 80/20 is our rule, and if we can do better, we do. 

It’s our hope that by sharing our story, others may have the courage to make changes within their families. We want people to know that many cancers can be prevented and are a result of lifestyle and the toxic world we live in. Nonetheless, we all have the sovereignty to make different and better choices. We also aim to share the integrative side of our journey to introduce our community to ideas, treatments, modalities, practitioners, and other resources that may support them or a loved one in their cancer journey. 

Brady’s cancer diagnosis, although incredibly difficult, has changed the foundation of our family’s health and wellness for the better.

We choose to find gratitude for our circumstances and trust that God has a plan for our lives.