Help Todd Fight for a Cure

A picture worth a thousand words

I really don't know where to start- maybe the beginning.

Todd Christensen is 33 years old, stands tall at 6 foot 3 inches, and is a solid 265 lbs.

He has a soft heart.

He loves machines and mechanical things. He can fix anything.

Hes a great father to our two kids.

Todd Christensen is my husband....

and he has brain cancer.

Its no secret to anyone thats ever met Todd or our family that we are happy opposites.

Todd is organized and I'm a mess.

He's cautious, I'm curious. Todd is friendly. I'm..... challenging. We are both very competitive. We both love people, we share the same off color sense of humor.

We agree on big things, God, morality, integrity, hard work, politics, parenting.

We dont sweat small things. We don't waste time.

I met Todd in 2013 on Thanksgiving Day. He was a machinist that worked with my stepfather who is the same. I remember our first interaction- and being thankful he was there, while still a stranger to me, he was handsome and came across as "maybe the nicest guy id ever met."

He was standing in the kitchen just staring at the food.... I sensed hesitancy.... I gave him permission, then pushed him to eat.

"Seriously, please....here I'll make you another plate" he was shy in a house full of southern women forcing turkey and yeast rolls down his throat. An hour later he was snoring on my mom's couch.

Years later, I would once again test his manners, when I kissed him on a fishing pier on Memorial Day in front of my whole family. He was standing at the very end of the pier, and we were goofing off, acting like we might push the other into the lake. I knew he wouldnt push me in the lake, too nice. But i didn't think he'd kiss me either.

I thought he might jump into the lake to avoid it even... turns out not true, but he did turn a bashful bright red. Great manners.

We started dating. It was then that I found out that decades prior, at 10 years old, Todd had lost his dad to brain cancer.... he was very emotional about it, he wished his dad could have seen him growing up, he said he hoped he would have been proud.

He spoke of his dad like he was away on business, but ever present, cheering him on.

A few months later Todd called me from a fishing trip he went on with some guys from work. They hadn't caught anything except for a pretty heavy buzz. I remember hearing the boys in the background- giving him a hard time for spending all night on the phone. I was hooked. He was smart, he was kind, he was funny and determined, I told him he was mine, and he said "well alright, then".

By the time his sister Kayla got married, we were exclusively dating, he was looking at houses, planning his future, he called me from the wedding reception after several *ahem*.... beverages... and sounded like he was in tears. Very emotional Mr. Nice Guy said "I should have brought you with me, I love you Lindsey Green."

I knew that he did, and I knew I loved him too.

We didn't spend a day apart since. We had so much fun, and did so many fun things together.

In 2018 Todd bought our house. That November Todd and I participated in the boot walk to end cancer at MD Anderson in the medical center Houston with our then 5-year-old daughter.

Two weeks later, the pictures from that day would indeed be worth a thousand words.

Todd is rigid and predictable in his routines. He called me every morning to tell me good morning and called me every evening on his way home from work when he hit the Bentwater bridge. Every day without fail. You could set the clock to it.

Then one day the call didn't come.

They'd been abnormally busy at the shop, and he'd been stressed, they were working around the clock- not abnormal for them, as any machinists wife knows.

I called once. No answer...twice, no answer. Food was getting cold and I was getting angry! I thought.... he's already always at work... now it cuts into dinnertime? I legitimately thought he was probably standing around socializing after he punched out. Where is Mr. Nice Guy?

When the call came, it was EMS- Todd had a seizure at work and was being taken to the hospital to get a CT scan.

That cell phone might as well have been a hand grenade: im still looking for some of the pieces of our life.

Mike. My stepfather pulled into my driveway before id even hung up the phone. He didn't want me to drive.

We made it from Montgomery, TX to the hospital in the Woodlands, TX (usually a 35 minute drive) in 17 minutes, beating the ambulance- if you ever find yourself in the market for a getaway driver, i can offer my sincere endorsement... were Mike not so huge (he's 6'6" i believe) he may well have a future driving for Nascar.

Todd was confused and angry. He'd dented the bay door of his new machine with his head when he fell. He wanted me to call his boss and apologize for him...(I didnt call that day, but Don, I know youre reading this- sorry about the dent, he's got a really hard head ;-))

They found a golf ball sized lesion or tumor in Todds brain and he was scheduled for an emergency craniotomy, to surgically resect the tumor the following Monday. Dr. Garreth Adams was able to get 99% of the tumor, and Todd made a recovery that can only be described as miraculous. Theyd closed his wound with 27 staples on a Monday, he walked out of the hospital on his own two feet Wednesday, and was back at work the following Monday. Determined as hell- he wouldnt back down- he would fight. We would fight.

Pathology came back as a grade 2 astrocytoma. He started chemo, then radiation. His scans kept coming back miraculously well. We had hope. Life restarted, at the same time, COVID arrived, Todd got furloughed, I got furloughed, I got pregnant, I got laid off, Our son was born, school closures happened, homeschooling began. Todd got vaccinated, I got Covid. We started a business, planted a garden...we loved eachother, through the horror. Not perfectly, but neither one of us know how to give up.

When faced with chemotherapy the only question that Todd had was whether or not his beard was going to fall out... he has never complained, he has never blamed God or anyone else or said "why me?" thats just not who he is.

The next seizure would hit harder. He was scheduled for another surgery to resect more tumor, but would need to be awake. I had nightmares. Todd thought it was cool, and asked if they'd video tape it so he could see his own brain.

During surgery, Todd suffered a stroke. Subsequently he lost mobility in his left hand and foot. He would need to use a walker, then a cane, and used his right hand to pick up his left hand and arm and put it into place. He started physical therapy and occupational therapy....started recovery and worked his ass off regaining most of his lost mobility. The doctor's literally described it as unheard of. He was beating the odds.

The pathology this time had advanced. His tumor had morphologically evolved into a much more aggressive form of cancer. Labeled a grade 4 glioblastoma, or GBM, we had suddenly become the underdog in our fight.

While there is no cure for this cancer the scans continued to come back clean.

We were told this was as close as anyone had ever gotten to remission with GBM

It was during a follow up visit with Todds radiologist that it was determined he may have recurrent tumor, as there were recent changes seen in his MRI imaging.

The doctors said it could just be swelling, and we agreed to go to New York to participate in a clinical trial.

Then he fell.....and he fell again.

And again.

Then he bumped into a wall and shattered a glass shower enclosure while taking a shower. I picked glass out of him for weeks.

His left leg would buckle underneath him and his balance would go out the window. He couldn't keep both feet underneath him.

His tumor had returned with a vengeance and was now infiltrating the left side of his brain as well. No way to stop it, so we prayed. WE prayed, but i also begged. I screamed. I researched, I read, I tried to negotiate. At one point I tried to convince him to consume a massive dose of psychedelic mushrooms under medical observation.... you'll do just about anything when you're desperate.

Todd forbid me from starting a crowd funding page. He is not the type to ask for help, but Im a fixer, and I couldn't fix this. I told him I wouldn't give up.

Our children could not have been given a better father. He is kind, patient, generous, hes a good listener, he can fix anything.

My husband is the nicest guy I've ever met. He challenges me and makes me rethink my sometimes stupid impulsive actions. He has made me try to be on time. Like really genuinely try.

He's restored my faith in humanity when i turn into a cynic. He's demanded excellence out of me, and deserved every bit of it. He treats people with dignity and respect and deserves those things in return as well.

He is also unable to physically pick up our son. He isn't speaking much, and gets overwhelmed easily. Recently, he explained escrow accounts to me from his hospital bed, and told me to start building my credit. I am very much unprepared to take on this life we have built without him, and i have so much to learn.

He's tired.... and I know he's tired.

He was recently disqualified from participation in the clinical trial as his recent decline has rendered him unable to care for himself independently of my (or anyone's) help.

We are in the process of desperately trying to get him into another one here in Houston. Time is not on our side, and his team of physicians has recommended looking into hospice/ palliative care options, which i can't accept. I cannot accept that is the only option.

Please help me continue this fight for my husband. Help me stand up for Todd and keep refusing to take no for an answer.

I understand we are the dark horse in this race- but miracles happen every day, and no one is more deserving than Todd.

Your donations will go towards our expenses, todd's medical bills total well over a million dollars alone, and were it not for the gracious help of friends and family we wouldn't have been able to keep the lights on or buy groceries in this economy to feed our kids. Thank you for taking the time to read a part of our story and from the bottom of my heart thank you and God bless you all for your thoughts and prayers and for joining me and my family in our fight for Todd.

Bob, if you're listening, we could really use your help, and I know, looking down at your son, you've got to be so very proud.

With gratitude,

Lindsey Green Christensen

If you cannot afford to financially donate, we understand, the last several years has been hard on everybody! We would love it if in place of a financial donation you'd consider sending an encouraging card or letter, suggestions, recipes, comic strips or jokes, ice cream; anything. really whatever is on your heart. *

There's healing power in positivity, let's love him through this and keep him smiling.

Mailing address is

Todd Christensen

c/o Lindsey Green

309 Brocks Ct.

Montgomery tx 77356

*I'm happy to return letters and answer questions if anyone would like to reach out, I'll do my best to respond in kind.

**I know we are not unique, and everyone has their own fight, that's okay, please spread the word, and consider volunteering for companies and foundations that are attempting to secure funding to research this disease, the treatment has advanced some but changed very little in the last 3 decades and we are an example of how literal generations are suffering, something has to give.

I will link some options on my personal page and keep you all posted on developments in weighing out our options in founding a 501C3 ourselves.