John Prince Brain Cancer Fund

When my dad, a writer, found out that he had a terminal brain tumor that would affect his ability to find his words, he said, “Words are my life. You live by the sword, you die by the sword.”

This is the cruel irony that my family faced over the Christmas holiday. Dad had been acting loopy and confused, and the day after Christmas we decided to take him to the ER. What unfolded was a nightmare. Doctors discovered a massive tumor across both sides of his frontal lobe (affecting mood, behavior, inhibitions, judgment, emotional processing and language) and a brain biopsy revealed CNS Lymphoma. Untreated, the tumor would spread rapidly and my Dad would live for another month or so. Treated with a biweekly chemotherapy regimen, his life expectancy is closer to a year or a year and a half, hopefully more.

In some ways, the diagnosis was a relief for Dad. It explains a lot of the strange physical and mental health problems he’s experienced in the last six months. He is 80 years old and still works full-time running his own publishing company, editing and writing books. He was understandably frustrated that he couldn't write like he used to, and for many months he was quiet and withdrawn.

Over the past week in the hospital, my family has experienced many versions of John Prince. His tumor has affected his ability to fully process the weight of the situation, which is a blessing. He knows he’s dying, but he is strangely matter-of-fact about it.

He is on steroids now that shrink the tumor, so he is more himself than he has been for months. Before this, we witnessed how bad it might get when the tumor continues to grow. Dad was childlike and oblivious - charming in fact - but certainly unable to drive or be left alone, to care for himself, or continue to work.

Even as I write this I think…I should have Dad take a look and give me his edits. It is difficult to process that though he is still with us, his sharp intellect has softened, and it is not coming back.

My mom was diagnosed with Parkinson's last year which affects everything she does and she struggles with mobility due to an ankle injury that will need a ninth surgery soon. My parents are very lucky to have health insurance that will cover most of Dad’s tests and treatments. However, Mom is devastated and very concerned about what the future will hold without my Dad’s income and as his disease progresses.

My parents are creatives. Dad writes surreal fiction, interviews people and writes their life stories, and writes for the local paper. He also designs book covers, weaves on a four-harness loom that he made himself, takes copious amounts of photos, makes experimental whirligigs, and draws in a sketchbook. He’s an organizer and a respected voice in his community. Dad showed me by example how to live a life of self-expression and giving back to others. Perhaps the only downside to this life well lived, is that my parents are not wealthy. And so when things take an unexpected turn (when the shit hits the fan, as Dad would say), we have to be humble enough to ask for help.

This fund will contribute to:

If you would like to read my dad’s writing you can buy a copy of his most recent book here: Wraiths in the Cloisters: Nine dark tales for sunny days https://a.co/d/bzG3RFc