Our Glioblastoma Fighter

UPDATE 7/18/25

On Friday, July 11th, my dad was discharged from the hospital after a stay due to increasing brain swelling that was not responding to steroids as it should. His condition upon discharge was extremely alarming, he was unable to walk or feed himself. He was completely dependent and physically worse than when he had first gone in. He was sent home on an additional steroid pill... now 4x a day and without the treatment plan that we had discussed with one of his oncologist, Avastin, which is an infusion intended to help reduce swelling. Despite the oncologist being in communication with his care team, the treatment was not started and they wanted to wait until his next scan at MD Anderson at the end of July, and was discharged.

Saturday, July 12th, he slept nearly the entire day. We weren’t immediately alarmed, he was on steroids four times a day, and this level of fatigue wasn’t entirely unusual. We tried to keep him comfortable and monitor him closely.

But on Sunday, July 13th, everything changed. We were unable to wake him. He was snoring loudly, but entirely unresponsive. We tried everything... screaming his name, shaking him, etc. but there was no response. We called 911. The paramedics arrived quickly and tried to rouse him, but they also couldn’t get him to respond. He was rushed by ambulance to the hospital.

When we arrived, they immediately performed a CT scan. The results were devastating: not only had the swelling worsened significantly, but it had now begun compressing his brain stem. This is an extremely dangerous and life-threatening development. The neurological team decided to start him on a 3% hypertonic saline drip to try and reduce the pressure in his brain. However, because he was not responding to painful stimuli and failed most neurological tests, the doctors prepared us for the worst. They were not optimistic that the treatment would work.

We spent hours in limbo as he remained in the ER. It took hours before they finally placed him in a room in the Neuro Critical Care Unit (NCU). He was placed on a ventilator and sedated, as he could no longer breathe on his own. As a family, we never left his side, holding his hands and talking to him, praying he could hear us.

On Monday, there were small, fragile signs of improvement. His eyes were sluggish but showed minimal movement. There was still no real physical response, but we clung to even the smallest progress.

Tuesday brought a little more hope! He began lightly squeezing our hands and even opened his eyes for brief moments. He was still heavily sedated and on the ventilator, but we saw glimmers of life in him.

On Wednesday, doctors removed the ventilator and transitioned him to low oxygen support. He was breathing on his own, though very disoriented and confused. We were encouraged when the neuro team said they were now considering starting Avastin after all. However, they needed to confirm he hadn’t had a stroke before administering it, as Avastin is a blood-thinning agent and cannot be given in those cases.

They ordered an MRI. The results showed that he had, in fact, suffered two strokes. one on each side of the brain, both caused by the intense swelling. We also realized this might explain why he hadn’t been moving the right side of his body.

Despite everything, later that same day... against all odds, he began showing new signs of progress. He moved his right side for the first time since this started. He began reaching out, squeezing our hands with intention, trying to lift himself from bed, and most beautifully, he was finally able to eat a few bites of food on his own.

We’re still in incredibly uncertain territory. The damage from the swelling and strokes is real, and the road ahead is going to be long and challenging. But we are also holding onto the fact that he is still here, still fighting, and slowly showing us signs that he hasn’t given up.

Please continue to keep him in your prayers. He is holding on and showing what God can do! He went from a 0% chance to breathing, talking, and eating again.

We are beyond grateful for every message, every call, every word of encouragement. They mean more than you know. Our family is walking through something we never imagined, but we are holding each other up with love, hope, and a whole lotta' FAITH.

Thank you for standing with us,

The Feurtado's

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UPDATE 7/8/25

Yesterday my dad was readmitted to the hospital. He’d become extremely lethargic and just wasn’t himself.

He had just started his 1st round of high-dose chemo (5/28 for 6 months), but his body didn’t handle it well. He was vomitting throughout the night and became very dehydrated.

He was in the middle of tapering off steroids, but when we got to the hospital, scans showed even more swelling than his last visit. So they’ve restarted him on high-dose steroids three times a day to help bring that back down.

He’s also still battling constant, intense headaches every day. It’s hard seeing him in this kind of pain.

Right now, we’re waiting on another round of MRI results to get a clearer picture of what’s going on and how to move forward.

Please keep him in your prayers. We’re taking things one day at a time, trying to find what brings him comfort and helps him feel more like himself again.

We’re so thankful for everyone who’s reached out, prayed, or simply checked in. Your love and support lift us more than you know.

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UPDATE 7/1/25

Update on Troy – Thank You & Continued Prayers

First, I want to sincerely thank each and every one of you for your kindness, generosity, and support. Your donations, prayers, and messages mean more to our family than words can express. We’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, and knowing we’re not alone in this has given us strength.

I wanted to share an update on my dad, Troy.

He began using Optune on May 22nd. Unfortunately, just before starting treatment, we began noticing changes in his cognitive function — a decline similar to what we saw at the beginning of this journey, but this time it progressed more quickly. He started experiencing severe head pain where the tumor had been removed, increased fatigue, memory loss, and difficulty finding words. Concerned, we reached out to his medical team, and they decided to move up his MRI by a month.

The scan results were somewhat reassuring — there was no new tumor growth or recurrence. However, it did show a highlighted area near the original tumor site that looked like scar tissue or necrosis, which they plan to monitor closely. There was no swelling noted at that time.

Despite this, his cognitive symptoms persisted, and the pain from the Optune device became too much. On Father’s Day, we took him out to eat and for some coffee. Once he got home he became suddenly cold, shaky, and disoriented. We took him to the ER, and he was admitted to the ICU with severe brain swelling, confusion, and aphasia. Over the next four days, he underwent four MRIs and was started on high-dose steroids to reduce the swelling.

After a detailed MRI, his care team concluded that what he’s experiencing is something called pseudoprogression — a reaction that mimics tumor growth but is not an actual recurrence. While scary, this was better news than we were expecting.

We were seen at MD Anderson on June 22nd, where a neurosurgeon and neuro-oncologist both reviewed his case and agreed with the pseudoprogression diagnosis. No surgery is needed at this time. The current plan is to taper off the steroids gradually, with follow-up scans and consultations scheduled for July 21st–22nd in Houston, TX.

Today, Troy is doing better than he was a few weeks ago, but he’s still not back to himself. The steroids are taking a toll — making him extremely tired and affecting his mood — so he sleeps most of the day.

We continue to take things one day at a time, holding on to faith and hope.

Anything at all helps — whether it’s a meal for the family, $1, or simply a prayer. We are so grateful for every act of kindness that has come our way. If anyone would like to reach out or help in a way outside of GoFundMe, please feel free to reach out to me.

Please continue to keep my dad in your prayers. We believe he will get through this and come out stronger.

We’re raising funds to help cover:

• Ongoing treatment costs not fully covered by insurance

• Travel expenses, including monthly trips to MD Anderson in Houston

• Medical equipment and at-home care

• Lost income and financial strain during this difficult time

With heartfelt thanks,

The Feurtado's

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On Valentine’s Day 2025, our lives changed forever. What was supposed to be a day of love and normalcy became the beginning of a journey we never expected. That morning, my dad, Troy underwent a six-hour craniotomy to remove a large tumor from his left frontal lobe. Thanks to Dr. Frank Culicchia and the incredible team at Culicchia Neurological, 99% of the tumor was successfully removed—a miracle and a blessing that gave us hope.

Shortly after surgery, we received the diagnosis: grade 4 glioblastoma—one of the most aggressive and difficult-to-treat brain cancers. Since then, my dad, a 52-year-old father of four and proud grandpa, has been fighting with everything he’s got.

He has completed the standard of care: six weeks of chemotherapy and radiation. The treatments have taken a toll—he's experienced memory loss and trouble with speech—but his strength and spirit remain unshaken. On May 22, 2025, he will begin Optune, a wearable device that uses electrical fields to slow tumor growth. Our first post-op MRI is on June 24, and we’ll be heading to MD Anderson in Houston on July 1st to explore further treatment options and clinical trials.

My dad has spent over 30 years as a crane operator, working hard every day to provide for our family. He’s the guy who never complains, always shows up, and quietly carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Now, it’s our turn to carry some of that weight for him.

Glioblastoma is a brutal diagnosis—there is no cure, and treatment options are limited. But we’re holding on to hope, research, faith, God, and above all, to my dad’s will to keep fighting.

We’re raising funds to help cover:

• Ongoing treatment costs not fully covered by insurance

• Travel expenses, including the trip to MD Anderson in Houston

• Medical equipment and at-home care

• Lost income and financial strain during this difficult time

If you’re able to donate, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. If not, please consider sharing this and keeping our family in your thoughts and prayers. Every bit of love and support means the world to us.

Thank you for standing with us.

With love, The Feurtado’s