In January 2022, Charlie Broadhurst, a healthy, active 36-year-old Master Technician from Oxfordshire experienced a sudden and unexpected seizure at home. With no history of seizures and only a minor sickness bug at the time, there was little to suggest that there was anything seriously wrong. However, what initially appeared to be an isolated episode quickly unravelled into something far more serious.
What followed was a series of medical tests that ultimately led to the shocking discovery that Charlie had been living with an astrocytoma for over a decade.
Charlie tells his story…
It was January 2022, and life was pretty normal, being busy with work, school runs and the usual family chaos. What happened next lead to the discovery of a brain tumour I’d unknowingly lived with for 11 years. A tumour that was once misdiagnosed as sinusitis.
At the time I was recovering from a sickness bug. It was nothing serious, but Siobhan was sleeping downstairs to avoid catching it. I remember lying in bed when I felt a tingling in my lip, the exact feeling I used to get just before I had febrile convulsions as a child. I hadn’t had one in my adult years, and I thought maybe I was imagining it. I sat up, and that’s the last thing I remember.
The next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes and there are two paramedics standing over me. I had no idea what had happened, Siobhan found me unconscious, having a seizure, my head banging against the bedframe.
I was admitted to John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford where the doctors put it down to the bug and dehydration, nothing too alarming. They suggested a scan just to be safe, but no one said I should stop driving or gave me any medication. They referred me to the epilepsy clinic at the hospital, and we went home.
A couple of weeks later, I went to the clinic and the doctor told me I would need to give up my driving licence because of my seizures. That hit me hard, I’ve always loved driving, and my job depends on it. The doctor ran reflex tests and said I was in great health otherwise, but the doctor ordered an MRI just to rule anything else out and to be on the safe side.
I had the MRI at the John Radcliffe Hospital in early March. I’m claustrophobic, so it was a challenge. Then we waited and waited but I figured no news was good news. Then, out of the blue, I got a phone call one evening at 8pm from the consultant. He said to make sure my wife was with me before he’d speak. Siobhan was at work and didn’t have her phone on her. When my mum turned up at her work and that’s when she knew something was wrong.
Back at home, we called Siobhan’s dad and my parents to be with us. When the doctor finally rang back, he gave us the worst news, they had found a tumour on my brain.
Our whole world just fell apart. I don’t know anyone who’s had a brain tumour, but all I could think was, this is terrifying. It felt like our lives just split into ‘before’ and ‘after’.
What made it worse was what the consultant told me next. Back in 2011, I had a scan because I was having headaches. They told me it was sinusitis and nothing to worry about. But now, looking back at that scan, the doctor said the tumour was there all along. They missed it. I was horrified, angry, and heartbroken, and I couldn’t stop thinking, if I’d known then, I wouldn’t have wanted to put my boys or Siobhan through this.
On April 11, 2022, my birthday, I had another MRI to assess the tumour properly. They told us it could be an astrocytoma or an oligodendroglioma. If it was the latter, the prognosis would be better. But a follow-up MRI confirmed it was a grade 2 astrocytoma.
Siobhan, asked the dreaded question, “what is the life expectancy?” They said 10 to 20 years. On the surface, that doesn’t sound too bad. But when you realise the tumour had already been there for 11 years, you suddenly feel like the clock’s already been ticking without you knowing.
That hit me hard. I kept thinking that I might only have 10 years left with my wife and boys.
Surgery wasn’t an option at first. The tumour was too deep, and it was wrapped around critical nerves. But I couldn’t just sit and wait, not after losing 11 years to it. I chose to go ahead with a biopsy instead.
In July 2022, I went into hospital for the biopsy. I’d never even had a filling before, so this was all brand new and terrifying. On the morning of the surgery, the specialist nurse was sick. I had two choices: go home and wait for a new date or have the surgery while I was awake. I didn’t want to lose more time, so I chose to go ahead with the awake craniotomy.
They told me the risks. If I had a seizure during surgery, they’d have to induce me into a coma. I wrote letters to Siobhan and the boys, just in case. Thankfully, the awake craniotomy went well, and they confirmed the tumour was a diffused grade 2 astrocytoma.
They couldn’t do the full testing they’d planned, but they realised the location of the tumour wasn't as bad as initially thought and suggested another surgery to try to remove part of it. That gave us hope. I recovered well and we even managed a holiday in Cornwall, trying to hold onto something normal.
I went back to work and felt okay and waited for news on my next surgery, but months passed without any word. I stayed focussed and continued taking a day at a time.
Then in November, I felt that lip tingle again. I shouted to Siobhan, and I had another seizure. This one was worse, I ended up in A&E and had a full tonic-clonic seizure in the emergency room. Siobhan said it was like a scene from Casualty, with alarms going off and people rushing in.
I felt angry because this wouldn't have happened if I’d had the surgery. Then I was given more medication and waited again for a surgery date. Eventually, surgery was booked for February 2023. This time I knew what to expect, which oddly made it harder.
Recovery was rough. The day I got home, I had another seizure, this time I was fully aware but couldn’t move or speak. I was trapped in my body. It was terrifying.
I was taken back to John Radcliffe Hospital where they kept me in for monitoring. Then a few days later, we had a video follow up call regarding my surgery with the oncologist who told us they’d removed a good amount of the tumour. That was a relief. They recommended radiotherapy and chemotherapy, and I started treatment in March at the Churchill Hospital cancer unit in Oxford.
I was angry that they’d missed the tumour in 2011, and angry that my children had to go through this. I told the doctor that if I’d known, I’d have made different choices.
I had radiotherapy daily for six weeks. It was exhausting and I lost my hair. But I kept going to work, I needed something to feel normal. Then came chemo. That hit me hard and had bad reactions, fatigue but the sickness was the worst, so they switched me to tablets and stopped the sixth cycle.
The treatment’s had a lasting effect. I’ve lost the sensation in my left hand; I can’t feel when my wife holds it and I can’t do up buttons. My taste is off, and my sense of smell is stronger than ever. But I’m still working, and I’m grateful for that.
By early 2024, the oncologist told me the tumour had shrunk slightly which was good news. I’m under active surveillance now, with scans every three months. Fatigue is still a problem, and life is different, but I’m still here.
This whole experience has changed me. It’s made me see life differently, I’m more present and take each day as it comes. I know one day a scan will show it’s growing again. But for now, I’m just making memories with my family.
Siobhan has thrown herself into fundraising. It’s her therapy. She’s raised over £25,000 for Brain Tumour Research and is doing the 88 squats a Day in July Challenge to raise more. The tumour might be in me, but the trauma affects everyone, this is her way of fighting back.
I’ve been through surgery, seizures, treatment, and more, but I’m still standing. I’m one of the lucky ones.
You never think something like this will happen to you, but if sharing my story helps one person to get diagnosed earlier, it’s worth it.
Charlie Broadhurst
June 2025
One in three people in the UK knows someone affected by a brain tumour. This disease is indiscriminate; it can affect anyone at any age. What’s more, brain tumours continue to kill more children and adults under the age of 40 than any other cancer yet, to date, just 1% of the national spend on cancer research has been allocated to this devastating disease since records began in 2002.
Brain Tumour Research is determined to change this.
If you have been inspired by Charlie’s story, you may like to make a donation via www.braintumourresearch.org/donate or leave a gift in your will via www.braintumourresearch.org/legacy
Together we will find a cure.
