Forty-three-year-old Adam, from Worcester, was running his own business before his glioblastoma (GBM) diagnosis. The newlywed Adam first started suffering from headaches in December 2022, and was rushed to hospital in February the following year. During his ongoing battle with the high-grade tumour, Adam has undergone two surgeries and radiotherapy and chemotherapy; most recently having a successful craniotomy in August 2024.
Adam tells his story…
In December 2022 my wife, daughter and I, had what we believe was the flu. I was in bed for a few days feeling rough with the symptoms, one of these being bad headaches verging on migraines. My wife Rachel and daughter Georgia soon got better but it took me a while longer and the headaches didn’t completely stop.
Next month I returned to work as normal but still experiencing bad headaches on the right side of my head and constantly dosed up on ibuprofen and paracetamol to try and take the edge off. At times the headaches felt like I had been repeatedly hit in the side of my head, always in the same spot.
“I put the headaches down to work related stress, tiredness and the tail end of the Christmas flu.”
A trip to the GP and some blood tests didn’t reveal anything alarming; my symptoms all appeared to point at some form of migraine and I was prescribed some medication (amitriptyline, sumatriptans and co-codamol) to try and relieve the headaches.
I also decided to try some massage and acupuncture to help relieve the stress and headaches and while all this worked briefly, the headaches continued. I began to experience some mild confusion, loss of balance, and an inability to understand simple instructions.
With hindsight, my friends have told me about garbled text messages I sent that made no sense and noticed that I wasn’t my usual self but they also put it down to stress and a busy life.
This had been noticed by my wife and also my physiotherapist and one evening in February 2023 they decided that enough was enough and we needed to seek further help. Although I wasn’t entirely convinced, an ambulance was called to get me to hospital as I could no longer stand or walk. The paramedics came and checked me over in bed at home and agreed that I needed urgent hospitalisation.
It took three paramedics to get me out of bed and downstairs into the ambulance. All of this for a 42-year-old guy who six months previously was competing in 10k assault course style races and training three times a week in the gym and pool. Little did I know that my fitness would play such a key part in the journey that, unbeknown to me, I was about to begin.
I don’t remember the ambulance journey particularly but my wife was by my side right up until we reached the emergency department at Worcester Hospital and had to explain several times to different medics and doctors that I was unable to understand them or follow their instructions and that this was not normal for me.
I remember being cannulated but didn’t really understand why. I was then rushed straight in for a scan which I have no recollection of and in the early hours of the morning I was told that there was a 6cm mass visible and I would need to be urgently transferred to University Hospital Coventry (UHC). Around 4am my wife was called and the news broken to her, then later that morning we were back in another ambulance being blue lighted to UHC where a bed on the Neuro Extra Care Unit was ready and waiting for me. At this point I’m still not really sure what’s going on and I’m convinced that we should just go home and rest. Luckily my wife and doctors had other ideas and I was taken for further CT and MRI scans.
After a nights rest on the NECU ward we were met by a neurosurgeon and clinical nurse specialist who broke the news to us that the mass was an 8cm tumour which was very aggressive but operable at this stage.
“Something needed to be done quickly, time was not on my side.”
We discussed the options and associated risks (biopsy, craniotomy and debulking) and elected for a craniotomy and debulking with the neurosurgeon confident that he could safely remove around 80% of the tumour. Early one morning five days later and I’m off down to the operating theatre.
My surgery went well although it took longer than anticipated (around 12 hours) as the tumour didn’t want to play ball and I suffered a stroke which affected my left side, another scan on the way back to NECU from theatre to check things out and we were told that around 80% had been successfully removed, the remaining tumour to be dealt with using chemotherapy and radiotherapy as previously discussed with the specialists.
Lab results confirmed the tumour to be a grade 4 glioblastoma (GBM).
Following the stroke and my mobility complications I was discharged in a wheelchair but had to live downstairs in my home as I couldn’t walk. Subsequent neuro physiotherapy saw me learn to walk again using a frame but this was going to be a long process.
In April 2023 my wife and I started our new daily routine of the school run followed by a journey of almost an hour each way to the Arden Centre at UHC for radiotherapy sessions which would run for five days a week for the next six weeks alongside chemotherapy.
“Needless to say this treatment took its toll on me but a necessary evil.”
During one of these daily hospital visits I had an ophthalmology appointment in the stroke clinic as my vision hadn’t been particularly good. We discovered that I had lost the lower left visual field in both eyes, called a homonymous quadrantanopia, from either the tumour, stroke or surgery, and this was unlikely to ever return to normal. 
The end of May was the last radiotherapy session. No more wearing a rigid mask shaped to my head that was then strapped to an x-ray bed in a ‘bunker’ and having my brain zapped on a daily basis. I just about managed to complete 30 sessions and could now focus on the next six months of chemotherapy and getting some rest. The chemotherapy was taken orally at home one week a month with a three week rest and a trip to UHC every month to see my CNS, collect the next cycle of chemo and have blood tests.
In December 2023 I had an MRI brain scan which revealed that the treatment has been successful in reducing the tumour which was now 16mm as opposed to the original 80mm. I wouldn’t require any further treatment at present but would have a scan and review every three months to keep a close eye on things and if anything changed, the multi-discipline team at UHC would react accordingly and formulate a plan.
My first brain scan and CNS review of 2024 came in March, the conclusion being that the tumour is stable, the next scan and review is booked for June. The CNS team are always on the end of the phone if ever I feel that something isn’t quite right, which is fantastic support for myself, my wife and nine year old daughter.
In June I had my second brain scan of the year which revealed that the tumour had recurred, and was probably now around 3cm to 4cm already, but they had a plan. 
My neurosurgeon confirmed that he could safely perform a second craniotomy and debulking as soon as possible.
The surgery was successful with the post-op scan showing a complete resection so everything removed and the important bits back in.
The histology report was as expected, a recurrence of the glioblastoma, which meant more chemotherapy to try and delay the cancer and the inevitable next recurrence for as long as possible.
As of August 2024, I’ve recovered from surgery, mobilising with a walking frame or using my wheelchair for longer durations or if I’m fatigued.
“Since my tumour, stroke & treatment, my memory has been seriously impacted.”
I can describe in detail something that happened 20 years ago but my short term memory is very poor and I forget conversations and events from two minutes ago.
I struggle in social environments such as a shop or restaurant where there are multiple conversations taking place as it takes a lot of cognitive function to listen to, process and respond to each person. Social gatherings such as Christmas can also be tiring because of this.
My sight impairment can also be challenging but I’m learning to adapt to this by turning my head and scanning the areas where vision is missing.
“Dealing with these longer term effects is a case of adapting to a new, different normal.”
At least I’m left with most of my functionality present, allowing me to carry out most daily activities semi independently, something I couldn’t do immediately after my surgery and stroke when I was unable to cut my own food up, butter my toast or pour my own drink of squash.
A huge contribution in returning to some sort of normality and my rehabilitation is the irreplaceable support of amazing family and friends, not only for myself but also for my wife and daughter who, although not physically but mentally, have been living this nightmare with me.
Without the priceless support of our friends and family things would have been even tougher.
“It’s so important to raise awareness of this disease. It’s very misunderstood in comparison to other forms. People do not seem to grasp the fact that there is no cure.”
Even my friends appear to think that because I’ve had surgery and chemotherapy and at home now, I must be ok. They don’t understand that it will continually come back for the rest of my now limited life and that all we are doing with treatments is delaying the cancer to give me as long as possible.
Adam Chapman
August 2024
Brain tumours are indiscriminate; they can affect anyone at any age. What’s more, they kill more children and adults under the age of 40 than any other cancer... yet 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.
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