You Have a Brain Tumor
Not the words I ever wanted to hear as a husband, father, and law enforcement officer. My wife had just lost her father to cancer two years earlier, and the word tumor was something we didn’t even want to whisper in our house.
It was October of 2010. I was working the night shift in my department, which was causing substantial sleep issues and mental fatigue. I began experiencing other health problems that prompted a visit to the doctor to see if we could find a solution. After a battery of blood tests, they discovered several hormonal imbalances and prescribed medications in an attempt to get me back on track.
Months later, my follow-up blood work showed that most levels had normalized—except one. The prolactin level, produced by my pituitary gland, had not just stayed high; it had gone beyond the upper limit of the test. Normal prolactin levels are around 20. Mine exceeded the scale, which topped out at 150. This was a red flag, and based on his experience, my doctor ordered an MRI of my brain and pituitary region to see if anything abnormal was causing it.
The MRI revealed a “mass” or tumor forming around my pituitary gland, located above the sinus cavity, behind and between the eyes. The doctor explained that a normal pituitary gland is about 1 cm. Mine was approximately 1.5 cm. I responded, “That’s not so bad—it’s small.” He looked over his glasses and told me that for this type of growth, the size was “substantial.” The pituitary gland sits in a space that fits it like a glove, right next to the optic nerves and sinus cavity in front of the brain, so there’s very little room for anything extra.
The good news: they didn’t think it was cancerous. The bad news: they believed it was growing, and continued growth could cause more hormonal problems as well as vision loss. The plan was to treat it with medication in hopes it would shrink, then follow up with an MRI in six months.
At the time, my daughter and son were still small. I was the primary breadwinner, working third shift, and had just started a Master’s program at a local university. The stress was intense.
I am unapologetically a morning person—always have been. Working overnights was killing me, figuratively and, it now seemed, maybe literally. About a year later, my doctors told me they believed third-shift work was a major contributing factor to the tumor’s growth, as it forced my body to operate against its natural circadian rhythm while also dealing with the stress of law enforcement work.
I began the medication and waited for the next MRI in March 2011. In the meantime, I battled depression and anxiety. I worried about cancer. I worried about surgery, hormone therapy, losing my sight, and losing my job. To be honest, I was scared of the unknown. I leaned heavily on my wife and my faith, and I also found strength in my relationships with family and a few close co-workers.
Studies such as the Harvard Study of Adult Development have shown that strong, quality relationships are the best predictors of a long, happy, and healthy life. They reduce stress, boost the immune system, and improve mental health by combating depression and anxiety. (www.adultdevelopmentstudy.org) I didn’t know about the Harvard study back then, but I did know that being around people I connected with made me feel better.
The March MRI showed that the tumor was responding to treatment and had begun to shrink—very good news. It meant I likely wouldn’t need surgery to remove the gland. The plan was to keep taking the medication and repeat the MRI in December 2011. Many friends told me they were praying for me. I also made a point of reconnecting with people I hadn’t spoken to in a while. My depression and anxiety didn’t vanish, but I did feel a growing sense of relief.
On December 29, 2011, I went in for the MRI. I was nervous—had the tumor shrunk further, or grown back? I had no vision changes, so I had a bit of optimism. Due to the New Year’s holiday, I had to wait for results. The letter finally arrived on January 6, 2012:
Dear Phil:
Your MRI of the pituitary with and without contrast was compared to October 2010 and March 2011. The original mass seen in the right half of the pituitary was no longer visualized as a discrete entity. There remains some mild asymmetry to the pituitary gland. The pituitary stalk is deviated slightly to the left. The spaces lateral and superior to the pituitary are all normal. This is excellent news.
My eyes locked on the word normal. The tumor was gone! This was better than I could have hoped for. I cried happy tears this time. I stayed on the medication until March 2012, when my blood work came back with normal prolactin levels again. For the next couple of years, I had regular follow-up tests and MRIs—all normal. The sense of relief I felt is hard to describe.
I stopped working overnights in mid-2011 and left law enforcement in 2013. It’s a difficult career, and my department had its own unique stressors that ultimately convinced me it wasn’t the right path for me. Thanks to my Master’s degree, I transitioned into the corporate world, where I’ve been able to find success.
What keeps me grounded, though, is volunteering with Hometown Hero Outdoors. Helping veterans, law enforcement, and first responders—those who have served and sacrificed—brings a deep sense of purpose and keeps me connected to the community I once served.
If you’d like to volunteer with Hometown Hero Outdoors and help others through outdoor therapy, contact us at info@hometownherooutdoors.org.
Phil Ewert is the Content Development Coordinator with Hometown Hero Outdoors and provides voiceover and media production for the organization.
