Tag Archives: adversity

I’m On Top Of the World

 

What can I say!  I am humbled and blown away by the outpouring of love and support from so many.  To our Annual and Presenting Sponsors ShelfSpace Marketing, Carla’s Pasta and Specialty Packaging LLC. for making this night the best yet!  A HUGE thanks to Renee DiNino and iHeartRadio for being our emcee and giving us amazing coverage!  A very special thank you to Sullivan & LeShane Public Relations, Inc. and WTNH News 8 for sponsoring and bringing great awareness to this cause.  And while the list is too long, a big thank you to all of our sponsors who made the night possible and enabled us to pull this off.  Thank you Stony Creek Beer for hosting us again and your support during the month of September – you guys are great!

Nine years ago, I never would have thought I would want to talk about brain tumors, let alone that I would find it my passion.  As my doctor told you last night, I am cured of this and now it is my opportunity to give back and aid doctors and researchers find the cure, but to also be a ray of hope for those fighting this battle. Fortunately, we are on our way.

While we are not ready to share an exact dollar amount, I am pleased to share that we shattered last year’s efforts!!  Together, we took another step forward in helping doctors at Yale find the cure and I believe we will see the day.  And if you thought last night was a great time, get ready to celebrate my 10 years of survivorship in 2018!!  Get ready Cusano clan!

Thank you everyone! Check back soon or visit cusanosagainstbraintumors.com.

Changes In Latitudes, Changes In Attitudes

Another fun Cusano family vacation to Nantucket is in the books!

Whether it was on the beach, out walking around town, paddle boarding (yes, I did it!) or at Cisco Brewery, I was happy and carefree.  It is great to just wake up with no pressures – no phone calls or emails to respond to, no meetings to attend.  I definitely need to reward myself and take advantage of the time that I am afforded to do this more often.

However, I’d be lying if I did not acknowledge the moments where my mind wandered and I caught myself thinking about the past and the adversity I have overcome to get here.  It wasn’t feelings of sadness or depression, but rather, joy and jubilance.  If you had told me back in 2008 I would be riding a paddle board in the ocean, traversing through massive yachts, I would have told you that you were nuts. For the past nine years, nothing has been perfect – be it law school, the bar exam, seizures, weakness or more surgeries.  Yet, this week was an exception.

All of this made me realize that everything in life is in flux and nothing is permanent.  I watched the waves rush in and then wash out.  Ferries dropped people off and then came back to pick people up to bring them home.  As I sat on the ferry home, I realized that nothing is constant – we cannot bottle up good times and moments to take them home, but we can certainly savor them.

I said it earlier, and I’m saying it again – nothing in life is permanent.  While this may sound negative, it is not because it is reality. Just like life on the island, everything comes and goes.  The good, the bad, you have to just keep paddling.

As I learned at an early age, life is short and should not be taken for granted, so live it up.

Victorious

“Adversity.  We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.”

After 9 years of making adjustments and coping with bad news that seemed as though it would never end, today, I am victorious.

I spent the morning at Yale for an MRI.  As I laid in the noisy tube, I reflected on the past nine years and thought about what my life would be like if the scan was clear and the tumor truly was gone for good.  For nearly one-third of my life, I have made trips to Yale for surgeries, appointments, having staples removed, and MRI’s that ranged from 3 months to one year.  Going in today, and as I laid there humming to the tapping noises emanating from the machine, I knew there was the distinct possibility that this life experience could be a thing of the past after my appointment with my doctor.  But I take nothing for granted these days, including Ashley, my best friend and the one who has been there with me every step of the day since day one, when I called her after receiving this horrifying diagnosis.

Together, we stalled in the cafeteria until my appointment. Soon after, we went up to the consultation room, he walked in and delivered the news…

“Your brain looks pristine!  Everything looks great!”  He was pretty confident after the last scan that this would be the case and reminded me that he was pretty aggressive during the last surgery, so he was not entirely surprised.  I thought I was dreaming, albeit a happy dream.  Logically, the question “What should our plan be going forward?” was presented.  After a brief discussion, it was decided that I do not need another MRI for 2 YEARS.  Yes, you read that correctly!  If I ever need anything though, I’ll know where to find him.

I have not fully digested this news yet, and it has not quite sunk in.  Fortunately, this chapter of my life appears to have drawn to a close – and I don’t say this lightly. This battle has not been mine
 to bear alone, but that of my family as well – and without all of their support, I would not be here, writing to you.  They have played such an instrumental part in my recovery and never once stopped believing in me, nor allowed me to give up on myself or dreams.

I look forward to many more years of health and sharing my stories of hope, courage and inspiration with each of you.

Cheers!

That Spirit of Christmas

img_3995Here we are yet again – visiting, decorating, shopping and wrapping, all while maintaining a work-life balance.  It wouldn’t be the Christmas season without a little bit of added stress – and Coddington chewing Santa.  Last December, I wrote about enjoying the moment and enjoying the holidays, and I have frequently preached the same idea.

Despite all of my own advice, I am one of the worst violators at times.  Sure, I can chalk it up to eight years of MRIs, surgeries and seizures, experiencing let down after let down in the pursuit of my career, but the reality is that I have failed to count my blessings.  Life could have went in a very different direction for me in a heartbeat, but for whatever the reason, that wasn’t the plan.  No one is expected to be the epitome of a carefree, happy person 24/7, but, as I am reminded by Ashley, I have a lot to be grateful for this holiday season and every day – maybe like my friend Ebenezer I’ve been visited by the Ghosts of Christmas past, present and future in my sleep last night, because today it has suddenly become so clear.  With my perceived troubles, it is easy for me to forget how well things turned out for me.

Life is not guaranteed and there is simply no time to be down in the dumps.  This Christmas season and the beginning of the year is a time to start taking the advice I constantly dole out to others.  I’m not looking back.

On Monday night before the Ravens and Patriots squared off, ESPN opened the broadcast with a story that hit home.  My social media news feed was subsequently filled with the story of an amazing fighter from here in Connecticut battling brain cancer.  I cried as I watched this video, as I was overcome by profound sadness for Logan and his family.  As a Giants fan – thank you Tom Brady for helping to make this fan’s wish come true and the doctors at CCMC for giving him his own “# 12.”  I am praying for Logan and his family during the days ahead.  http://www.espn.com/video/clip?id=18266035.

As I watched this story, I was reminded once again just how lucky I am.  This one got me.  I am determined to live the renewed lease on life that I was given.

Here I am, eight years removed from what could have been, but I cannot find happiness on a day-to-day basis, all for no good reason. No more though.  I am going to live, love, laugh and smile more.

Finish your shopping and wrapping.  Enjoy the company of family and friends.  But find time to laugh and smile more  – not just around Christmastime, but all year long.  As the late, great Ray Charles said:

All the kin folk gather round
The lovely Christmas tree
Hearts are glowing full of joy
Sense the gifts that we’re giving
And the love that we’re living
Why can’t it remain
Oh all through the year
Each day the same
that’s what I wanna hear
I’ll tell ya
It’s truly amazin’
That spirit of Christmas

Walk This Way

One step at a time…

Last week, over 700 brain tumor patients, survivors, caregivers, family, friends and doctors walked and ran in the Path of Hope, a 5K to benefit the CTBTA.  As with all events, there were obstacles to overcome but that did not stop us.  The new venue worked perfectly and I heard many great compliments.  Additionally, we were faced with another event taking place on the same day and at the same location, but this too did not make an iota of a difference to our dedicated group of volunteers who adjusted to each punch thrown.  I saw determination and a desire to make this event just as great, if not better, than the previous two years.   Proudly, we can say, that goal was accomplished.

We had an impassioned speech from our President Emeritus and a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem.  New this year was a true 5K timed run to give those who wanted that experience and it was a success.  The walkers were located within the confines of the village and as each team came around the turn, I saw nothing but smiles, belief and hope.

The most incredible part of the entire of the day was witnessing the brain tumor community come together, and it is truly awesome to witness.  Never could I have imagined that there would be this community, let alone people who wanted to come together and celebrate their journey in what they have overcome or are currently facing.  Whether it was meeting Elli Haskes, a fifteen year old student whose mother passed away from brain cancer when she was five and who set up a table to collect items to create care packages for children whose parents have been diagnosed with a brain tumor, or Steve, an inspirational survivor whom would never let on that anything was wrong, and his caregiver Wendy, who radiates with positivity.  And to greet all of the patients and survivors, there was Supercow, img_1223the very animal I named in the hospital when my parents asked me who my dog was.  The handshakes, hugs and tears we exchanged are moments I will not forget and are the reason that I do this.  Thank you all for being there.

When I think about all the time and work that went into the event by everyone involved, it was all worth it as  I saw the joy that it brought to everyone.  The day was about raising awareness of brain tumors and doing our part to help find the cure.  It sounds odd, but there is truly something special when you have the chance to actually celebrate brain tumors with an amazing community of people whose lives have been affected by this awful disease.

Whether your tumor is malignant or benign, it is still a brain tumor and the effects are equally as devastating.  The best advice that I was given, and which I now give to you is simple.

Take it “one step at a time.”  There is not a day that does not go by where I do not think about it, or reflect upon how grateful I am, but to Ashley, my family, friends and all supporters – thank you for all you have done, and continue to do for me.  You have allowed me to take this and turn it into something great, and I am grateful.img_1452

I Wish That I Knew What I Know Now, When I Was Younger

Screen Shot 2016-06-29 at 9.37.10 PMHot dogs, burgers, beer, cookouts, fireworks and independence – all typical thoughts of the 4th of July (there is still no better memory than this photo from last year’s 4th of July getaway to Puerto Rico).  For me, my thoughts this holiday weekend will always be a reminder of my journey and battle.  In the blink of an eye, maybe not for all, my family included, this weekend will mark eight years since it all began.  I still remember it vividly, being wheeled into the OR on July 2, 2008.  Will I see my family again?  Will I remember everyone’s faces?  Will I be able to speak?  The list of questions goes on and on, but I knew it was my only chance of living, so this weekend, I will be rejoicing.  More importantly though, the past eight years have shown me how to live and what truly matters.  There have been many bumps in the road and unexpected twists that I did not foresee, all of which caused me to reexamine my life, my dreams and the ultimate pursuit of happiness, but I am still exploring and figuring it out.

At age 24, I was so focused on my life and pursuing my dreams, all to make as much money as possible.  Before starting law school, right through year one, I was, and still am to the extent I can be, overly ambitious.  Growing up, I saw my parents dedicate their lives to their children.  Whether it was Anheuser-Busch and driving back and forth to New York every day, Eagle Snacks, President of Cape Cod Potato Chips, followed by owning his own company, ShelfSpace Marketing, LLC, while simultaneously serving as the General Manager of Carla’s Pasta, my father was, and still very much is, a hard worker.  My mother is just as incredible, a true inspiration.  She not only raised my siblings and I, but she also taught us values and how to be a good person; she took care of the house and kept it spotless; always had breakfast, lunch and dinner ready – never failed; managed to drive all of us to lessons and appointments.  Remarkably, she did much of this while battling and beating breast cancer and never missing a beat, and is now a para-professional at an elementary school.  They always told my siblings and I: “hard work pays off.”

However, my life changed drastically between the ages of 24 and 32 and I am still waiting for my big break.  Life has been a struggle since my diagnosis – surgeries, extended hospital stays, cognitive rehabilitation, physical rehab, etc.  In addition, and as you know, I have struggled with passing the bar exam.  I still have sky-high medical and student loan bills that I have yet to make even the smallest dent in because I’m not using my JD as I envisioned.

Yet, I am still smiling because all is not lost, not even in the smallest sense.

If this ordeal has taught me anything, it is that life does not go according to plan.  Life throws you curveballs and you have to adjust accordingly.  Sure, I could have packed it in after that semester off and thrown in the towel, but I wanted to prove to myself, and any doubters, that I could excel and earn my degree.  However, what I did not know was that the initial three surgeries would not be the end, as seizures ensued, followed by a shunt revision, gamma knife surgery and one more craniotomy.  But I followed my heart and did what I wanted and have absolutely no regrets about how the past eight years have unfolded.

At 32 years old, I look at my life in quarters – the fourth quarter was pure hell.  It presented me with challenges and hardship, but now, with my renewed lease on life, I am restarting the clock and have an opportunity to explore new avenues and opportunities that perhaps would not have been possible had I gone down the path to being a lawyer.  I have been part of some great conversations of late, some of which are right under my feet.  I intend to continue exploring alternate opportunities with my firm; I just collaborated with the staff at the Yale Brain Tumor Center on content for its new website; I have been working with the Director of Special Events at Yale University on Brainstormin’ and am open to exploring opportunities there.  On the nonprofit side of things, I am the Vice President of the CTBTA and am intrigued by what the future there may hold.  I did not know how much I enjoyed fundraising and development, but it is an area that I truly enjoy, especially for a cause that I am so passionate about.

As I continue to reinvent myself, I get down on myself from time-to-time, due to what I perceive to be, “failures”.  Yet, at the end of the day, I am reminded that I still have all that is important.  As odd as it may sound, I feel blessed to have been dealt this diagnosis, as it made me a better, stronger person and has opened new doors and opportunities for me to pursue.  I am exploring life and doing things I never thought I would do.

On Tuesday, I was interviewed by iHeart Radio and was asked, “How has this experience changed your life?”

To try to answer that concisely was difficult, but as I told the interviewer, these past eight years have been eye-opening, causing me to reexamine how I live my life and taking nothing for granted and never losing hope.  We should all strive to live in the moment and not lose sight of what is important – family, health and friends.

“I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger.”

I’m Living My Life Like Its Golden

Being a brain tumor survivor can be lonely and scary for many, but one of the great things that has come out of this ordeal is that it gave me the chance to meet patients and survivors like myself, and to talk with them about their stories.  As I mentioned a few posts back, I wanted to offer up the opportunity for guest posts from some of the people I’ve met along the way.  Amazingly, and as you’ll read, the lyrics from the song we all heard time and time again growing up “it’s  a small world after all” is true.  This entry below is from an incredible survivor and person, Aisha.  

“Letting the joy unfold…it comes naturally.”

When Chris asked that I title my post with the title of a song, naturally I thought of Jill Scott’s “Golden”. Along with “Happy” by Pharell, Golden was often heard from my room in rehab. If you happened to walk by, you’d find me jamming in my wheelchair, basking in the sunlight pouring into my room. The powerful words inspired me to keep hope and my resolve in face of a difficult situation in my life.

My story started off benign from the beginning. No symptoms, no emergency. My tumor, or lesion as it was defined at the time, was an incidental finding on a routine CT scan following a concussion I sustained from a slip on black ice, early one dark winter morning. Months later, after four consultations, surgery was advised and I agreed. I underwent an elective neurosurgical procedure in which my tumor was removed in its entirety; however, a few days later I woke up completely paralyzed on right side. In many ways, it is then that I truly feel my brain tumor journey began. I was admitted to a stroke unit in rehab and remained there for two months after which I was transferred home. I struggled to learn to walk again, write my name, and do simple grooming. There was a time when I was in rehab that I was discouraged from working or even applying, but it remained my goal to work again and by the grace of a higher being, I was able to do so. I am now employed as an assistant academic director/assistant professor of health science for a graduate program. This May, during brain tumor awareness month, I will celebrate my 2nd anniversary since surgery and it will have also been two years of therapy.IMG_6871

In addition to the personal connection I have with Golden, it also connects me with Chris. After my discharge I still had great difficulty with walking and unfortunately was unable to attend a concert featuring Broca’s Area, a CT band in which Chris’ brother is the drummer. They were fundraising for brain tumor awareness and the article was the first time I learned of Chris Cusano, a guy around my age, from my town, and amazingly with the same rare benign brain tumor as me, a central neurocytoma. I didn’t actually meet Chris until several months later at a CTBTA meeting. Shortly after our first meeting, I attended my first CTBTA event, Laughter on the Brain, in Hartford, CT. My attendance that day was truly a blessing as I could not drive yet and my father surprised me at work. He drove me from Bridgeport, CT all the way to Hartford, CT. After I arrived, I remember registering for the event and making my way downstairs where they were serving refreshments and a performance by Broca’s Area was going on. As I was making my way down, I heard a familiar beat playing in the background and found myself grinning ear to ear. It was my song, Golden. I heard a beautiful voice on the mic, a performance Jill Scott herself would approve of. It was Kismet: my unexpected arrival, my first CTBTA event with Chris, and my song was playing. Through Chris, I met his beautiful wife Ashley and the Cusano family. As we stood by the bar listening to the band, I felt gratitude to have recovered enough to be able to hear my song live and to have found a friend in a fellow survivor.

Although I have always considered myself fortunate for having the tremendous support of my family and friends, to have the support and validation of another survivor is priceless. They say “birds of a feather, flock together”, and I feel this is very appropriate for anyone who has suffered from a brain pathology such as a tumor. Through the CTBTA, I have met numerous other brain tumor survivors and recently and more specifically, “benign” brain tumor survivors. Hearing your struggles as they are experienced by another individual provides a sense of validation that is difficult to find with caregivers and clinicians. After all, even I get tired of telling my friends, family, and even coworkers how my shoulder is sore or my leg is angry. Often I’ll joke that my left leg has requested a trial separation as it feels that it picks up too much of the work for the right. With Chris and CTBTA survivors, I could joke and hear their experiences and feel that “aha” moment. I walked away thinking, “yes, they get it”.

So now, I feel honored to be a part of a unique group of individuals who have been impacted by a brain tumor. We may be weathered by the experience but we have not exhausted our resolve. In fact, each of us has in some way decided to share our experience in case our struggle may resonate with someone else. True, the path has at times been difficult, but the memorable associations I have made along the way give me reason to smile and the strength to continue “living my life like its Golden”.