HJBR May/Jun 2023

HEALTHCARE JOURNAL OF BATON ROUGE I  MAY / JUN 2023 13 body flopped uncontrollably on a gurney too small for him. The same emergency doctor, who was not in the roomwhen that happened, addressed me after they had sta- bilized him and told me, “He did not stop breathing.”Hearing that out of that doctor’s mouth frightened me, because Smith had clearly now stopped breathing twice. I wit- nessed them both. I wasn’t sure if Smith was coming out of this alive. The staff’s tone changed completely when the MRI came back. His left brain was so filled with a tumor, the midline had shifted. Smith was very docile. He had had two major seizures that day and wondered why the word “Glioma” was written on the board in his room. I told him, “They think something is wrong with you. They think it might be brain cancer.” He asked me to not say that because it couldn’t be and that saying it, aloud, might make it real. Unfor- tunately, I knew it was. The social worker was brought in, she pulled me aside, and whispered, “You need to get your affairs in order.”The neurologist and hospitalist both showed up and explained what was happen- ing to Smith. I saw himput on his game face. He was feeling better and wanted to get this problem solved. The man I knew was back! Step one: find the right brain surgeon. I now knew, more than ever, the importance of getting your loved ones into the hands of a “good doctor,” no matter where you have to travel. Funny thing, when you call the top brain surgeons in the country, you get an immediate phone call back from the surgeon. You may wait months to get an appointment with any other special- ist, but I was so impressed with the per- sonal response I got from the ones I called. Smith decided he wanted to go to Seattle; it was always on his bucket list to live there, and the University of Washington Medi- cal Center’s Neurology Clinic was ranked No. 5 in the country. It was a match. Smith found Eric Holland, MD, PhD, online, read his credentials, and wanted him. He was at Fred Hutch Cancer Research Center and had retired from surgery but said he would pull our team together, which he did. Holland gathered our surgeon, neuro-oncologist, and neuroradiologist on an email and we were conversing instantly. That was aThurs- day. On Friday, we left our home. Smith had an appointment with the surgeon on Mon- day and brain surgery on Tuesday. In that area, Holland is known as the “godfather of glioblastomas,” but to me he was an angel. He would, and to this day will always, pick up his phone, usually on the third ring, and patiently answer any questions I have. What a gift these older doctors can be to us all. The day of brain surgery really was like a pregame for Smith. He was always quiet before a game, preferring to reserve energy for the field. I realized quickly that other lessons learned on the football field were translating in life; like a good coach, he was building his team. And he became a players’ coach; he wanted to know how they were, for them to like and respect him, and he let his players play. They were chosen for their abilities. You can do that when you have star players, which I felt like we did. Except on the day of the surgery, when a very enthusiastic doctor I had not met intro- duced himself to us and told us he would be performing the surgery, alongside our cho- sen surgeon. I realized then we had chosen a teaching hospital and what that meant. Under normal circumstances, I don’t have a problem with being part of the learning process for a physician. I feel it is impor- tant for us to do — paying forward and all that stuff — but this was brain surgery. We chose the doctor we wanted out of all the ones in the world, and it was not this one. No offense to anyone, but we wanted the first-string player. I asked if the surgeon we had chosen was coming in before the operation to see us and the doctor was unsure. When he left, I expressed my concerns to Smith. He asked for some alone time. He needed to center. I again found myself pacing, this time around a nurses’ station. They kindly asked if there was something they could do for me. I explained what was going on and asked what they would do if they were inmy situation ... if it was their husband who they loved. They gave each other that knowing look seasoned nurses give, and one quietly told me, “If this concerns you, you should bring it up with the surgeon and make it clear what you want. I will ask him to come see you before the operation.” God, I love great nurses. The surgeon confirmed what was now suspected from the MRIs: Smith had glio- blastoma, which is the fastest growing, most deadly form of brain cancer. It is a diagnosis Smith and Dianne in 2019, days after a large tumor was found in the former college football player’s brain, and moments before brain surgery. 2023 postmortem pathology from Smith’s brain donation revealed a comorbidity of CTE.