Dave’s story
The period of the Covid-19 pandemic changed life for everyone across the country, but for Dave it had an additional unexpected impact in revealing an undiagnosed brain tumour. Dave shared his remarkable experience with us, and talks about what he’s now doing to raise awareness and funds for others facing the impact of a brain tumour diagnosis.
I’m 43 years of age, a dad of four and married to a fantastic wife, Rachel with whom I have a nine year old son. I’d just like to say that without the support of Rachel I would never have come as far as I have in my journey and recovery.
My story also involves the dreaded Covid-19. I work as a Detective in Staffordshire Police and my role was dealing serious and complex investigations. This is naturally a highly stressful job
I had been suffering from headaches for a number of years. Around nine years ago I had a change in personality – something which I never recognised until now – and I became fixated on work. These warning signs/symptoms were ignored as I just put it down to work related stress due to a heavy work load.
The impact of Covid-19
Having spent my best efforts to avoid Covid I tested positive in June 2021. I had no symptoms of Covid at first. However, two days in I had what I can only describe as an explosion in my head. The pressure was horrendous and my head felt like it was in a vice. I couldn’t put my head down or rest as it was so bad. I slept kneeling on the floor with my forehead resting on the edge of the settee.
This continued for a number of weeks and at this point I decided to contact my GP as I was concerned I may have long Covid. At this point I had also lost strength in my right arm, I was struggling to lift my arm up over my head and I was struggling to clench my fist.
My GP sent me for an urgent CT scan. I still had no idea that it was anything other than a complication of Covid. The thought of a brain tumour never even crossed my mind.
Life changed with a phone call
The results of the scan came back two weeks later.
On 28th July 2021 I spent the day at the National Arboretum as there was a royal opening of the new memorial for fallen police officers. I’d had a few missed calls on my phone throughout the day, but wasn’t in a position to speak with anyone until I got home. I remember I got home just before 7pm. It was the start of the summer holidays and my son had his friend over for tea. I hadn’t been in the house long when my phone rang again.
The GP had been trying to contact me all day to give me the results of the scan. GP’s were still not seeing patients face to face because of Covid so I know it couldn’t be helped, but I was told over the phone that I had a brain tumour.
The shock of being told I had a brain tumour was devastating. My life was torn apart in that split second. I had never felt so scared and helpless in my whole life.
Scans showed a satsuma sized tumour
This news was absolutely devastating and completely floored me. I had gone in a split second from a hard working guy with a whole future mapped out to realising very quickly that my life would never be the same again for me, or my family.
I don’t know if it was the stress of the news, or if it was me actually acknowledging the symptoms were worsening instead of trying to explain them away, but I ended up in A&E and had an emergency MRI.
I was discussed at the next meeting with the specialist and I saw them the following week. I was told the only treatment available to me was surgery and that there were a lot of risks that come with the operation.
Fear of surgery
I was hesitant because, although I had never been in hospital before, my Mum hadn’t had the best experience. She was misdiagnosed and she passed away from cancer. I was also overweight and concerned about the impact that would have during surgery. I asked if the surgery could be delayed to give me time to lose some weight, but the consultant wanted to operate the following week due to the size of the tumour.
To try and get my head around the need for surgery I tried to imagine how big the tumour was. It was only when my wife went around the kitchen with a ruler and realised the tumour was actually the size of a satsuma, I came to terms with the fact that surgery was the only option.
We told our son pretty much everything. The surgery was high risk, the recovery would be long and we didn’t want to keep anything from him as kids always pick up on things anyway. When we showed him the satsuma, he decided he was going to call the tumour Eric.
Removing Eric
On the day the surgery was planned we were told to be at the hospital for 7am, but with nerves and having had no sleep, we were at the ward at 6am. We waited… and waited. At about 10am we were told that they weren’t going to be able to operate due to a lack of critical care beds. Again, another knock-on effect from Covid.
The scar from a complicated but successful operation
The surgery was rescheduled for 16th September 2021. I had a call the day before asking me to go in that evening, but they weren’t hopeful that the surgery would go ahead as there was an outbreak of Covid on the critical care ward.
The hospital were going to cancel the surgery again, but the consultant had insisted that the surgery must go ahead and I had to sign a disclaimer to say that I was aware of the outbreak. I wasn’t allowed visitors on the ward and had to say goodbye to my wife in the waiting room.
Despite some complications, surgery went well. They found the tumour had wrapped itself around the main vein in my brain and I had a substantial blood loss as they tried to scrape it away.
Sadly, as a result, it could not all be removed. However, the biopsy showed that it was a low grade meningioma and because there was only a small bit left behind, other treatment options would now be available if the tumour begins to grow again.
Knowing that we live in a bungalow, the nurses were keen to get me home as soon as possible because of the Covid risk. I think in a way this helped me because I was in familiar surroundings, was able to see family and was in sole control of the TV remote – there had to be one benefit out of all of this! Despite being squeamish, my wife had to inject me for a week after coming home and religious bathed my head to make sure I didn’t get an infection.
A second chance
I was told that I had had the tumour for between 10-14 years, and also that due the tumour being wrapped around the vein, I was only months if not weeks away from collapse. So I am one of the very few people that can say Covid saved me. If I had not caught Covid I would have continued to ignore my symptoms.
I know I am in a very fortunate position and have been very lucky to get a second chance of life. I want to get the message out about my story to raise awareness so other people don’t ignore their symptoms and seek help and advice as early as possible from their GP’s.
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- Dave in his younger days before he was ill
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- Dave, on right, in September 2015, when he was already having symptoms
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- Scans showed a satsuma sized tumour
Awareness of symptoms
I am determined to raise awareness of the dreadful disease that is a brain tumour, to encourage people to look out for symptoms and not to ignore them.
Looking back over the last nine years a number of things now make sense to me and I realise I had been displaying symptoms for some time.
- I had headaches a number of times a week. I felt tired but still struggled to sleep.
- My personality changed. I became fixated on things like work. I was always working and had to get involved in every investigation. I would flit from one thing to another. I would often rant in emails.
- I had pins and needles in my thigh which I used to put down to nerve damage after being struck by motorcycle a couple of years ago.
- I gained a large amount of weight and had problems with my vision. I was initially diagnosed with type two diabetes. My blood pressure was really high.
All this was put down to stress at work, poor health and poor work life balance.
The symptoms of the tumour are the same as so many other conditions which I was able to explain away. Little did I know, there was a tumour growing inside my skull, slowly killing me.
Day to day impact
I also want to raise awareness about the life changing impact brain tumours can have on your life.
Although I look physically fit and healthy the impact on my day to day life is massive and the issues are not always obvious to other people.
- Following surgery, I had to surrender my driving licence so straight away I lost my independence. I have had to rely on my wife, friends and family to drive me everywhere.
- I have to take numerous tablets each day and I need help from my wife to make sure I take the right ones at the right time as I am now easily confused.
- I often find conversation is very draining. I fatigue very quickly and I then start to struggle to get my words out. It’s like I know what I want to say in my mind but I can’t verbalise it. It’s also really difficult to keep my concentration when other people are talking.
- My energy levels can be very low and I can find normal day to day activities draining. One of the worst things is I can’t play fight with my 9 year old son or wrestle with him anymore.
It’s been 6 months since surgery and I still have difficulty lying down. I can’t lie on my left side as I feel pressure in my head when I do. I can’t spend more than 1 to 1.5 hours in bed. I have had to invest in a reclining chair so I can sleep in a more upright position. I rarely sleep more than an hour or two at a time. I feel exhausted but can’t switch off. It’s really weird and hard to explain.
I have to be careful not to do too much in one go as if I do I can then have a couple of really bad days. If I’m having a really bad day, I struggle getting around, so it’s fortunate I live in a bungalow.
I can get very anxious and agitated for no reason. I have had meltdowns that come over me without warning and I can’t stop them. This can be very embarrassing which in turn make me more anxious.
You hear the phrase ‘hidden disability’ banded around all the time, and to be honest I never really understood it until now.
Dave receiving his Long Service Medal
The worst impact has been on my career. My thought processes are all shot to pieces. I struggle to process information and follow instructions. I used to love reading books but I struggle to read more than 3 or 4 pages now because I get brain fog and I feel pressure building in my head. I often misread words and it takes me a while to interpret what I am reading.
After surgery I had trouble writing but I kept trying a few words at a time. It was upsetting not even being able to spell my children’s names correctly.
Just four weeks after my surgery I was proud to receive a Long Service and Good Conduct Medal, but I have been told that it is likely my days of frontline policing are over. I now have to manage what my day to day life and career will look like going forward.
Keeping positive
However, I don’t want to just be negative. There have also been positives since my diagnosis.
Work have been very supportive. They have continued to keep me on full pay, my supervisors have been brilliant and very supportive to myself and my family. I am shortly going to a Treatment Centre where they have a special brain injury nurse. I will be going as an inpatient, four weeks in total. Two weeks for brain and sleep training where they will also teach me coping mechanisms and then I will be having two weeks of intense physio.
The other positives are it has caused me to slow down and appreciate people around me. I always did appreciate my family and friends and what they do for us, but probably never knowingly showed it.
I have become much closer to my family who have been amazing. My marriage is much stronger. Rachel tells me that my personality has gone back to what it was eight or nine years ago. My son has been a superstar throughout all of this, although he has tried to hide he was worried.
The number of headaches I have had since surgery I can count on one hand. My blood pressure has significantly dropped and I have started to lose weight.
Obviously, the biggest thing is I am still ALIVE and doing very well considering all the risks and challenges I have faced.
My top tips on getting through the trauma of a brain tumour and all the problems it causes –
Be positive no matter what, and surround yourself with supportive family and friends.
I finally what to thank the brilliant Neuro team at the Royal Stoke Hospital for saving my life and all my friends, family and strangers for their prayers and support.
Dave Stubbs | March 2022
Doing some fundraising has really got me motivated and is keeping me going.
Having seen how important the right support is in coping with the impact of a brain tumour, Dave and his family are now doing all they can to help others, through raising awareness and funds with a Brain Tumour Support Champion Fund.
Visit their page and see the fantastic work they have been doing here: Dave and Elijah Superstar Champion Fund.
