Stephen’s Story

Site created on August 16, 2022

Welcome to our CaringBridge website. We are using it to keep family and friends updated in one place. We appreciate your support and words of hope and encouragement. Thank you for visiting.

On August 13, 2022, Stephen went to the ER for the second day in a row with the worst headache of his life. This is when the words “Brain Cancer” first entered and forever changed our life upon looking at an initial CT scan. "You have a brain tumor, and it appears to be cancerous." An MRI the next day revealed two tumors located in Stephen's left-frontal lobe with the largest about ~6cm. Other than "mild migraines" (a family history), we had no signs of brain cancer developing over time.

Stephen's craniotomy took place August 31, 2022 at University of Iowa Hospital & Clinics where they were able to remove ~90% of his tumor. Stephen's biopsy confirmed his diagnosis, “Glioblastoma, High Grade 4, IDH-Wildtype.” This has been described with words like: "the most lethal, most aggressive, the worst cancer." While not curable, it is somewhat treatable and Stephen is fighting to overcome the odds. This rare disease is different for every patient and family. While his biological markers and prognosis remain against us, we continue to live life the way we know best, while believing Stephen's brain cancer doesn't have to be standard statistics. His fight will be his own journey, and we’re here to back him every step of the way alongside him.

Two weeks after surgery, aggressive growth was already found in three areas. Radiation and chemotherapy started immediately on September 19th. Stephen completed almost 7 weeks of radiation (5 days a week) in Iowa City, with 5 weeks of daily concurrent chemotherapy (stopped due to low platelets).

Starting in December 2022, our next phase includes attempting several months of chemotherapy, making the most of our time, climbing one mountain at a time, and trusting in God's plan He has chosen for us.

Stephen has always been so positive and this doesn't change that. When this first happened, he said, "We don't have time to be sad, so let's make the most of today," and that is how we will choose to live each day forward.

Newest Update

Journal entry by Brittney Stepanek

A year ago today, Sawyer, Sylvia, Stephen and I spent the morning together as a family before he headed into his craniotomy to remove as much of his tumor as possible. Stephen remained calm and optimistic, even as surgery got delayed multiple times and multiple hours. God's strength, trust, and comfort was shining through him. We knew we needed brain surgery and a biopsy to understand what we were up against, to preserve his quality of life, and prolong any of our time. We were confident we'd beat the odds, that we'd see at least one year; that we'd celebrate his 38th birthday together. But that was not God's plan.

Today, he is not here.

 

Honoring Stephen how he wants

I proactively anticipated Sawyer and Sylvia asking me what we would do for Dad's birthday on August 26th. Just like me (and many of you), milestone events amplify our awareness of Stephen's physical void. So, in a little over a month to plan, with the help of the Bass and Christansen families, we got to work.

Last weekend, we still threw Stephen's 38th birthday party. In his honor, we extended his celebration to the public, and decided gifts that would typically be given to Stephen would instead be paid forward to others fighting brain cancer. Stephen's "Burger and Beer Benefit for Brain Cancer," gave us an opportunity to turn our pain into purpose, to work on something happier, and give Stephen's life more meaning ensuring his memory lives on.

We raised funds for an upcoming glioblastoma (GBM) clinical trial at the University of Iowa that Stephen believed in the most. While he didn't get the opportunity to actively participate using The Golden Halo, we will still do what we can for others to have the chance. Without a doubt, I know Stephen would've wanted us to celebrate his birthday rather than mourn alone. Stephen gave us all a special gift… He reminded us what matters most, taught us how to live life, and wants us to continue to do so. What a special evening. 

 

Stephen will help others fight brain cancer 

Our dear friend, Chad Winterhof (battling GBM for 2+ years), spoke at Stephen's birthday on where these funds are going, and why they are so important. Chad told me he found and felt inspiration from Stephen on what to say - and I know those words touched many of you.

We are on the frontlines of cancer, it is our responsibility to challenge for better; and if we do nothing, we can expect GBM to continue to take over our community and steal loved ones. GBM is unacceptable. But, extending survival and discovering a cure is doable. The Winterhof's and our family have teamed up and we ask you to join us. 

Chad not only helped build the first Golden Halo, but he is the first human to use the medical device, and is beating the odds. He stood before everyone this weekend, and reminded us to look at him and see, "I'm here" - our living proof, our motivation, our fire. This is the treatment Stephen hoped to get, but never got the chance to receive. We hope to break down that barrier for other families in Eastern Iowa battling brain cancer desperate for time and their life.

Chad shared the math for this treatment to save 1 million life's is calculated at only $600k. I've made a promise to Chad, his family, our kids, myself and to you - I will help raise that money in hopes others do not have to experience the grief and pain of losing a loved one. We have the opportunity to help save others, and all play a role. This journey is stronger together. Thank you to all of you for your support... but, we're only getting started! Far more work needs done, and we can't do this alone.

 

The most special gifts

Last weekend, over 200 people came together to help us honor Stephen, fight brain cancer, and give hope to others by raising $13,000 and counting... What a tremendous birthday gift.

Also a beautiful gift was to be able to come together with people Stephen touched, while giving back helping to pave a better path for others. We also met strangers impacted by brain cancer, and whom I feel connected to indefinitely. As our gift to others, we had a beautiful bench made, etched with Stephen's name, dates, and signature. For anyone who wants or needs to feel close to Stephen, feel free to go sit with him overlooking the fields in peace at Bass Farms, one of his happy places (Czech Cemetery where Stephen is buried is also still an option).

Sylvia smiled seeing luminous bags from loved ones with messages to Stephen sitting on his bench lighting up the party. Sawyer found joy seeing and being surrounded by many loved ones wearing shirts he and Stephen once shared. Together, Sawyer and Sylvia raised $1,500 in their own way (message me if you'd still like to purchase Sawyer's shirt). I am SO incredibly proud of them! My heart was full seeing everyone and showing me - we are not alone. You have showed up throughout this journey, and have kept your word you will continue to do so. The thanks is truly ours to give for these gifts that will keep on giving. At the end of the night at the farm, I saw a shooting star that I believe was Stephen's approval. We did good.

 

What comes next

School has started and the kids are doing well (all things considered). Sawyer is focused on soccer, and Sylvia is back in the dance studio. I'm slowly easing my way back into work with the grace of an amazing team, clients and company. I called this summer our "honeymoon" taking grief at our pace. Everyday different, but minimal expectations, and freedom to do what we needed. Getting back into a routine has its pros and cons. Now that summer is over, reality has seem to struck harder now that this is life without Stephen here. 

He should've been here for the first day of school, for his birthday, for college football opening weekend! Moments big or small, his void is felt, but we're doing our best to use it as an opportunity to talk about Stephen. "What would Dad say? What would Dad do? What would Dad pick? What would Dad like? What would Dad want?"  The kids talk openly and frequently about and to Stephen. It makes my heart smile that they are now bringing up Stephen on their own. Addressing Stephen doesn't always have to be sad. He wants us to find happiness. Stephen is listening, guiding, and protecting us. He is only a thought away. His love surrounds us. 

Until next year's birthday party benefit, continue to (use your "Stephen Strong" glass) toast and cheers to Stephen!

All my love,
Brittney

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