Happy Father’s Day, A Personal Update, and We’re Still Battling

It has become something of a tradition for me to write about the Trophy Husband on Father’s Day. Over the years, those posts have typically been lighthearted tributes to his role in our family and his ever-growing legacy built by captaining an insane number of USTA League teams. This year, however, that tradition carries a little more weight. Today, I am sharing recent developments in Troy’s ongoing health saga.

A little over a month ago, we found ourselves thrown into a whirlwind of medical uncertainty when the Trophy Husband was diagnosed with a brain tumor roughly the size of a tennis ball. The weeks that followed were filled with scans, consults, surgery, and waiting. We recently received the pathology results, and while the news wasn’t the best-case scenario we had hoped for, it also wasn’t the worst we feared.

The tumor was cancerous. It carries a Grade 4 designation, but crucially, it is not currently categorized as glioblastoma, the most aggressive form of brain cancer. However, had this occurred in 2019, glioblastoma would have been the diagnosis. Fortunately, medical research has recently discovered a mutation that is present in Troy’s tumor. Despite its Grade 4 designation, it will exhibit traits more characteristic of Grade 2. Most notably, it is believed to be relatively slow-growing. The neuro-oncologist believes the mass that was removed from Troy’s brain a couple of weeks ago had been growing quietly in his head for at least a decade.

What lies ahead is a marathon of treatment that starts with six weeks of concurrent radiation and chemotherapy. Following that, there will be an additional year of chemo cycles. It’s going to be a grind. The particular protocol he will be under is the result of fairly recent medical breakthroughs, and the early data is promising. Many patients with a similar condition are now reaching the five-year cancer-free mark. That might not sound very long, but it’s only been five years since this treatment even became an option. Our fervent hope is that science will outpace recurrence, buying time with every step forward. Now more than ever, we understand and appreciate the value of medical research.

On the tennis court, a grueling match often demands endurance, strategy, and a willingness to fight for every point. That’s the mindset we are channeling now. Troy’s fitness and balance—honed over years on the tennis court—have already paid dividends. His strength has helped him bounce back from major surgery, and we’re betting it will also help him better tolerate the months of treatment to come.

The support we’ve received has been humbling. Our tennis family has shown up in ways both big and small, wrapping us in a network of strength, love, and generosity. And beyond that, friends outside of tennis have rallied with equal intensity. This experience has made it clear: the lines on the court may define the game, but it’s the relationships off the court that truly sustain us.

We’re not out of the woods, but we’re no longer lost in them. We’ve got a plan. We’ve got world-class doctors. We’ve got each other. And we’ve got a community that reminds us daily that we’re not in this alone.

The road ahead won’t be easy—but we’ve cleared the first hurdle, and we’re still in the match. One point at a time.