Staff Writer
Tim McNeill's attitude toward his brain tumor can be summed up in his cell phone's ringtone: Don't Fear the Reaper , by Blue Oyster Cult.
Jackie Ricciardi/Staff
Tim McNeill; his wife, Cindy; and son, Dylan are from North Augusta. A year ago, Mr. McNeill received the same diagnosis of a malignant tumor as Sen. Ted Kennedy did this week. Mr. McNeill says he is doing well, which his wife believes is a result of humor.
A year ago in June, Mr. McNeill was diagnosed with the most aggressive form of malignant glioma, which U.S. Sen. Ted Kennedy might also have. But he decries the sort of "doom and gloom" prognosis that has accompanied news of the veteran lawmaker's illness this week.
"I had to call my mother because it's going to scare her to death," said Mr. McNeill, 47, of North Augusta.
Glioblastoma multiforme is the most common form of brain tumor, accounting for 12 percent to 15 percent of them, and is the most aggressive, with most patients lasting an average of less than a year, according to the National Cancer Institute. But Mr. McNeill and his wife, Cindy, argue those survival rates don't take into account more recent advances.
Patients who got the surgery, radiation therapy and chemotherapy drug Temodar, as Mr. McNeill did, have longer survival rates. A study from India last year found the median survival rate was 16.4 months, with 29 percent living to a second year; a similar study in Italy in 2007 found a median survival rate of 19 months with that treatment regimen.
Comparing Mr. McNeill with Mr. Kennedy is "a very good way to look at what the issues are with Kennedy," said Augusta neurosurgeon Mark Lee, who removed Mr. McNeill's tumor at Medical College of Georgia Hospital.
"People that have a relatively good prognosis with a malignant glioma -- they're young, they're healthy, the tumor is in an area of the brain that is amenable to complete resection," Dr. Lee said. "Tim is that." With Mr. Kennedy, "He's got everything going against him."
There is another thing the McNeills think is an advantage for them: Mr. McNeill's sense of humor. Ironically, it was Mrs. McNeill's birthday June 11 when she finally dragged Mr. McNeill to the Emergency Department at MCG to find the source of his months of lethargy and occasional severe headaches and droopy face.
"I thought I was just being overexamined," Mr. McNeill said jokingly.
But the results of a CT scan showed a large mass on the right side of the brain, and Mr. McNeill was admitted to the hospital for surgery in a couple of days. Now sporting a large scar across the top of his head, he was determined to leave the hospital days later under his own terms. He dispatched his wife and sister to find fake bolts, which he fixed to the side of his neck to become "Timmenstein."
After getting extensive radiation therapy and shaving off the rest of his hair, he posed for a photo as Uncle Fester from The Addams Family , complete with a glowing light bulb in his mouth, as though lit by him.
"And people believed it," he said with a laugh.
The prognosis is still very poor in general for these patients and whether there is reason for optimism about current clinical trials could be a "half-full or half-empty type of story," said Dr. Alfredo D. Voloschin, a neuro-oncologist at MCG.
"The positive sides are there are many things ongoing, whether it is tumor vaccines, whether it is gene therapy, whether it is anti-angiogenesis (blocking the growth of new tumor blood vessels), there are many things going on," he said. "To date, none of them have made a significant, dramatic improvement. We're not talking about cure or remission of these tumors, in general."
The McNeills prefer to take the half-full view. The couple have benefited from understanding bosses at Phoenix Commercial Printers, who have supported and allowed them time to recover and take long-discussed trips.
The couple also talk confidently of time ahead -- much time ahead.
"Tremendous attitude," Mrs. McNeill said of her husband. "It's a huge difference maker. He's still hysterical. That's how he deals with the whole thing is laughing at it."
"Having a partially empty head for once was an advantage," joked Mr. McNeill, whose tumor was the size of a racquetball.
Reach Tom Corwin at (706) 823-3213 or tom.corwin@augustachronicle.com.
