On the Trail to Recovery — 50 Miles for the ANA

In January 2024, after a sudden bout of hearing loss, I was diagnosed with an acoustic neuroma — a rare, benign tumor growing on the nerve that connects the ear to the brain.

At first, I was dumbfounded. For several months I wrestled with anxiety, learning about treatment options and sitting with all the what-ifs. My wife was just finishing her ENT residency — she had studied this from textbooks, sat with patients navigating it, and suddenly here it was, at home, in our life. We were both shaken in ways neither of us expected.

An acoustic neuroma grows slowly for most people, mine didn't. At five to ten times the typical rate, surgery became the clear path forward. On January 5, 2026, Drs. Sarah Mowry and Nicholas Bambakidis at University Hospitals skillfully removed my tumor, taking tremendous care of me and my family. I ultimately lost hearing on my right side in the process. We knew that going in, and it was the best outcome we could have hoped for.

Even with my wife's training and network, I felt lost in ways that medical access couldn't fully reach. The Acoustic Neuroma Association met me there. A packet arrived at my home. Online resources. And a repository of stories from people who had been exactly where I was — stories that brought real hope when I needed it most.

Oliver Sacks wrote that neurological adversities are "tales of metamorphosis... into alternative states of being, other forms of life, no less human for being so different." That landed for me. The body's ability to adapt is extraordinary. The mind is stronger than we give it credit for.

Since surgery I've run a trail half marathon at Mohican, the Cleveland Marathon, and on July 25th I'll toe the line at Burning River — my first 50-mile ultramarathon, through the Cuyahoga Valley.

Every dollar goes directly to the ANA to fund research and support others navigating this diagnosis.

Thank you for taking a moment to read my story — and for considering a donation to an organization that was there for me when I needed it most.

"Ask not what disease the person has, but rather what person the disease has." — William Osler