St. Charles man living with brain cancer

Ken Bieschke's headache would not go away.

For three weeks, the St. Charles man took Tylenol hoping to dull the pain. He thought his sinuses were acting up again.

He could not have been more wrong.

A CT scan revealed the truth: Bieschke had a malignant brain tumor in his left frontal lobe.

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"It's such a radical change," he said. "Everything was fine, I had a headache and 'Why are we doing a CT scan for a headache?' to 'Well, we're now going to go into brain surgery.' "

On Feb. 8, 2007, Bieschke was diagnosed with a malignant glioma, the same diagnosis Sen. Edward Kennedy received May 19. The prognosis is often a death sentence, although the amount of time a patient lives depends on several factors.

Surgery, chemotherapy

According to the American Brain Tumor Association, Bieschke's tumor, Glioblastoma Multiforme, is the most common of the 42,000 primary brain tumors diagnosed each year. A primary brain tumor originates and tends to remain in the brain. Though no official word has been announced, some cancer specialists have speculated in news reports that this type is the tumor found in Kennedy. The Massachusetts senator underwent surgery to remove as much of the tumor as possible June 2.

It grows from glial tissue, or the supportive tissue of the brain that binds cells together. The Stage 4 tumor is the fastest-growing -- and, therefore most dangerous -- classification of tumor.

This kind of tumor results in death within two years in more than 90 percent of patients, while other brain and central nervous system tumors have a 62.7 percent two-year mortality rate.

Bieschke, 47, was told he would die within six to eight months. Factors taken into account for the estimates include a patient's age and general health.

He said the fact he was athletic has helped him survive a bit longer than expected, as has his outlook on life.

"You have to have a good attitude," he said. "You can make (life) a chore if you really want, but it's not. I see so many people that have worse lives than I do right now."

Four days following the initial diagnosis, surgery revealed the tumor was larger than doctors had thought. It spanned both sides of the frontal lobe.

Bieschke had surgery to remove around 90 percent of the golf ball-sized tumor on the left side, but they could not remove any of the tumor on the right side.

Thirty-eight straight days of early morning radiation left him exhausted, but radiation reaches directly into the cancerous cells.

He went through 11 sessions of Temedar, an oral chemotherapy drug, which ended in April because of decreased effectiveness.

Although the surgery was not an easy choice, Bieschke said he's happy he chose to go through with it. "We got another year out of it. We really did," he said.

Bieschke as mentor

Jake Krzeczowski dedicated his 2007 high school football season to Bieschke and another family friend.

The St. Charles East senior wide receiver etched Bieschke's initials on his cleats.

The Krczezowskis lived next to the Bieschkes for 10 years in Bartlett before they moved about seven years ago.

"Ever since I was little, he always talked to me like I was his age," Krzeczowski said. "He never treated me like I was a little kid. I really appreciated that."

His treatment of Krzeczowski resonated with the players he coached.

On May 1, after Bartlett High School girls soccer lost to St. Charles East 2-1, several players looked for Bieschke in the stands. Bieschke coached them on the Bartlett Hawks youth traveling team and they wanted to find him and give him a hug.

One of those players was Alexa Tovella. Her father, Mike, also coached the Hawks while Bieschke was there.

"He knew how to get the girls up for the games," he said. "He was always positive, a great personality."

Bieschke said he was moved by the players' gesture.

"I love seeing those kids," he said. "For them to come up and into the stands feels pretty good. It's a great feeling."

Bieschke coached the Hawks and the St. Charles Storm, a traveling basketball team, for four years.

Mike Stahulak also coached the Storm. "He cared about all the kids, even the kids that may not have been the best player," Stahulak said.

Off the field, Bieschke kept things light with his sense of humor.

Tovella said he could also get philosophical at times during practice.

"I enjoyed even going to practice because just standing on the field with him and just talking about life in general, it was always very intelligent," he said. "He taught the girls life lessons besides just the game of soccer. He continues to do that with his battle."

From scare to surgery

Bieschke woke up April 15 unable to speak.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the words out. His immediate thought was about his home-based job as a salesman.

"It was a very, very scary feeling," he said.

He and his wife set up an appointment with his neuro-oncologist, who upped his dose of the steroid dexamethasone from 1 milligram a day to 8 milligrams a day. The tumor had regrown. It had also moved to the parietal lobe, the same area Kennedy's tumor is in.

Later, it was determined he would need "minor" brain surgery, which was performed May 23. Doctors placed a small container under the scalp to receive medication directly. He will now take Avastin, which is a relatively new brain cancer treatment designed to delay a tumor's growth.

As a result of his increased steroid dosage, Bieschke said he feels on edge and has experienced dramatic weight gain. His normal weight before the tumor stayed right around 190 pounds. But because of the steroid treatment his weight climbed to 250 pounds.

At times, people don't recognize the usually fit and athletic Bieschke.

"I miss my exercise. I miss my basketball."

Dealing with 'monster'

In December 2006, Barb Bieschke thought she and her husband might be heading for divorce.

He was irritable, lethargic and mean-spirited, traits she never associated with Ken.

"You're just married to a different person," she said.

Barb called her sister, who asked if something might be going on with Ken's job. Two months later, the Bieschkes received the bad news.

The tumor caused the personality change. Ken criticized Barb's cooking, something he had never done.

"Usually, just in order to encourage me to cook, he'd be like 'This is great!' " Barb said with a laugh. "For the first time in his whole life, he wouldn't hold back."

After the surgery in February 2007, it got worse.

"I wasn't a very good patient, I wasn't a very good spouse, I wasn't a very good father," Ken said. "I wasn't much of anything."

Barb explained to their children, Tyler and Caren, who were 14 and 16 at the time, that Ken was not the same person.

"We just kept telling the kids that was just the monster within his head," Barb said.

Though the family remains in high spirits, Barb can't help but look ahead to what might happen down the road.

"It's very sad because it affects the way that you process language," Barb said. "When it gets later down the road, will he understand when I look at him and say 'I love you?' "

No time for regret

While Ken Bieschke likes to keep a positive attitude, there are times when he can't help but ask himself "Why me?"

"You gotta wonder sometimes," he said. "Why couldn't it have been some other (person)? There really is no answer as to 'why me?' "

Nonetheless, he is busy enjoying the time he has.

"What are you going to do? Sit there and cry in your milk? It doesn't work that way," he said. "Are you on borrowed time? Yeah, but it's good borrowed time. If I can get another six months out of this, that'd be great. If I get two months out of it, that'd be great, too. It's been a great ride."