by Erika Butler
My life changed forever on July 3, 2023, when I had a seizure and crashed into a house.
The police assumed I was drunk, but a CT scan told a very different story. A few days later, surgery confirmed our worst fear: Glioblastoma.
I was 47, at the height of my career, living my best life. Suddenly, I was planning my funeral, relying on my girlfriends for full-time care, and walking like a drunk toddler. What just happened? How did everything flip so fast?
But cancer couldn’t keep me down for long.
I adopted a new mantra: Keep Going. I learned how to travel with special assistance, and every Friday, right after Proton Therapy, I would escape to visit girlfriends in Atlanta, Florida, Colorado, and beyond. Laughter and friendship became my medicine.
Slowly, I rebuilt. I learned to live independently again. I bought a new car. I started driving. And 13 months later, I went back to work because I refused to let cancer have the final word on my career.
Two years later, I am still cancer-free, outliving my prognosis. My girlfriends were and still are my lifeline. They nursed me through all 12 cycles of chemo. Honestly, they dragged me across the finish line of that last one because I was SO DONE.
We celebrate every clean MRI like I just won the lottery, because in a way, I have. We take nothing for granted. Every birthday, every holiday feels a little more special. People always say I have the best tribe of friends they have ever seen. I don’t argue, because they are right. They are the best. We are walking this journey together, step by step, no matter what comes next.
