Read more about Tim Connelly’s glioblastoma journey below the graphic, including treatment details.

Tim Connelly 1963-2024

Tim was my husband, my soulmate, my best friend and the love of my life. In the summer and fall of 2022, Tim’s personality was changing. I didn’t understand it or why it was happening, and never did I think it was medical. In October he started having these periods of phantom smells, disorientation and confusion that would last a minute or two. The doctors thought this was long term covid. In January he was calling out to work and I knew something was wrong.

His primary care ordered an MRI, and we got the call 2 days before Tim’s 60th birthday party. There was a mass, and he needed to see a neuro oncologist ASAP. We had his party and didn’t share the news with anyone except our 2 boys. Looking back, I could see in his eyes that it wasn’t him.

February 16, 2023, Tim had brain surgery. They got about 80% of the tumor. From there he started Chemo, radiation and entered a clinical trial with Optune. Tim was a trooper. He never complained, was optimistic and always had hope and was looking forward to the future. In October 2023, Tim had a stroke. He came out with a weaker left side and loss of his peripheral vision. And still he was optimistic and up for the challenge.

In July 2024 we decided to stop the Optune. He was using it for 17 months, but it affected his walking and balance, and he wanted to have more freedom to live. Around the same time the chemo Temodar stopped working so he started Lomustine. With Lomustine it meant weekly blood tests, limiting his liquid, adding salt pills and infusions every 2 weeks. It was a lot but still Tim had a great attitude.

By November 24 Tim was struggling. He was still independent, but his left side was weaker, and he had some difficulty walking so he walked very slowly and carefully. His MRI was ok, but he was not ok. His memory was slipping. He was confused and he was losing who he was. But he was still holding on to the little independence he had, and he was optimistic that things would get better. We started hospice on 12/2/24 and on 12/9, one week later, Tim fell down the stairs and shattered like glass. He died in inpatient hospice on 12/13/24. I lost the love of my life, and my kids lost their hero.

Tim’s doctor was the best and the team was kind, compassionate and wonderful to us. Tim liked them and we were grateful to have them. I want to help with OurBrainBank because there needs to be more awareness and more research done for this deadly disease. I will miss my husband every single day of my life and I will do what I can so that someday this disease can be treatable.

My son wrote in his eulogy:
While it was a tough time for all of us, we did cherish these past 21 months and grew closer as a family than we ever had. Through it all my Dad stayed strong, optimistic, and always continued to look out for all of us.

For example, due to his sickness he oftentimes would have issues sleeping and/or be confused as to what time of day it was, this would result in him being awake very early in the morning. Because of this he would offer to wake me up for when I had to go to work. I would decline this offer as I didn’t want to put that pressure on him but when he remembered he would still check to make sure I was up, even though he would often do this much MUCH earlier than I had to be up. He would also make coffee every single day and every morning when I saw him, he would let me know there was coffee for me to take to work. Only one time did I take the coffee with me, but he would still make sure I knew every day that it was available. He would also make oatmeal for my mom every day until it became too hard for him to do so. He was always trying to help in whatever ways he could.

When my dad fell, he must’ve been in immense pain. He broke more bones than I can think of. As he was sitting on the ground waiting for the ambulance he said, “I’m looking forward to feeling better.”

When he was in the hospital despite his injuries he said, “I’m looking forward to sitting and relaxing at home.” Despite what he was going through he continued to be optimistic and looked forward to better days. And while he did not get to leave the hospital and his injuries did not heal, he is now home with God, his parents, and his sister, and I know that he can now feel better and relax.

In the hospital we would ask him how he was doing and every time he said, “I’m OK.” He never said anything different even with the horrible circumstances he was in. Even on his death bed he was still making jokes because he wanted to make us laugh. At one point he even asked me how I was doing, which ended up being the last question he ever asked me and one of the last things he said to me. He was always looking out for us.

My Dad was my best friend. He was someone who was always around to hang out with. Even before he was sick there was never a time when he would decline my company or say he didn’t want to do something with me. While sometimes he was too tired to shoot hoops or have a catch, he would never say he didn’t want to just that he couldn’t at the time, but he would ensure we would another day.

We were all so lucky to have had him in our lives and I’m so lucky to have had him as my father. Thank you for being you, Dad.

— Kathryn Connelly & family, December 2024