My name is Grace and I am writing on behalf of my husband, Ryan. Many of you may know him lovingly as Rosie. Before August 2025, we were building our life together with every expectation that we had decades ahead of us. Today, much of that life revolves around Ryan’s medical care. We are asking for support so we can continue pursuing every reasonable option while celebrating every day we share. Ryan has devoted countless unpaid hours to the Las Vegas lacrosse community through coaching, mentorship and leadership. He has invested in young players and shown up for others year after year. To me, he is my husband, my protector and the person I want to grow old with. I want people reading this to know the life behind his diagnosis. In August 2025, our lives changed when Ryan suffered a prolonged seizure that required intubation and an emergency transfer from Las Vegas to Los Angeles. Doctors discovered a tumor deep in the left side of his brain, near areas responsible for speech and movement. At first, it was believed to be a lower grade tumor. By October, he had suffered another seizure and imaging showed further growth. As we sought specialized surgery, we also faced an insurance denial and an expedited appeal for the surgeon and hospital we had requested. In November, while we were on a plane flying to Los Angeles for his planned surgery, Ryan suffered repeated seizures. The situation became an emergency in the air, and he again required intubation after we landed. Imaging showed bleeding in his brain. On November 25, he underwent surgery to evacuate the hemorrhage and address the lesion. The final pathology from that operation showed an organizing hematoma: hemorrhage, with no glioma or malignancy identified in the tissue examined. This was another major setback. After a medical emergency and brain surgery, we still lacked a definitive tissue diagnosis of the underlying tumor. By March 2026, imaging showed that the tumor was progressing. Ryan underwent a second major brain surgery on March 25. Because of the tumor’s location and the need to protect areas controlling speech and movement, only part of it could safely be removed. In April, we finally received the diagnosis we had feared: glioblastoma, an aggressive grade 4 brain cancer. Ryan was 39 years old. That surgery began a long road of recovery. Ryan struggled with speech, memory, right-sided weakness and the loss of independence that most of us never imagine facing so young. Physical, occupational and speech therapy became part of our everyday lives. I watched him fight to regain things that once came naturally, from finding the right words to navigating daily life on his own. I have never stopped being proud of him. He began radiation and chemotherapy in May while continuing intensive rehabilitation. Treatment brought fatigue, hair loss, neurological symptoms and dangerously low platelets that temporarily interrupted chemotherapy. Still, Ryan kept going. He completed radiation in June, continues monthly chemotherapy and began using Optune, a wearable treatment for glioblastoma. Unfortunately, later imaging in August 2026 raised concern that the tumor remained active. Mayo Clinic reviewed Ryan’s case and recommended additional specialized imaging to determine whether another surgery could safely reduce the tumor. We continue seeking expert opinions and exploring clinical trials and other treatment options that may give Ryan more meaningful time. That search has taken us across Nevada, California and Arizona and may eventually take us even farther. I am Ryan’s primary caregiver, advocate and driver because he can no longer drive or travel by plane. I coordinate his appointments, medications, insurance, medical records and travel while continuing to work full-time and trying, above everything else, to still be his wife. The travel alone has become an enormous burden. Specialized care means long drives, gas, hotels, time away from work and planning every trip around Ryan’s medications, fatigue and physical needs. If a clinical trial becomes available elsewhere in the country, we want to be able to pursue it without finances being the reason we have to say no. We are asking for help with medical expenses, services not covered by insurance, travel, gas, lodging and the household expenses that continue throughout treatment. Support would also help us prepare for potential travel if Ryan becomes eligible for a clinical trial. More than anything, it would give us something that has become incredibly precious: time and energy to simply be ourselves outside of the countless hospital visits. Some days are hopeful. Some are exhausting. Through all of them, I want Ryan to know that he is loved beyond measure and that we did everything we reasonably could while still protecting the life we have together. To everyone who has cared for Ryan, prayed for us, checked on us, helped us or simply reminded us that we are not carrying this entirely alone, thank you and we love you so much. If you are able to contribute or share our story, you will be helping us carry a burden that has become too large for the two of us to manage alone. We cannot promise an outcome. We can promise that we will continue approaching every decision carefully, praying for God’s guidance and doing everything we can to pursue meaningful time together. Ryan is here and very loved! There is still a life we want to live and so much to look forward to.
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