Community Member-Led Initiative

Our family’s life changed forever when my precious dad, Bob, was diagnosed with glioblastoma (GBM), the most aggressive form of brain cancer. Over the months prior to his diagnosis, our loved ones saw a gradual change in my dad, such as his memory being affected, his balance being off and his inability to always communicate effectively. While we attributed it to him possibly having early signs of dementia, like his father had, the doctors could never find anything. In September 2023, my dad underwent an MRI Scan, which at the time showed no signs of a tumor. Just eight months later, my dad was walking into his house and fell on the cement, hitting his head and bruising his face. My brothers took him to the Emergency Room, which further testing was done again. It was then, on May 25 th , 2024, that our family received the devastating news that our dad had an inoperable tumor, known as Glioblastoma (GBM). Not fully grasping the magnitude of what my dad was up against, my precious dad wanted to fight this evil disease. He underwent rounds of radiation and after being told that the tumor continued to aggressively grow, we didn’t want our dad to go through chemotherapy, due to his age. At the end of September 2024, the doctors told us that there was nothing more they could do for our dad. With hoping for one last attempt to save my dad, we went down to Phoenix for a second opinion and were told there was nothing that could be done; the tumor was still growing aggressively. Within a few weeks, on October 21 st , 2024, just shy of five months after his diagnosis, my precious father left this earth.

Anyone that knew my dad knew he was a very happy, selfless, giving person; he enjoyed having fun and being a light on someone else’s day. No one was a stranger to my dad; he often would say how do you make friends unless you are a friend and talk to others. If someone was in need, if he could, he always wanted to go help. He also loved football and watching most sports. He would often take the day off from work just to be able to watch the football draft. It is a joke in our family that our dad would call Football Sunday a sacred holy day. If I didn’t know something about sports, you better believe he would expect us to learn it and never forget.

Although the hope of our dad beating this evil disease is gone, his spirit and love of life live on through being a voice for Glioblastoma, thus bringing hope to other patients and their families. If one more person and their family could have a chance to live through this devastating diagnosis by advancing research, then the giving spirit of Bob Breech would continue to live on and bring joy to our family and friends. Like so many families affected by GBM, we’ve learned that despite decades of research, the standard care for this disease has changed very little. Families are still forced to face impossible decisions while hoping that research will create better options for the next person diagnosed.

That is why I am running in the Copenhagen Marathon in May 2027. Every mile is not only for my dad, but also every patient that has been affected, or will be affected, by GBM. Every dollar will support The Glioblastoma Organization and the critical research so desperately needed to advance treatment that will give hope and a better tomorrow for patients and families affected. My ultimate hope and dream are that one day in this lifetime a cure will be found.

Thank you for loving my dad and keeping his spirit of who he was alive by channeling this into giving hope for others receiving this devastating diagnosis after us. May one day we see that when a family hears the news that their loved one has GBM that they have hope instead of sorrow and despair all because we fought to find a cure and bring awareness. One day I believe that we will find a cure and hope will fill the hearts of others, thus shining the light of who my precious, selfless father, Bob Breech, was.

-Melissa -