Editor’s note: This article mentions and discusses suicide and depression.
A Vancouver man says he is trying to celebrate each day after a baseball-sized tumour left him with an uncertain future.
Guillaume Ferland was battling bad headaches in the fall of 2020. He participated in activities like Muay Thai and Jiu-jitsu, when his coaches suggested he might have a concussion.
“I just remember one night at work being unable to complete my shift and the next day going to the hospital.”
Doctors misdiagnosed him with a concussion around November of that year.
We spoke to both Ferland and his wife, Margaret Erickson, about what the three years since that autumn felt like. Ferland occasionally had difficulty speaking, but Erickson quickly supported her partner when he needed assistance.
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A reality that complicated Ferland’s health struggles was that COVID-19 meant that people couldn’t be seen in person in some cases.
They saw countless doctors, specialists and other health practitioners and none of them saw the tumour on the scan, which also highlighted their discontent with the BC medical system.
So, Ferland’s headaches continued, and they thought it was just a concussion.
When friends would suggest that it might be a tumour, the couple made light of it because of the concussion diagnosis and quoted Arnold Schwarzenegger.
“It’s not a tumour!”
At one point, Ferland was enrolled in a post-concussive syndrome support group when, in reality, as Erickson states, he had a tumour, “which was squishing his brain to one side.”
“So it was a series of unfortunate events,” Erickson recounted, adding that many people were probably misdiagnosed during that period of the pandemic.
The headaches would prevent Ferland from everyday activities like watching TV or looking at a screen, and then he could not walk outside in the dark due to being super sensitive to lights.
“Suicide was on my mind, 24/7,” Ferland said.
Erickson said that Ferland didn’t remember New Year’s Eve that year.
“He made these gourmet burgers, and we sat there and played cards and watched the fireworks, but he has no recollection of that night.”
One day in February 2021, Ferland didn’t wake up, and Erickson called an ambulance.
“He was awake and breathing, but he was unresponsive,” Erickson said.
Everything changed when they got to the hospital. Within an hour of getting there, a doctor came out and informed them that Ferland had a large tumour in his brain.
“We’re doing surgery within the hour,” they were told.
“And so that was a Grey’s Anatomy episode. It was the most shocking thing. I was wailing uncontrollably in the waiting room because it was actually so shocking.”
Erickson said the days that followed were the most terrifying and hilarious at the same time. She had shown him a picture of Brad Pitt, and he had no idea who he was.
Thankfully, they got the whole tumour, and he was back to work, and everything seemed normal. The surgeon estimated that the tumour would likely regrow within five to 10 years and at that time it would need to be taken out again. Ferland was 33 at the time.
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The tumour was a grade II atypical meningioma. Unfortunately, it grew back by the end of 2021, and Ferland did 30 days of radiation to begin 2022. The tumour doubled in size by that time. In March 2022, Ferland had a second surgery and took a permanent leave from work shortly after. After all treatment options were explored, his oncologist gave him six months to two years to live as a prognosis. To make the most of the time left, Ferland and Erickson got married and travelled.
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Erickson referred to it as “really going full YOLO.”
Highs and lows
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Some of the lows during this period included thinking, “Are we gonna have kids?”
“We always envisioned that for ourselves, but what does that look like when you might not have that long to live?”
However, the highs included a newfound appreciation for Ferland’s support network, like friends, family and even people who they didn’t know that well but who felt invested and connected to Ferland’s story.
“I really can’t imagine how people can do this without a support network,” Erickson said.
What some might perceive as another high also had an aspect that wasn’t so great.
Ferland received some good news recently: the tumour is taking a nap, and there has been no significant growth over the last year.
“I’ll tell that to everyone,” Ferland said.
Responses to the news are usually like, “That’s amazing” or, “Oh my god!”
“I literally didn’t expect to make it past Christmas last year, so there’s a good feeling to be able to be here longer than I had planned.”
But, Ferland reflected that he is sort of just “living in limbo” and, in some way, also putting Erickson’s life in limbo.
The relationship between Ferland and Erickson felt like a high point, with Ferland referring to Erickson as his rock and the couple sharing lots of laughs during our conversation.
Another high is their participation in the upcoming Tour de Cure, which occurs between August 26 and 27. While their team, along with 2,000 other riders, were worried the 200km ride between Cloverdale and Hope would be cancelled due to wildfire smoke, things have cleared up enough and the event should go as planned.
Ferland’s story has so far raised over $30,000 to benefit the BC Cancer Foundation.
“I realized that riding Tour de Cure would give me something to focus on and work towards.”
Before this, Ferland thought he was only working towards his death.
“And beating Zelda,” Erickson quipped.
We asked Ferland what his biggest takeaway or lesson was from this experience.
“Connection with people. Our ability to connect with others is an important aspect of happiness. And I’ve been able to do so by sharing my story because it allows me to reconnect with people in my life, rekindle old friendships, strengthen my existing ones, and create new ones,” he responded.
“Life’s short, you know?”
If you’d like to donate, click here.
- Crisis Services Canada 1-833-456-4566 or text 45645
- Crisis Line Association of BC 310-6789 (no area code)
- 1-800-SUICIDE (in BC)
- For more resources, visit the CMHA site.
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