The neurologist smiled at us like we were overreacting. I am Julie Crawshay, and I will never forget the day I pushed for the scan that revealed my husband's glioblastoma — the day everything changed.

Trusting what I knew

Nic had been having headaches. His speech had started slipping in small, strange ways — words that would not come, sentences that trailed off. I pushed for a scan. We were told he was probably fine. He was not fine. The MRI showed a tumour. Stage 4 glioblastoma.

The hours nobody prepares you for

The moment nobody prepares you for is not the diagnosis itself — devastating as it is — but the hours and days that follow, when you are expected to make enormous decisions while your nervous system is in shock. I remember sitting in the car park afterwards, unable to remember how to start the car.

Why I tell this story

I share this because trusting your instincts matters. You are allowed to push for the scan, to ask the question, to say "something is wrong." That instinct is part of why I now advocate for other families through The Neuro Farmacist. If you want to understand where my advocacy grew from, read my full story.

The day everything changed was also, in a strange way, the day my purpose began.