Graduate doesn’t let rare cancer stop him

Fighting a brain cancer and looking for a job

By: Kara Fitzpatrick
   After the initial thrill of commencement wears off, college graduates everywhere this spring are apt to mull their fate — where to work or live and, in general, what is in store after years of perpetual studying.
   But while recent graduate Jimmy Fang considers where he might land his dream job as a computer programmer, he also contemplates whether his MRI on June 8 will be clean, if the 42 days of chemotherapy combined with 30 days of radiation were effective and if another brain tumor like the first — the size of a small clementine — or the second — with its fingerlike projections — will return.
   Mr. Fang, 32, of Princeton Township was diagnosed in October with anaplastic ganglioglioma, a rare form of brain cancer. And despite a seven-month battle with the illness, he earned his diploma in computer science last week from Rutgers University.
   "I didn’t think it was going to be a big deal," Mr. Fang said of graduation, modestly conceding that it turned out he was slightly proud of himself that day. He completed his coursework and was prepared to graduate in the winter, but because of his illness, commencement was delayed until this month.
   Mr. Fang, who served six years in the Army Reserve, speaks humbly about how his life was suddenly upended last fall.
   While preparing for graduation and interning at Johnson & Johnson, Mr. Fang began developing headaches that prohibited him from concentrating.
   "Every day it was getting a little worse," he said. Despite taking Motrin after Motrin, he explained, the pain persisted and a week after the headaches began, he went to the hospital. Within hours, doctors discovered a 6-centimeter tumor in his brain.
   The following day, he underwent surgery to have it removed.
   "It came on really fast," Mr. Fang said, adding he had always been in excellent health. Since doctors believed that the tumor was benign, no chemotherapy or radiation was ordered. "They didn’t think it was going to come back," Mr. Fang said of the tumor.
   So, three weeks after surgery, Mr. Fang resumed his normal life; he returned to his post at Johnson & Johnson, resumed playing tennis and went back to working out at the gym not far from his Billie Ellis Lane home.
   But three months later, the headaches returned — and this time, it was no mystery exactly what was causing the pain.
   "I just said to my girlfriend, ‘Hon, here are the keys. Let’s go (to the hospital),’" Mr. Fang recalled.
   In February, Mr. Fang had brain surgery to remove the second tumor and later that month, he simultaneously underwent chemotherapy and radiation.
   Throughout his ordeal, Mr. Fang said he rarely let the illness interfere with his everyday life — two weeks after chemotherapy began, he was back on the tennis court.
   "My tennis instructor was very surprised when I walked in," he said.
   While the surgeries have taken sizable portions of his brain, Mr. Fang said he feels the same as ever. "Nothing seems to have changed," he said.
   He credits his girlfriend, Debbie Persaud, with helping him get through.
   "She did so much for me, you don’t know how much paperwork is involved," he said. "If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know what I would do."
   And like most college graduates, Mr. Fang has been scouring the classifieds lately in search of a job.
   "I’ve been going to interviews," he says, lifting off his baseball cap to reveal a half-shaved scalp, "but the hair, it doesn’t help."
   And in June, he is hoping a brain scan will give him some good news. If not then — residue from chemotherapy and radiation can taint the images, he said — he hopes the July MRI will be free of tumors.
   While the anaplastic ganglioglioma will be with him for life — some have survived up to 18 years with the disease — he said he is simply focused on the next milestone. "Now, I’m just looking for a clean MRI," he said.
   Although the past seven months have likely taught Mr. Fang more medical jargon than he would ever have liked, he has also recognized a valuable lesson amid the white gowns, rubber gloves and medications.
   "Life is important," he said bluntly. "Live it."