“I get up every day and I do the best that I can with the help of God…”

It was 1994 when Mark Brobst moved from Valley City, ND, to rural Grygla. After managing Lyle Kenner’s ranch for 11 years, the Brobst family purchased it in 2005 and have called the farm home ever since. Having been outside in clean air for most of his life, having never smoked and having no risk factors for lung cancer, Mark suffered a devastating blow when he was given a diagnosis of non-small cell lung cancer in February of 2016. 

“It was actually my wife, Colette, that told me I had cancer,” Mark recalls.

In the fall of 2015, Mark had a cough that just wouldn’t go away. Thinking it was a chest cold that needed to run its course, he waited it out. By Christmas time, his condition hadn’t improved. Thinking it was possible fungal infection, which is common for farmers to get, Mark decided to get it checked out. 

Cancer never even entered his mind. Not even once, he says.

Doctoring in Roseau, Mark was first given a chest x-ray. The doctors could tell immediately that something didn’t look right; Mark agreed after taking a look for himself. Undergoing a CT scan and a biopsy next, doctors kept getting inconclusive results; it was time to perform a surgery that would give them clearer answers.

Before going into his procedure, doctors informed Mark of what he could expect. The initial plan was to make a 3-inch incision and take a piece of his lung out. After waking up in recovery, he soon found out something different.

Early on in the procedure, the doctors had figured out that they were dealing with cancer. They needed to open Mark up more to try and get it. After an 11-inch incision on his side, doctors found that the cancer was wrapped around Mark’s esophagus and couldn’t be cut off. All they could do was remove the right lung, take off a sample, and put it back into his body.

Mark’s wife was given the devastating news first. It was she who then informed her husband of what the doctors had found. Mark says, “I remember before going in, the surgeon told me I’d know if it was cancer as soon as I woke up because I’d have a long incision on my chest. I remember waking up and feeling my chest right away…there was no incision there and I thought I was home free. After talking to Colette, I found out otherwise and that the incision was there on my side.”

The cancer was in Mark’s right lung and lymph nodes, and was classified as Stage 3B. Despite the unsettling news, the Brobsts remained positive. Mark began chemotherapy and radiation treatments almost immediately. The beginning of March through the end of June was a tough fight, but giving up was never an option. “I told everybody that this wouldn’t get me and I was going to beat it,” Mark nodded. The first week of August (2016) a PET scan was done and no signs of cancer were showing up. Mark had kept his word and beat his initial diagnosis. “You can’t imagine how happy we were,” he described.

The next few months brought happiness and relief to the entire family, but they would soon be given somber news once again.

In November of 2016, a routine PET scan was done. Something was showing up, but no one believed it to be cancer. There was a little spot in the lung that the doctors believed to be pneumonia and treated it as such; all tests came back fine.

At this point, Mark was also getting severe headaches. After some time, he could feel that something was going on and called his doctors. That was on a Monday. By Wednesday, an MRI of his brain was showing more than 6 lesions. “It looked like a shotgun blast to my head when you looked at the scan,” Mark described. The lesions on his brain were 5mm and not necessarily considered tumors or brain cancer, but instead lung cancer that had metastasized itself in the brain. 

“Lung cancer loves to go to the brain because it’s the same kind of tissue,” he explained. “Along with that, I was also told that my lung cancer was back. I just said ‘holy moly’ to myself and tried to process it all.”

Mark admits that when he first found out the news, he was mad and says he was in a terrible place with extreme disappointment. “It’s indescribable,” he shares. “I’m in a good place right now, but I wasn’t back then. It was hard to find that place where I needed to live mentally.”

What happened next?

His team of doctors informed him of the game plan. They explained that chemo doesn’t work in the brain because of the blood barrier; they would need to proceed with radiation, but only in his brain as radiation was previously done for his lungs and cannot be repeated on the same part of the body. 

The first round of the lung cancer was a smaller area, but now it has scattered out enough that Mark sometimes wonders how he’ll be able to fight it without the radiation. “My oncologist is really reassuring, though. He tells me that he has lots of weapons in his holster,” he smiled.

Mark was given a cortisone to help control brain swelling. He also underwent 10 rounds of radiation treatment on his brain, which was completed on December 21st. One scan was done at that point, which showed that the lesions were smaller, but that’s all he knows at this point. “I don’t know where I’m at right now,” Mark shrugged. “I finished that round of treatment, but now we just wait.” 

Mark has an appointment at the end of February and has kindly agreed to give an update at that point. Scans will be conducted and the doctors will be able to tell exactly where he’s at. Of that, he says, “I get up every day and I do the best I can with the help of God. I hope it’s enough. If it’s not…then it’s in God’s plan. That’s where I’m living right now.”

Mark’s attitude still remains positive. He was asked a variety of personal questions, and through each one, his positivity and humbleness shined through. When asked if this is something he can beat, Mark quickly responded, “I think I can beat this…I’m going to try, anyway. I just can’t jump ahead; I’d love answers, but they just don’t exist right now. I just have to wait and let the treatment do its thing.”

As for the negative side effects that he’s been experiencing, the cortisone makes him unable to sleep. “I only get about 4-5 hours of sleep during the night, but I take a nap every day. After dinner, the boys know not to look for me,” he laughed. “I’m also fighting pneumonia for the 3rd time since Christmas because my immune system is down. In addition, the chemo has made my feet hurt so badly and the radiation has burned all the mucous out of my sinuses, so going outside when it’s cold makes the blood run right out of my nose. I can also tell that my eyesight and brain isn’t working as good as it used to, but I have to say that this last round of treatment went smoother than the first time,” he added. 

In spite of all of those ill feelings, Mark still says the hardest part of having cancer is knowing how many people it affects. “What it does to me is minor, in my opinion. It’s harder for me knowing what it’s doing to those around me. My wife. My family. My friends. Everyone hates to be the downer and the cancer diagnosis is a downer for everyone around it,” he admits.

Mark stays so positive by not making things bigger than they need to be. He went on to say, “I try to keep it as small a part of my life as I can. Some days it’s bigger than I want it to be, but here’s my way of looking at it: I could be so mad and upset right now, but I’m really not. Here’s why; I have stuff that people would give their eye tooth for. I have stuff that perfectly healthy people might not ever have: the love of a good woman, the support of a great family and a terrific community. How lucky am I?! It outweighs having cancer. In fact, without it, I don’t know how any of this would even be bearable.” 

Mark said the community support has meant everything to him. “Honestly, you hope you never have to tap into that kind of support. But you’re sure glad it’s there when you need to. The support of the Grygla community and the amount of people that actually care is awesome. One of the greatest greetings I get on the street is an ‘I’m sorry’ and a hug. To me that is a great greeting. I usually respond with ‘I’m sorry, too.’ But what their sorry means and what mine means is completely different. They are sorry I have cancer, but I’m sorry for what it’s doing to them. That’s the hardest part for me. Through this, though, I have gotten so much support from the community. People will drop you a note or just go out of their way to tell you that they support you. Some like to offer their advice or pity me, but I don’t feel pitiful! I know people only do it out of concern, but listen, I’ve got two doctors working on me with over 40 years of experience! I like them both. They are smart and caring. But trying to figure out what they’re doing to me isn’t my job; it’s theirs; they are making the best choices for me and I trust in that.”

Mark also shared one of his most humbling experiences throughout this last year. Back in June of 2016, the Grygla community held a benefit for the family. “Colette was worried no one would show up. I told her not to worry about that and whoever comes, comes,” Mark got choked up, “400 people ended up coming that day.” 

The amount of support that the community has shown Mark and Colette doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Though he fears the unknown, Mark just wants to make it his goal to be a contributing member to his family and the Grygla Community for as long as he possibly can.

When asked what keeps him fighting, Mark confidently replied, “There is a lot that I haven’t done yet. I want to see Mike get married and I want to see some of my grandkids graduate; that might seem like a lofty goal considering my oldest grandkid is in 4th grade, but I want to see that happen. Let’s face it…I’m only 53….I have a lot more to do.”

Mark and Colette Brobst have three adult children - Clayton, Clint and Mike. Clint and Mike live in Grygla and have plans to take over the Brobst family farm, which currently operates with roughly 500 Angus beef cattle. Mark says he’ll continue to help the boys, but eventually watch from the backseat when the farm is transferred over to them. 

The Brobsts are also blessed with six grandchildren. Mark says those youngsters are a big part of his positive attitude. “Spending time with my grandkids means more now than it used to. I’ve always enjoyed spending time with them, but a cancer diagnosis humbles you and makes you realize that life isn’t going on forever. I appreciate those small things a lot more now,” he says.

As for what the future holds, Mark concludes, “I’m going to keep meeting cancer at my door every day. I’m going to keep doing what I want to do and control what I can. Cancer may take that away someday, but it’s not going to be today or tomorrow…that’s my attitude.”