On Sunday, December 5, Chad Gilbert woke up surrounded by EMS—and entirely confused by the chaotic scene in his bedroom.
The emergency responders explained that he was in the midst of a near-fatal medical incident—that his spouse had been performing CPR and that his blood sugar had dropped to a dangerously low level—but the 40-year-old New Found Glory guitarist was convinced he was having a nightmare.
“I was like, ‘Am I dreaming?’” 40-year-old Gilbert recalls. “The paramedic, he told me, ‘Mr. Gilbert, your wife saved your life. We’re taking you to the ER.’”
Nothing unusual had happened the previous day: Gilbert and his wife, 28-year-old musician Lisa Cimorelli, got in some exercise, watched a bit of Ted Lasso and had a snack before bed.
When he was jolted awake, Gilbert couldn’t understand what was happening. He even asked if it was an elaborate joke. But as he was loaded into an ambulance outside his house—gazing through the window at a street sign—he realized the situation was very real.
Over the next two weeks, Gilbert was diagnosed with a pheochromocytoma—a rare neuroendocrine tumor on his adrenal gland—and underwent emergency surgery to remove the malignant mass and a portion of his liver. His tumor was approximately eight inches in size, vastly larger than most other instances of pheochromocytoma.
But, after a two month long surprise cancer battle, Gilbert is overwhelmed with joy. On January 27, he received a call from his oncologist.
“I got the good news,” he says with a smile. “I'm all clear. I've got nothing in my body. No pheochromocytoma left. All the cancer is gone.”
Gilbert was finally able to let his guard down.
“I started crying right as I hung up the phone,” he says. “I hugged my wife, hugged my baby, let out a good cry. This whole time I just fought. Knowing how much my wife had to do on her own while I was in the hospital, I wanted to be that rock for her as much as I could while recovering.”
He continues: “It went so quick. There wasn't any processing. ‘Here's your new life, go!’”
While Gilbert’s cancer felt like it popped up overnight, that wasn’t the case. Pheochromocytomas are generally considered slow-growing tumors. Doctors estimate that his had been growing for three to five years.
According to the Mayo Clinic, a pheochromocytoma is a “rare, usually noncancerous (benign) tumor that develops in the adrenal gland.” Humans have two adrenal glands, located at the top of our kidneys. The Mayo Clinic says that “usually a pheochromocytoma develops in only one adrenal gland, but tumors can develop in both.” The National Institutes of Health’s Center for Cancer Research estimates only eight out of one million people have a pheochromocytoma.
Unfortunately, Gilbert discovered that he was part of the small percentage of patients whose pheochromocytoma was malignant. The good news was that it was only located on one of his adrenal glands.
Pheochromocytomas are tumors that release hormones that cause various symptoms, including high blood pressure, sweating, headache, symptoms of panic attack and more. If left untreated, they can be fatal.
Looking back, Gilbert observed indications that his body was affected by the cancer long before he realized. In photographs and even in one of the band’s new videos, “Somber Christmas,” he believes he had Cushing’s Syndrome—nicknamed “moonface”—which caused him to look swollen, red and bloated.
“I looked like a totally different person,” Gilbert says.
Gilbert also experienced an unusual level of anxiousness—another effect of his underlying condition. He sometimes found himself overreacting to situations, feeling stressed and behaving frantically.
It wasn’t until New Found Glory hit the road that he became aware of any symptoms in real-time. From August 31 through October 17, the band embarked on a nationwide tour with fellow Florida natives, Less Than Jake.
Almost immediately into the trek, Gilbert noticed he developed “cankles.” When the band went to see a movie—the remake of the 1992 horror film Candyman—the guitarist said he felt like the entire lower half of his body was filled with water.
A few days later in Anaheim, Gilbert was able to see a doctor he knew and trusted. In 2010, this physician treated him during an unrelated cancer scare, when Gilbert had half of his thyroid removed. That cyst was benign, but he’s been on thyroid medication ever since.
The doctor found that Gilbert’s blood pressure was 208. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, normal blood pressure is 120 or lower. But since his bloodwork came back normal, Gilbert was simply advised to lose weight, eat clean and avoid salt. He was also prescribed high blood pressure medication.
(Note: Gilbert’s oncologist later reassured him that his doctor in California did his due diligence, but that pheochromocytomas are tough to detect in bloodwork because they only appear if they are actively secreting hormones.)
For the remainder of the tour, Gilbert went out of his way to eat healthy. He took his new medicine and diuretics. He still felt swollen and terrible, but persisted playing shows from Texas to New York.
In late October, Gilbert returned home to Franklin, Tennessee, about 20 miles south of Nashville. He weighed 20 pounds lighter than when he left and his blood pressure had seen little improvement.
He tried everything, including cycling daily and boxing with his wife. Still, he experienced facial swelling, hypertension and headaches. He believed it was all linked to high blood pressure.
When Gilbert went to sleep on December 4, he had no reason to believe he was dealing with anything life-threatening.
In a twist of cruel irony, it turns out that exercise can throw a pheochromocytoma into hyperdrive, which likely triggered the event that caused his hospitalization.
The following morning, Gilbert’s wife rose and started her day.
She thought it was unusual that her husband wasn’t up early, but knew how hard he’d been working and decided to let him sleep in.
Around 1:30PM, she returned home after grocery shopping and picking up sandwiches.
When Cimorelli noticed that Gilbert wasn’t up-and-at-em, she felt something was off.
She went to wake her husband for lunch—but instead found him unresponsive in bed.
Gilbert’s eyes were open, but he didn’t acknowledge his wife’s presence. She waved at him, wondering if he was playing around. Then, she realized he was struggling to breathe.
“I didn't know this was happening,” Gilbert explains. “I'm just—I'm not alive.”
Cimorelli called 911 and stayed on the line with the operator, who coached her through administering chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth as she awaited first responders.
“They tell her that she has to keep blood going to my heart,” Gilbert explains. “The kind of breathing I was doing—it was death-breathing pretty much.”
He continues: “She has to hold it together. She's giving me CPR to keep me [alive] until the paramedics get there. Mind you, I have a newborn in the living room.”
Gilbert’s blood sugar was incredibly low when the EMS arrived, about 20mg/dL. They tried giving him some sugar, to no avail. It was when they administered a second, much larger dose of sugar that Gilbert regained consciousness, but was extremely disoriented.
“I don't understand what's happening,” Gilbert recalls. “There are seven paramedics in the room and a machine. I'm like—what's going on? I didn’t believe it was real.”
Gilbert was quickly transported to nearby Williamson Medical Center in Franklin.
Two months removed from the traumatic moment, he’s glad it happened at home. Had it went down on the road, he may not have been as lucky. He could have fell into a coma or worse.
“If this was one month earlier, I'd be dead in my tour bus,” Gilberts says. “No one would have woken me up until sound check. Literally. The timing is insane. If my wife didn't come home and get a weird feeling … if she didn't have the strength to not panic. She was obviously freaking out inside, but the paramedics told me, ‘Your wife—you don't understand—she saved you.’”
When Gilbert arrived at the emergency room, he explained that he had no history of blood sugar issues or diabetes. Because he had recently been pumped with sugar, he surprisingly felt fine and was cracking jokes. But, his blood sugar levels soon plummeted while his blood pressure was rising. He was hooked up to apparatuses to help and swiftly transferred to the intensive care unit to be monitored overnight.
The following evening, Gilbert met Dr. Terri Jerkins, the endocrinologist who first diagnosed his condition. She told Gilbert that he was meant to be alive—that it was a miracle they were brought together. He says the conversation gave him hope for his treatment.
Gilbert gave Dr. Jerkins a rundown of his experiences and based on the discussion, she felt it was more than likely he had a pheochromocytoma, which she specializes in. She explained that for both benign and malignant pheochromocytoma, the common initial approach is surgery—not chemotherapy or radiation.
Quickly and directly, she laid out a plan: conduct testing to confirm his condition, transfer him to TriStar Centennial Medical Center in Nashville and—if her hypothesis was correct—connect him with Dr. William Polk, a surgical oncology specialist.
Overwhelmed but optimistic, Gilbert made an offer.
“If you cure me, I'll tattoo your name above the scar, I swear,’” Gilbert told her.
They shook hands. The doctor joked that she’d work on her signature.
Gilbert says his serendipitous meeting with Dr. Jerkins was the first of many “little wins” throughout his treatment.
“I was trying to stay positive,” Gilbert says. “It felt like if I don’t live every day focused on the little wins after knowing how close I was to death, then the fact that I'm still alive is pointless.”
He continues: “I should be dead. Everything that happened once I got to the hospital was a blessing and a crazy coincidence. God had me in the right place at the right time.”
It was confirmed that Gilbert needed to stay in the ICU to constantly maintain his sugar and blood pressure levels. The next day, he received a CT scan, which confirmed he had a tumor on his adrenal gland. But, the imaging proved the tumor was far larger than expected. And it wasn’t just on his adrenal gland, it had also grown into his liver. However, a biopsy confirmed that the cancer in his liver was not a separate cancer than the one on his adrenal gland—another “little win.”
Gilbert was transported to TriStar Centennial Medical Center where ICU nurses had been anxiously awaiting his arrival. They welcomed their new “unicorn” patient enthusiastically, telling him how rare his condition was.
Once at Centennial, Gilbert was given an MRI. One concern about the location of his tumor was that it was near the vena cava, a large vein that supplies blood to the heart. Luckily, the imaging revealed that it was not attached to it—the tumor was one isolated large mass. Another “little win.”
When the pathology reports confirmed that it was indeed a pheochromocytoma, his surgery was scheduled with Dr. Polk: a huge win.
Because pheochromocytomas tend to be small and benign, they’re often removed laparoscopically, using a tiny incision and a camera. But Gilbert’s surgery would be far more invasive.
Dr. Polk explained that while he was confident, that this was no small procedure. The surgeon also said that he’d never seen a pheochromocytoma grow to that size—or into a liver before.
The surgery would be complicated and require a team working in unison to maintain his ecosystem once the radically secreting tumor was removed.
“When you're in surgery and they cut it, you're full of medication bringing you down,” Gilbert explains. “If you don't have an endocrinologist working with your surgeon, you could die for the opposite reasons in surgery.”
While he was confident in his surgeon’s reputation, the new father understood the risk of complications, so he insisted on seeing his daughter, Lily (born in July of 2021), before his procedure.
“Seeing her smile… she has such a big personality—she was seeing daddy,” Gilbert says. “We have funny dances. She knew. She missed me.”
Gilbert lived in the ICU until surgery. He spent his time with visitors, including his wife, and mother, Jacqulyn Mallonee, who took shifts watching the baby. He was also visited by friends and fellow musicians like Bayside’s Anthony Raneri and My Chemical Romance’s Mikey Way.
An MMA fan, Gilbert watched UFC fights from his bed and even received well-wishes from the organization's top boss, Dana White, on Instagram.
He also made friends with a team of “incredibly resilient” nurses. While much of his stay in the ICU was positive—he estimates it was about 13 days between the two hospitals—he also saw the struggles overworked nurses went through on a daily basis.
“My respect for nurses is through the roof,” Gilbert says.
“You hear them being yelled at. [Patients] are ripping and throwing stuff. These nurses are like, ‘Stop, you're gonna die! Don't unplug that! Don't throw that machine!’ They're up 24 hours, trying to save people and then having to battle people. It's just insane.”
Aside from a pandemic and unruly patients, the nurses also had to handle the threat of natural disaster, after a highly unusual tornado event ripped through four states, leaving behind destruction and casualties. As tornado sirens blared, nurses helped Gilbert into the hallway, while others ran room to room, adjusting less mobile patients into safer positions. It was alarming, but the hospital was unscathed.
That wasn’t the only scary part of living in the ICU. Gilbert said there were a few ominous moments and he even heard a man take his final breath.
Despite the countless stressors, Gilbert stayed positive. When he was first told that he may have cancer, he thought about his relationship with his father, which became a source of inspiration leading up to surgery.
Gilbert was 24 years old when his father died of a heart attack. But, his dad—a longtime smoker—had previously beat cancer himself.
“When I cleaned out his place, I found a certificate,” Gilbert said. “It was [dated] one month before New Found Glory started. He saw my successful career in those seven years. If he would've died right there, he never would've known. Those last years, he was my best friend.”
He continues: “My father fought because he loved [me] and my mom. All I could think about was how much my wife was fighting to keep me going and how much I'm gonna fight to be positive and raise my baby.”
Surgery finally arrived on December 13. Gilbert’s wife was by his side as nurses connected him to medical equipment, including an IV in his neck.
Then, like a scene from a comedy, the surgeon began drawing his tumor on a board, detailing the plan of attack like a coach before a championship basketball game.
“He starts saying the scariest stuff,” Gilbert says laughing. “‘This is a huge surgery! This is your vena cava. If we come near this—if we do this—I’m concerned!’ It's so crazy, the things he's telling us right then and there. I wish I would've known two days ago. I might have called a couple of friends!”
Gilbert and his wife started laughing. Maybe it was nervous energy. Maybe it was the epitome of a “you gotta laugh before you’ll cry” scenario. Either way, they cracked a smile and took it all in.
“You got this right!?” he asked.
Dr. Polk reassured him that he had successfully completed far more complicated surgical procedures. This would, however, be the first time he’d operated while rocking out to New Found Glory.
The surgery went swimmingly and took about two hours, half the time anticipated.
Later, the doctor told Gilbert that his team “jacked his ribs up like the hood of a car,” before removing the tumor and portion of his liver which it had grown into.
“They took it out,” Gilbert says. “[Dr. Polk] is the man.”
While the tumor is gone, Gilbert will always have a souvenir. Across his abdomen is a massive incision scar, sealed up by layers of stitches and glue. He lifts his shirt enthusiastically, showing his battle wound with pride.
After 24 hours, Gilbert was moved from the ICU to a general room for three days. It was painful, but he slowly got back to walking as his wife cheered him on to the Rocky theme, “Eye of the Tiger.”
Gilbert also received the pathology report which found the cancer had not spread to his lymph nodes. It was more good news just in time for his Christmas homecoming.
Gilbert’s recovery would be a collaborative effort between family and friends within the music community.
For the first two weeks, his lifelong friends, Josh Colbert and Nick Dominguez—both guitarists from the band Further Seems Forever—came over and lent a hand, helping him apply fresh bandages after he took a shower.
Keep in mind, Gilbert was so weak he could barely move. He also weighed an additional 20 pounds lighter, almost 40 total from when he first left for tour.
Gilbert's family, October 2021.
Chad Gilbert, @xchadballx
His friends also helped with day-to-day chores like taking out the trash, as Cimorelli took care of their infant.
Dashboard Confessional/Further Seems Forever frontman Chris Carrabba, who recently had his own health struggles after a motorcycle accident, has also been a strong supporter.
Things weren’t always easy. He had a few scares that were really worrisome. The first time, a hot shower dropped his blood pressure rapidly, but some hydrocortisone did the trick.
On another occasion, Gilbert was once again rushed to the ER after experiencing chest pain. It turned out to be esophageal spasm and he returned home that day.
As for the emotional side of things, Gilbert says his family is still processing the trauma. His wife, rightfully, doesn’t like thinking about the day she found him. And for a period when he first returned home, Gilbert even had nightmares of waking up on the operating table.
But despite the stressful moments, Gilbert’s days in recovery have been the most meaningful of his life.
He’s had an outpouring of support from friends and strangers. At home, he’s been spending quality time with family. They’ve been taking small adventures and planning vacations.
As for entertainment, he’s been watching The Book of Boba Fett and having friends over to play board games weekly.
He, Raneri and Way have been completely consumed with the new Hasbro reboot of the 1989 game HeroQuest, complete with orcs and goblins.
And his bandmates in New Found Glory even sent some gifts to cheer him up: Disney 50th Anniversary Christmas ornaments and a handheld Zelda game.
Gilbert hasn’t forgotten about the people who kept him alive, either. He recently paid a visit to the fire station to snap a photo with the EMS who saved his life.
And within arms reach, he keeps a card he received from a nurse named Kelsey. One day, he hopes to throw a party at a roller skating rink for all the people who helped him. He may even have a cake shaped like his abdomen to cut into. It would be red velvet, of course.
However, before Gilbert could plan a party, he had to complete his postoperative testing to make sure the cancer was out of his body.
During his follow-ups, Dr. Polk was astounded at how quickly Gilbert was recovering from such an invasive surgery. When he met with his oncologist, Dr. Todd Bauer, he was confident his scan would yield positive results. Dr. Bauer explained that although his pheochromocytoma was malignant by the nature of its enormous size, it didn’t behave as many malignant tumors do by sticking and spreading to other organs.
Throughout the month of January, he had multiple check-ups that ultimately led to an MIBG scan, a nuclear scan that uses injected radioactive material to locate pheochromocytoma.
It wasn’t fun waiting to hear the results. But, when he finally got the call that he was cancer free—and got in that good cry—he decided it was time to get back to living. While he put on a brave face the last two months, the truth is, deep down, there was an immense dread. Not anymore.
“Somewhere buried is ultimate fear,” Gilbert explains. “I want to be there for my daughter. I wanna be there for my wife. There's all these things that you have to bury down because if you only focus on loss, then you’re focused on the unknown. I wanted to be focused on what was real—that I was alive.”
He continues: “But getting that call, it gave me a chance to finally go, ‘Alright, all that sad, scared stuff that's buried, I'm gonna let it out.’ I don't need to hold on to that anymore.”
Moving forward, Gilbert just has to take care of himself and attend routine examinations. As of now, he’s officially cancer-free.
“Now it's getting my body used to not having this pheochromocytoma shooting stuff through me,” Gilbert says. “I'm in observation mode, every few months I go in and get some bloodwork done.”
He continues: “The doctor said that 90% of them don't come back. We'll keep watching. The thing pretty much was seconds away from killing me and they've never seen one like this—so being able to get through it—it gives me confidence if it does come back.”
Breakfest 2022
New Found Glory
Gilbert hopes to regain all of his physical strength over the next few months. Recently, he hasn’t been able to lift things or exert himself physically. Even resting a guitar in his lap has been uncomfortable, but he’s still eager to perform.
New Found Glory announced the band will headline Breakfest 2022 in May. The festival, which will take place in Gilbert’s town of Franklin, will be the guitarist’s official return to stage. The show will feature his friends in Further Seems Forever and more.
Today, Gilbert is just grateful to be alive. He’s excited to spend more time with family and friends. He encourages others to do the same.
“Life is very precious,” Gilbert says. “We get very comfortable with patterns and how we do things and sometimes we subconsciously feel invincible, like, ‘Oh, that would never happen to me!’ Take your health seriously.”
“Value your days, friends and loved ones,” he adds. “Don't take things for granted and don't hang on to bitterness or the small crap, it's just not worth it.”
And while he says that he’s more aware of how fragile life is, that we can all harness that knowledge and use it to better ourselves.
“It's scary for people to process how you really can die at any time,” he says. “We're scared to realize how delicate it is. If some people think about it, it turns them jaded, but it should be the other way. It should be a freedom.”
He continues: “You gotta live in a way where you're aware of how valuable it is, but it doesn't make you fearful—it makes you grateful.”
To find out more about pheochromocytomas, you can visit the Pheo Para Alliance.
Follow me on Twitter at @DerekUTG.