‘I had the same brain tumour as Davina McCall – and, although it’s been tough, there’s a way out and a path to full recovery’

Leicester academic Mark Charlton tells De Montfort University feature writer Christopher Okoye how he was just 24 hours from death – and how he recovered from a rare brain tumour, a colloid cyst.

Mark Charlton stood ankle-deep in the waters of the English Channel, tears streaming down his face. It had been just three weeks since brain surgery saved his life, and the sensation of water lapping at his legs felt like a rebirth. The journey to that moment had been nothing short of a nightmare.

In July 2021, Mark, then 47, was a relatively healthy man. He balanced socialising with friends with weekly runs and had even completed the London Marathon. As an associate director at the United Nations department at De Montfort University in Leicester, Mark led a busy life. He was trying to adopt a more healthy vegan diet and had a wonderful family—his wife Sara, a head teacher, and their two sons, George and Joseph. Life seemed perfect – until, suddenly it wasn’t.

Relief: Mark, less than a month after life-saving brain surgery, in the sea at Boscombe with his sons, Joseph and George.

It started with a small, persistent pain in his toe. Soon after, he began shuffling when he walked, and his leg felt heavy. He also developed a stutter. Despite these alarming symptoms, Mark attributed them to pain medication he had been taking for his toe. Life carried on.

Then, one morning while packing his children’s lunch, Mark collapsed in front of them, unconscious for 30 seconds. When he regained consciousness, he felt lightheaded but was not alarmed. “I remember picking myself up and calmly make the sandwiches like nothing had happened,” Mark recalls. 

He brushed it off as a side effect of his medication and called Sara, downplaying the incident. Sara, however, was concerned and quickly phoned their GP. The nurse on the phone suggested something more alarming: Mark might be suffering from brain trauma.

Still calm, Mark couldn’t believe it was serious, but a CT scan at Leicester Royal Infirmary revealed the terrifying truth. He was rushed to Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham, where doctors delivered a shocking diagnosis: Mark had just 24 hours to live. A colloid cyst was blocking the flow of cerebrospinal fluid in his brain, cutting off the brain’s essential functions. If left untreated, the cyst would kill him within a day. TV celebrity Davina McCall said she was suffering from a colloid cyst this week.

Colloid cysts are rare, occurring in about 1 in 3.5 million people. Mark’s had been present since birth, silently growing for six years. Now, the only option for survival was an emergency brain surgery. Even then, there were no guarantees—Mark could die during the operation or suffer permanent brain damage.

Recovery: Mark shortly after the op, left, and feeling better, right

Oddly detached, Mark felt no fear. “I didn’t even feel that worried about it,” Mark says. Death seemed abstract, not something to be afraid of. The next day, he underwent a high-risk, three-hour op. Though successful, the recovery was challenging. When Mark woke up, he couldn’t stop vomiting, and his head throbbed with intense pain. On top of that, during the hottest week of the year, he couldn’t urinate, which made him feel severely dehydrated.

Small victories in recovery brought hope. Standing up and walking to the toilet on his own gave him the confidence that he would be okay. However, the road to recovery was far from smooth. Mark developed pneumonia after the surgery, which left him struggling with respiratory issues for months. He also suffered from persistent headaches, cognitive challenges, and a weakened left hand. Words like “Azerbaijan” became difficult to recall, and he would occasionally forget common phrases.

When Mark was finally discharged from the hospital a week after surgery, he was a shell of his former self. He could barely walk 30 yards without becoming exhausted, and the thought of ever running again seemed impossible.

Three weeks after the surgery, Mark and his family took a much-needed vacation to Boscombe. It was during this trip, standing in the sea, that Mark finally allowed himself to process everything. Tears flowed as the emotions he had bottled up were released—the relief of surviving and the gratitude for his second chance at life. “Flipping, greatest feeling ever,” Mark says.

The recovery stretched over two years. Slowly, Mark began to regain his strength. Three months post-surgery, he started walking three miles, and by six months, he was running those same three miles. Determined to challenge both his mind and body, he also began learning German, achieving 90% fluency.

Mark also focused on his physical health, cutting down on alcohol and hiring a personal trainer to help him regain the strength he had lost. Mentally, the journey was more difficult. Before the tumour, Mark had struggled with depression, particularly during the COVID-19 lockdown. However, after facing the reality of death, his perspective shifted. He developed a newfound appreciation for life and adopted a more positive outlook.

Today, Mark still experiences some lingering side effects, such as occasional memory lapses and a tingling sensation in his head. However, these pale in comparison to what he survived. He credits his wife Sara and their children for their unwavering strength and support throughout his recovery.

For Mark, the journey from collapsing in front of his children to standing in the sea at Boscombe has been one of survival, resilience, and rebirth.

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