My father was diagnosed with Stage 3 in 2001, just after Christmas. He had been complaining of strange "deja vu, out of body experiences" for a few months prior. He had some X-rays done about 6 weeks before, but they were misread as mini strokes. At Christmas, his behavior grew very strange. He would talk to someone on the phone, lose his coordination and drop the phone, and yet continue talking. We took him to the ER on the 26th.
He was diagnosed with a Stage 3 glio, and had surgery a week later. Unsurprisingly, they could not remove all of the tumor. He proceeded with radiation and chemo at Roswell Park in Buffalo. Unfortunately, I would say that my family and I have mixed feelings about our experiences at Roswell. I know it is one of the top cancer hospitals in the country and we were so fortunate to have it in our backyard. If I had cancer, it would be the first place I would go. But some (not all) of the doctors' bedside manner left a lot to be desired. The physician's assistant to his chemo oncologist was particularly rude and insensitive. My mother will never give a dime to Roswell to this day.
Anyway, Dad continued with the protocol until late May (5 months since diagnosis) when he began to take a turn for the worse. He was having more trouble walking and his body blew up like a balloon from all the steroids etc. He was admitted to the hospital (not Roswell) and just went downhill from there. He kept spiking high fevers and then became very chilled. He got all of the maladies associated with being bedridden - foot problems, bed sores, you name it. By August they discovered he had developed gall stones, and I knew it wouldn't be much longer.
He passed away at the age of 61 on August 19, 2002...almost 8 months after diagnosis and a week before my 21st birthday. By the way, there was no family history of this except for a first cousin who died of the same thing, I don't remember how old he was. Heart problems run much more rampant in my dad's family.