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A woman who went to A&E with what she thought was a stubborn ear infection was actually told she had a brain tumour . Ashley Macholz's world was turned upside down after the visit, and even included an impromptu hospital wedding, discovered the six by five centimetre tumour. The 30-year-old, from San Jose in California , had spent her summer swimming in "every lake, pool, ocean, creek and waterfall," she could find. But when she started feeling pain and swelling in her left ear, the self-proclaimed "rock collector" and lifelong adventurer assumed it was just from large amounts of water. But when things got worse, she visited an urgent care clinic, where she was diagnosed with a dysfunctional Eustachian tube and prescribed antihistamines, decongestants, and nasal sprays. For nearly a month, she followed the treatment plan faithfully, but nothing changed. Unfortunate Ashley explained: "I figured it was just my Eustachian tube being stubborn. I'd been in the water all summer, I wasn't too worried. I thought I'd just push through it, but something in me said it wasn't right." At the emergency room, Ashley was surprised to be seen by the same doctor she'd visited at urgent care. After mentioning the pain on her skull, the doctor suggested a CT scan to rule out a bone infection, a frightening possibility that, if true, could be fatal. "We kind of talked about it for a bit because I didn't really want to do it," Ashley said. "I'm not really the go-to-the-doctor type of person." The doctor explained her options: she could try ear drops that probably wouldn't help since her ear didn't appear infected, or go ahead with the scan to be safe. Eventually, Ashley agreed. The next doctor wasn't convinced the scan was necessary but agreed to order it anyway. Before she knew the results, Ashley recalls one of her fondest moments from that day, the hospital porter who pushed her through the halls doing wheelies with her chair, making her laugh and briefly forget how serious everything was. Ashley went on to say: "They said it kindly, but when someone mentions the word fatal, you listen. Honestly, I almost said no to the scan. But I'm so glad I didn't." After three hours of chatting with nurses and waiting for results, Ashley received the news that would change her life: a tumour had been found sitting on top of her brain, about six by five by four centimetres. She said: "It was pressing down on my brain like a little princess pillow." Doctors quickly scheduled surgery. Ashley tried to stay positive, quipping that if she lost hearing on that side at least she'd be able to tune people out when she wanted to, but behind the humour she knew the risks were serious. While preparing for surgery, Ashley and her fianc Bryan made a spontaneous decision to get married in the hospital. Her sisters Shelbi and Zoe ordered a dress online and had it overnighted; it fitted perfectly. Shelbi, a photographer from Portland, Oregon, styled Ashley's hair, found a florist who created a bouquet and boutonni res in just two days, and captured the ceremony beautifully. Her sister-in-law Katie did her makeup, while Zoe kept everything running smoothly. Their friend Elena handmade a veil and drove it from San Diego with her boyfriend, and Ashley's dad's girlfriend, Kenzel, brought a red velvet cake to complete the celebration. Ashley continued: "We'd always dreamed of a ceremony surrounded by redwood trees. Ever since our engagement in Vietnam, that was the plan. But life had other ideas." Instead of a forest, Ashley and Bryan exchanged vows inside the hospital, but not without some effort. She explained: "I actually needed special permission from my team of doctors to even leave the neurology floor. After a bit of convincing, they approved it." The couple were married in the small hospital chapel on the first floor, right next to the security booth, in a ceremony filled with love and laughter. Afterwards, they celebrated with a small reception in the hospital's courtyard garden, a quiet, leafy space usually reserved for doctors and nurses on their breaks, but for one afternoon, it became the perfect spot for newlyweds. "Not everyone could be there in person," she says. "But the people who could, dropped everything to be by our side, some even travelling from as far as San Diego, Utah, and Oregon with just two days' notice. We could feel the love from everyone else too, no matter how far away they were." But the celebrations were short-lived when Ashley's medical team reviewed her MRI more closely. Ashley continued: "While I was getting ready for the wedding, a team of neurosurgeons came into my room and told me I'd need more specialised surgeons for my three-part procedure. They explained that as soon as a bed opened up at UCSF (University of California, San Francisco), I'd be transferred immediately." That moment came sooner than expected. In the middle of the night after the wedding, a bed became available, and Ashley was whisked away on her first-ever ambulance ride. When she arrived at UCSF around 2am, she was placed in a shared room, which meant her new husband, Bryan, wasn't allowed to stay overnight. Ashley said: "The nursing team was kind enough to let him stay in the bed with me until I fell asleep. But then he had to wait in a small visitor room down the hall until visiting hours started at 8am." Their first night as newlyweds was spent apart, an unexpectedly emotional and difficult turn of events. Still, Ashley found gratitude in the delay, saying: "I'm thankful I didn't have surgery the day after our wedding. The three new teams of doctors needed time to review the scans and plan everything out." That extra week brought a strange kind of peace, a chance to rest (as much as one can in a hospital), reconnect with friends and family, and spend quiet moments together before the next chapter began. "It also gave me time to process my new normal," Ashley said. "I'm still working on that part, but having time to think before being cut open for the first time was exactly what I needed for my mental health." Ashley underwent two major surgeries, the first to close off the veins feeding the tumour, and the second to remove it completely. Surgeons discovered the mass had attached to part of her skull, which left her temporarily without hearing on the left side. Before those operations, she spent a full week in the hospital as her doctors carefully mapped out the complex surgical plan. Ashley said: "That week was strangely peaceful. I spent time with my new husband, friends, and family, taking slow laps around the neurology unit and gazing out at the Golden Gate Bridge, trying to soak in the calm before everything changed. They think the hearing will come back in a few months. Honestly, that's the least of my worries." Even after surgery, Ashley's humour shone through, with the young woman saying: "I've always heard redheads need more anaesthesia, turns out, it's true! My doctor said I'm like Pac-Man, just gobbling up the drugs. "One night I fell asleep lying flat and woke up feeling like someone was trying to rip my skull open like a watermelon on YouTube . It was the worst pain of my life." She also discovered that part of her face wasn't working properly, "just my forehead," she jokes. "It kind of looks like I got Botox on one side." Along with that came bouts of dizziness, fatigue, and sharp waves of pain has left her drained. Remarkably, one of the most surprising silver linings has been how clear her head feels since the tumour was removed. Before the diagnosis, Ashley had started noticing subtle but worrying changes. She was constantly misplacing her phone seconds after setting it down, mixing up left and right for days on end, and bumping into things more than usual. Ashley explained: "I was sleeping over 10 hours a night but was still exhausted while serving at the Tapas Restaurant that I work at. The night before I went to the ER I had made the decision to stop having the occasional glass of wine after work because I felt like that was what was causing these issues. Looking back, all those little things were probably because of the tumour." After surgery she says the fog of anxiety and depression lifted, leaving her with renewed motivation and an urge to create. Someone even gifted her a watercolour set in hospital; she started painting again and began dreaming of collecting textures for an art book. Her TikTok updates, warm, candid and sometimes hilariously self-deprecating, won her thousands of followers who cheered every small victory, from wearing her ring again as her fingers de-swelled to the nervous laughter when she tried to watch TV between naps. Support poured in from family, friends and online strangers. People travelled long distances to be at her hospital bedside; others sent messages that made her laugh and cry. Left with stitches and a long list of aftercare instructions, Ashley was still determined to find joy where she could. She joked about plans to shave part of her head for style, dreamed of a honeymoon to Japan with Bryan, onsens and snow and quiet ceramic villages, and made a light-hearted note about the one downside of possible hearing loss: being able to turn her back on people she didn't want to listen to. Nineteen days after being admitted, Ashley was discharged. In a video from her car, she said: "I'm out of the hospital, how crazy is that? I can't wait to shower, see my dog, and finally sleep in a real bed." But the relief of being home was unmistakable. Now recovering in San Jose, Ashley is focused on healing, following doctors' orders, and getting stronger so she and Bryan can finally celebrate properly. The tumour has been sent to a genetics lab and she's awaiting results to learn whether further treatment is needed, but for now the news is simple and bright: she's tumour-free, married and surrounded by love.
