There's not enough room

A local healthcare system, the flagship of which is a tertiary care hospital that trains physicians, ancillary healthcare clinicians and biomedical basic scientists, is running a television commercial. Of course, the patient featured in the commercial has had a terrific outcome. She's training to be a trapeeze artist; can you believe it!? And it's her surviving a massive brain tumor that makes the TV promotion memorable. Brain tumors are so scary. I got my first exposure to the mystery and the horror of brain tumors when I watched as a kid, the series "Ben Casey". It was a sterile portrayal of hospital life - no disinfect stink, not much of the clamor of carts, and doc's, of course, don't show the pressure of time on their faces. Miracles, of course, were achieved, in less than 60 minutes each week. That's productivity.

The pressure of time is always there, once you find out there is a brain tumor in your head. The tumor victim might be heard saying: I wasn't born with it, was I? I didn't know it was there until my eyesight started to glitch up, or I found myself losing my train of thought, or - that I vomited all over my prom tuxedo, when I was picking up my date! Why couldn't I have known about this earlier? My head hurts almost all the time now. Is it growing? I'm afraid! I'm afraid it will get so big that I won't know, I won't know what is happening. Please get it out. Take it out, please. PLEASE!!

When there's something found inside you, something that threatens to take over your control of your body, mind and your spirit. panicking is natural. It's natural to want autonomy over ourselves. Pro athletes asserted autonomy, thereby declining vaccines during the COVID pandemic. Everyone who advocates for reproductive health, including the right to abortion services, feel they need to be in control of their bodies as well. Vegans, members of religious sects, owners of semiautomatic weapons, proud owners of old Samsung Galaxy phones and brave Cybertruck owners - they all want to survive and be left alone. Can't the person who finds out there is an invading mass inside her head - isn't she deserving of that same kind of control? Doesn't she deserve to be free of the threats to her identity?

I hope everyone everywhere, who is living or even just discovering that there is a rogue element inside their heads, can find calm and hope that we in the CSD community want their identities to be kept whole. Given that all our identities evolve with development and experience, we'd still want amy person living with a brain tumor to draw on their powers for self - care, the resources of the medical community that are available to them, and the nurturing and uplifting support circles who help every tumor victim tap their deep history, for growing a post - tumor future.