We are in the middle of International Brain Tumor Awareness week and what better time to talk about brain tumors. I will preface this by saying that I'm a neurologist, not a neuro-oncologist, and this is meant to be a very general, bird's-eye view. There are plenty of resources out there which can delve into much further detail. When faced with a new mass, no matter where in the body it is discovered, the first question usually is "is it benign or malignant?" What does this m

Radiation is done. The bell has been rung. Temozolomide, complete...for now. One road has reached its conclusion, but what lies ahead is murky. Follow-up scans, follow-up appointments, and taking next steps. The bump is all but vanquished. That is the mantra we murmur in whispers when we wake up in the morning and before we retire for the night. The neurologist is still in charge. All the compartments are reinforced with lead and steel. The larger compartment has her clinic s

For the first week of radiation treatment, I would drive my husband to his sessions. After dropping our little one off at school, we would hurtle down the road to throw ourselves to the mercy of rush-hour traffic. The ride was a chaotic mix of elements. Metal blasting over the speakers. Cars toying with fate and boiling emotions, zipping in and out of lanes, cutting me off. My husband, asleep for most of it. At times, I realize my inner narration of how terribly someone is d

A poem about who we are, and what we own of our pain and ourselves.

My husband's GBM diagnosis had my head running in one of two directions: Convert husband to veganism and police all meal choices, not even a whiff of things like smoked/cured meats or red meat, and kick simple carbs and alcohol to the curb. Allow the man to eat/drink whatever he wants. I don't know if there is a right answer. I don't know if things can be defined so starkly. Is the horse out of the barn when it comes to eating healthy? I looked at the literature, and unsurpri

It's just us in an empty house. The rules are frayed cotton threads barely holding together the dance of each day.

What are gliomas? What is a GBM? I try to break down the basics of a disease process that seems anything but.

My husband and I listened to the Hamilton soundtrack ad nauseam during the peak of the pandemic. I cannot listen to it these days, not because I do not love the songs (I do). While we were indulging Hamilton, I had two out of three miscarriages. The songs, with their catchy rhythms and flawless harmonies, were inextricably linked with loss. But “The Room Where It Happens” persists as a favorite despite that association. This felt true especially looking back at the eve of my