PERSONAL
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Brain Scans
8 years ago923 words
I went to the neurology hospital again yesterday. So that was fun. Here's what my brain looks like! (It's the one on the right.) Not morbid at all!!
I was in a bad place mentally when I wrote my previous post, and while there've been some brief, fleeting ups since then (though they've been more like reprieves from pain than the presence of pleasure), my mood and mind continue to slide further away from brightness. Everything feels bleak and pointless; being alive feels tiring. It isn't that nothing can bring me joy; it's more that what I know
can make me happier is out of reach. I've been working on a post about all that for several days, but it's been difficult to do anything... so I'll just talk about this for now.
So yes. Long story short, it turns out my brain tumour hasn't grown significantly since the last checkup three months ago, though I did learn some new things about it, and the procedure the neurosurgeon wants to carry out, none of them good. I got some photos of my brain scans this time (which was sort of amusing, actually; he said I wasn't really allowed to - there are a bunch of forms you have to fill in to get them 'properly' - but that if he was going to break the rules, he might as well do it right, and used my phone to take photos of the scans on his screen himself). Here's an MRI scan of a 'normal' brain (left) compared to one of mine (right):
I'm aware it's quite a morbid thing to post, but I personally find it useful to develop a sense of open curiosity about these things rather than hiding from them in fear or denial. I used to be terrified of brains, completely phobic, and that feeling is still there... but it's very much been dampened by understanding neuroanatomy (at least to a basic degree), and, well, me explaining this is basically just a way of coping with the facts of the situation. It's surprising; the more I look at this image, the calmer I feel about it all.
There are a few points of particular interest here. First, the tumour. It's the whitish blob in the middle of my brain, located in a rather annoying place. The brain floats in cerebrospinal fluid, which is produced and stored in open cavities called the
∞ ventricles ∞, and which flows between them and gets recycled via various channels. One of these is called the cerebral aqueduct, which in my case is being compressed and blocked by the tumour... causing the cerebrospinal fluid to build up in the upper ventricles. That's why the dark hole in the middle is way bigger in my brain than the 'normal' one. Even though the issue has been rectified by the surgery I've already had - they made a new hole for the fluid to flow through, in the space on the left of the tumour in this image, leading to the dark bit on the left side of the brainstem - it seems the ventricles won't return to normal like I assumed they would; they're permanently stretched, and my brain is permanently squashed. Hmm. Also, the tumour is right on top of the brainstem, particularly the midbrain, which is responsible for the lowest-level functions of things like sight (the brainstem is the most primitive part of the brain; technically we could live without the rest (though not with any kind of intelligence), but damage to this part is easily fatal or catastrophic). Hmm again.
My tumour is right in the middle of the brain, which makes surgery problematic, though not impossible. The biggest issue is that to remove it would require cutting through the corpus callosum, which is that ring thing encircling the upper ventricle. It connects the two hemispheres, and while you can survive without it (technically), people who have it completely severed become what are called
∞ split brain patients ∞, who literally embody the phrase 'the left hand doesn't know what the right is doing'. Their behaviour is bizarre; it's as if two minds with differing opinions inhabit and control the same body. While the operation I'll one day end up having won't sever the whole corpus callosum, I'm wondering what effects it would have... I've been told there'd be no obvious side effects - or at least not any catastrophic ones - but I wonder if that's just the opinion of an outsider's limited observations; I wonder if the inner experience would alter significantly. Or, even if things like vision or locomotion remained intact, more subtle abilities like creativity or intelligence might be reduced.
It's strange... All my life, I've feared brains, and worried I have a brain tumour, and it turns out that I actually do have one. My biggest fear has always been the idea of heads being chopped in half; for some reason, that absolutely petrified me, and I've avoided a lot of things in case they included something similar to that. And yet it might turn out that I'll have my own brain cut in two, at least to some degree. I can't help but feel that this life is a story, with foreshadowing.
I'm just hoping that this tumour won't cause any more serious problems before I have a chance to get my life sorted out...
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