the Facts

Ok,
here are the facts: the tumour which is keeping me company for the time being is a glioma. Probably low grade. It measures about 3cm x 3.5cm and it looks slightly like a flying saucer. It is in the supplemental motor area, left side of the brain, on the top. It's the area responsible for speech. Ironic. Speech. Me. I am a journalist and my first language is Italian. Articulate is one of the words people often use to describe me.
I realised I have it because I get these episodes of speech arrest, in which for a minute or so I want to speak but can't. I look to the right and slightly raise my right hand. I never lost consciousness and never had a fit, but now I am on anticonvulsant medication, just like epileptics, because it might get worse.
The first episode was in May. I was in my office and a friend stopped by. She complimented me on something I was wearing and I wanted to tell her where I bought it but realised I couldn't. I started laughing and went on for a minute or more. Never had the laugh again, but the same feeling reoccurs every time I have some strongly emotional experience or moment, or at some times of the month which coincide with my cycle.

Now if they operate they might obliterate forever my ability to express myself. Not just to speak, but to write and form concepts in my head that can be communicated to people. In order not to do so, they will have to operate on me while in an awake state. They will use anaesthetic to practice and opening in my skull, then they will wake me and talk to me through the entire procedure to make sure they are not touching and removing anything essential from a functional point of view. Yes. we use only part of our brain, so apparently you can remove bits and pieces here and there without causing permanent damage. And it won't hurt because the brain can't feel pain. Weird and terrifying, but it gives me hope. I am currently 'shopping' for the best neurosurgeon specialised in this field, and for now I am waiting to meet Andrew McEvoy in the UK and Lorenzo Bello in Italy.

Of course the other option is to just observe the tumour and wait. If it doesn't grow too much, I might live for another 10 or 15 years without adverse effects. I might even manage to fight it myself, with my mind and will power. It can happen. But as things stand now, and I might be a bit too panicky and impatient, I just can't wait for this guest to leave my head.