When You Have A Brain Tumor, Life Isn’t Like the Movies

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I was driving down the road with my son, Ben, animatedly talking about his favorite video games from the backseat. “Uh-huh,” I replied absentmindedly, my mind elsewhere. I noticed the sunlight filtering through the trees; normally, I’m a busy mom, racing through errands without a second to spare for such details. But this Saturday felt different because I had just picked up my MRI report, and it weighed heavily on my mind.

As I walked out of the building, report in hand, I couldn’t help but think: it’s nothing like the movies. In films, when someone finds out they have a brain tumor, they’re often in a doctor’s office, surrounded by family, as music swells. But here I was, Googling medical terms on my iPhone while my son was more concerned about his gaming plans. The parking lot felt vast and stifling under the sun. “Come on, Mom! You’re walking so slow!” he urged. Right, the library—that was my promise to him.

During the 20-minute drive, my thoughts were split. One part of me tried to stay calm, responding simply to Ben’s questions. The other part was spiraling into panic: Why did I come here today with him? What does this mean? I need to talk to my doctor. But he won’t be available until Monday—how will I wait that long? And how do I tell my family when they inevitably freak out?

“Mom…MOM!” Ben called, pulling me back to reality. “We’re here!” As I parked, I realized I had somehow navigated the drive in a daze. While he explored the library, I scrolled through my phone for any articles I could find about my diagnosis. Most of the information pointed to it being mostly benign, with surgery often leading to positive outcomes. Brain surgery? That was a different story altogether.

I envisioned those dramatic movie scenes: patients with shaved heads being wheeled into operating rooms, while their families anxiously waited. But the movies never addressed the avalanche of questions swirling in my mind. How long would I be sidelined? Who would take care of the kids’ activities? What if something went wrong during surgery? Our plans for a new house and a trip to Harry Potter World felt like they were slipping away.

“Mom!” Ben interrupted my thoughts again. “I’m ready to go. Can I invite a friend over later?”
“Let’s discuss that at home,” I replied, trying to maintain eye contact.

Somehow, I managed to fill the next two days with family distractions—a baseball game, a fireworks display, a sleepover (which included a frantic text from a child who had no idea about my condition), and even an earthquake (seriously, what was next?). We decided to wait until we had more information before telling the kids; we didn’t want to add to their worries.

By Monday morning, my doctor confirmed what I had read online: probably benign, treatable through surgery or radiation. He referred me to a neurosurgeon, and we began to break the news to family and friends. Over dinner, we told the kids, reassuring them that I would be okay. Now, we were left to wait.

It’s not like the movies, where problems and resolutions happen in a neat two-hour package. This is real life, and I’m living it. If you’re interested in learning more about pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on infertility. And if you want to explore more about home insemination kits, this is one of our other blog posts that you might find engaging. For top-notch information on the topic, look into this authority.

In summary, facing a brain tumor is a far cry from the cinematic portrayals we often see. The reality is filled with uncertainty and waiting, but it’s my journey to navigate.