I'm smart, have a great kid, and on my way to Houston: What more could I ask for?

I've been fortunate enough to be able to spend just about 2 weeks with my family in Lubbock. I've been able to go to work to see colleagues, meet with coauthors about research, work some in the lab, and (perhaps most importantly) spend time with my giant boy. I am still trying to figure out how he can be 5'11 and built like a brick house. I guess he just got the perfect shuffle of Rinaldo and Bridgmon genes, although I like to take credit for it all because I nursed him forever and then fed him homemade organic baby food. Even then, food in our house was medicine. (Fun fact: the phrase "built like a brick house" actually comes from a very old phrase used to describe men or women, "built like a brick shithouse," which seems like less than a compliment. For men, it means strong and stout. For women, it means she has a great figure.Again, that's a compliment somehow?)

 The only thing new on the medical front is that I got a call from the neuropsychologists about the results of my recent cognitive evaluation. STILL SMART. In fact, my scores on cognitive capacity, reasoning, functioning, etc., remain stable in the high superior range when compared to women at my age and education level. I told them that I suspected that I did worse on visual and visual memory/spatial tasks. The response was, "perhaps, but not significantly and that those scores also remain in the superior range." I think we should all join together in congratulating Jason for managing to find, marry, and hang on to the brain of his dreams. He always said he married me for 2 reasons: 1) because he knew that when shit got hard, I'd be able to work through anything and survive and 2) he liked my brain and mind. I bet he was more than a little shaken when he thought my brain may not make it intact, however, that hasn't been an issue so far even if some of it is actually missing. I suspect a couple of things that have played into the saving of my cognition. First, I continue to work on intellectually demanding tasks. Brains are like muscles, you use it or lose it. Also, the brain does a remarkable job of compensating. Second, exercising the body helps to pump blood, oxygen, nutrients, etc., to your neurons (this strengthens connections between neurons and keeps these connections efficient. Third, when you enter therapeutic ketosis for metabolic therapy, the corrupted cells are damaged/starved, but the health neurons and other cells are almost supercharged. That's why those in ketosis report mental clarity as a positive side effect. It's also the reason that the world's oldest religious traditions typically have a fasting ritual of some sort and those rituals are typically considered to have a spiritual clarity or experience associated with the fasting. Modern science has revealed that our bodies produce ketones during fasting and those ketones help to supercharge the healthy brain and mind, leading to mental clarity. When coupled with spirituality, this physical experience is often attributed to a spiritual experience. Side note: glioma tumors affect the glial cells, which are cells that provide structure for the neurons. Neurons are what help the brain control the body, thoughts, etc., so my neurons are only at risk when the tumor tissue in glial cells overcrowds the neurons and/or when the surgeon has to remove some healthy tissue during surgery. 

Of course, it's getting close to our due date to be back in Houston. Therefore, tomorrow we pile the three of us and our stuff into the car and drive the nine hours. Aidan is less enthusiastic about the drive and to be spending even part of his spring break in Houston so we are hoping to see plenty of friends, old colleagues, and just find some fun stuff to do in town and in Galveston. I think we can make his time in Houston fun for all of us, but I am pretty sympathetic about the drive. The moment we put him in the car to go home from the hospital, he screamed and cried. He then proceeded to scream and cry most of the time (and more so in the car) for the first few years of his life. When he started talking I'd put him in the car and he'd ask, "Can't we just fly there?" and then I'd explain that we were just driving across town and flying wasn't possible. He'd seem to be accepting of that answer, then I'd put the car in drive, push the gas petal, and he'd start screaming. Loudly. Let's just say I didn't want to hurt either of us, and although the word sympathetic is a bit strong, I could perhaps identify with the perspective of mothers of small children who lost their marbles. If I were there again, I'd have chosen metabolic therapy, meditation, and exercise instead of the white knuckle strategy. Luckily, he did stop crying in most situations, came to depend on me for things other than breast milk, and grew into a better kid than I'd ever thought we'd produce.

Monday I start with an MRI at 6 AM. Other appointments throughout the day will be or should be helpful for determining the next steps. Remember, this is a very aggressive illness that has no remission, leaves stem cells behind wherever it has been, is impossible to remove 100% with surgery, and typically grows at a very rapid pace (even though mine has never been typical). In addition, the surgeon and oncologist still see some suspect tissue in there (which is also not unusual). Therefore, the main point of this trip and checkup is to see if the suspicious tissue has changed in the last month, what types of aggressive treatments we should try next, and where I might need go to get chosen treatment. Of course, it won't hurt to go have some fun, eat some carnitas, and maybe sit on the oily beach of Galveston listening to the waves.