Under normal circumstances-e.g. in a time when the American Psychological Association (APA) has not released
guidelines questioning whether norms associated with "traditional masculinity" (e.g. stoicism) are harmful to the mental health of men, and a shaving
commercial is not being run that criticizes "toxic masculinity"-I would be reluctant to publicly share a story of personal adversity that, as a sometime aficionado of existentialist philosophy, I know I must ultimately face alone.
But in the spirit of opening up, here goes.
I have brain cancer. Not the kind that killed John McCain, Ted Kennedy, or Beau Biden. At least not yet. I am afflicted with a low-grade glioma (specifically, a grade-2 infiltrative astrocytoma). My neurosurgeon informs me that experts do not distinguish between benign and malignant brain tumors. Instead, they distinguish between low-grade and high-grade tumors, the point being that all brain tumors naturally progress to death. There is no cure. High-grade simply gets you there faster. In the words of one
study, "all low grade gliomas eventually progress to high grade glioma and death." In short, barring some unforeseen circumstance like a plane crash or another mortal illness, I will die of brain cancer. It's only a matter of time, unless researchers suddenly discover a cure. It could be one year. Two years. Five years. Twenty years. But according to this
study, the average life span of someone with a low-grade glioma is seven years.
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