GBM - Part 1

Brain herniated and I had one question - where is the meaning in this? The theatre lights blazed down while we waited for the sun to come up. The skull was sawn open and the air hung with the smell of burnt bone. Then, the hands of the clock stopped - they always do when immersed in surgery. In this world the operating drapes throb azure blue, the skull defines “bone ivory” and blood sings scarlet. Dying makes life high-definition.

Simon was a seventy-year-old man and this was not his first neurosurgical operation. His first, however, should have been his last. In his eighth decade Simon’s memory had started to fail him. Like many older people, this was put down to age. Now time may be our parent and our grave, but it doesn’t cause seizures. It was an ordinary Tuesday when Simon's world tilted on its axis. One moment, he was reaching for his morning coffee; the next, he was on the floor, his body betraying him in a violent dance of misfiring neurones. When Simon ended up in Accident and Emergency after having his first fit, his head scan revealed the culprit. A large ring-shaped mass in his frontal lobe was causing pressure in his brain. His doctors started steroids to reduce his brain swelling temporarily and anti-seizure medicines to keep him conscious. After an MRI scan, he was sent to us...