Relational Brain Tumor

I was blow drying my hair one morning while my two five year olds (12 years ago) were getting ready for kindergarten. I felt this elongated narrow bump on the top of my head. At first, I told myself it was from when I had my hair in a ponytail. Then, as I finished blow drying my hair I noticed it was something I had never noticed before. My heart sunk, I felt these little butterflies or knots in my stomach and I just stared into the mirror. My first thought - this is a brain tumor! Within one hour, I had called my husband, my doctor, my parents, and began thinking of what to put in the letters to my two little children who were probably going to live the rest of their lives without their mom, in about two weeks. This was all on a Wednesday morning. By Friday afternoon I was getting a cat scan, and my parents drove in from their home two hours away from us. The nurses were so sad for my apparent outlook that they talked the radiologist into reading the scans after hours so I didn’t have to spend all weekend planning my demise.

It was nothing. I still have the elongated bump on my head. At the time, I was a professor and I was sharing my story with my graduate student. She looked at me and said, “Wow, you skipped right over it being ‘nothing,’ or ‘a cyst,’ or ‘fluid under the skin,’ or ‘anything non-cancerous or non-inoperable.’ In all honesty, I felt a sense of peace and relief when she said that, because sometimes it really is something that is not so scary, or mean, or defeating.

I had a client who assumed her mom liked her siblings better than her. My client even thinks her son is loved by his grandmother more. She shared in a session one day that her mom got mad at her while talking politics (not the smartest idea for anyone these days!) and was told she could go home right this moment. So, my client left and when she told her son that his grandmother hadn’t called to apologize for over two weeks, the son said, “Hold your ground!” I was surprised when my client immediately thought, “well, you have the freedom to pick up the phone and talk to grandmother whenever you want.”

“Sounds like he understands and might empathize with how you feel,” I stated. “Oh, no. She loves talking to him and treats him much better than me,” my client unhesitatingly replied.

I asked my client if she knew her son was treated well when he did pick up the phone and called his grandmother, and she paused and said, “Well, of course.” Hm, I thought - this sounds like a relational brain tumor.

My client continued, “And, my mom tells me she calls my sister all the time - see, they get to talk to each other.” My first question - have you asked your son or sister if your mom is less precocious and softer with them? Pause...

“Well, no.”

My client has a relational brain tumor. She assumes she matters less as soon as she hears her mom talk about conversing with her sister, and immediately feels like she is less important when her son talks about his grandmother calling him. My client, not unlike many of my clients (and myself), she goes to the worst case scenario. She has a relational inoperable brain tumor. Where do you diagnose your relational brain tumor in your life?

Rule/Tool

Ask, the first rule to this is always ask. Ask those who you are filling in information, don’t rely on your phantom symptoms. If you don’t get the answer you want, share how you feel.