The Crazy Delectations of a Penn Law Student (aka, this is what we do for fun)

"amazing grace - philosophy: how you climb up the mountain is just as important as how you get down the mountain. and, so it is with life, which for many of us becomes one big gigantic test followed by one big gigantic lesson. in the end, it all comes down to one word. grace. it's how you accept winning and losing, good luck and bad luck, the darkness and the light." (also, "perfumed shampoo, bath and shower gel")




This somewhat stupid and trite "inspirational" quote was taken from my wife's "Philosophy" bath and shower gel bottle, apparently a vessel of both wisdom and grapefruit/vanilla scented exfoliation in one 8 oz. shot. After reading it and then lathering up, I realized that messages like these are placed and seen throughout society, often merely as product endorsements, but sometimes as true and inadvertent calls to remind us of what we so often fail to find in life, God, friends, family, and wholly-distilled inspiration. Take a moment to think of where you encounter phrases and words such as these which, while meant to sell some kind of manufactured product, use some kind ethereally inspiring notion to dissolve everyday life-even for a moment. I imagine that advertisers use these "ah ha!" moments to briefly open our eyes to something much purer and more special than our everyday distractions before filling that opening with their product as the worthwhile alternative. Than again, who knows; maybe there really aint nothin' like Coca-Cola being the "Real Thing," and L'Oreal really is "Because You're Worth It." Personally, I think they're stupid. But this is not the purpose of this blog.

The purpose of this blog is to chronicle my adventures over the next year or so as a University of Pennsylvania Law student, about to undergo a brain tumor operation. I figure that an operation such as this is interesting for at least a number of reasons: 1) brain tumors and their operations are always those things that people having no brain tumor experiences probably regard as somewhat mythical, like Nepal. We hear that it exists and we occasionally come across stories of its impact, but until we actually experience its reality it remains a part of life to which we just simply cannot relate; 2) I am a law student at one the better law schools in America which, though it implies a very rebuttable presumption of intelligence (trust me, some people definitely "slip through the cracks" getting in to top law schools), does tie my surgery to my most important asset, my brain; 3) I hope to inspire others who suddenly find out that they need surgery such as this, with frequent updates of my condition, prognosis, and outlook, because while there is a lot of technical and statistical information out there, it is difficult to find first hand accounts; 4) I will have pictures, and hopefully pictures of my brain posted on this blog - and you have to admit that will be super cool.

However, before I get into my condition and what's going on, I just want to say that full participation on this blog is wholly encouraged. I would love to help create a forum for any kind of question whatsoever. I cannot guarantee that I'll be able to answer all questions, and I may even stop making sense after a while (remember, this is not gall-bladder surgery here). But I will do my best, and I very much hope that my experience can be used to encourage and inspire others who are affected by similar circumstances. (of course, I realize that if I stop making any kind of sense that this is not exactly encouraging but...I digress).

So to bring everyone up to speed on who I am and what's going on: My name is Brian Trainor, I am 30 years old, born and raised in New Jersey, very happily married, I live in an apartment in University City/Philadelphia with my wife, cat, and about a dozen very heavy law books. I love it here. While we hope to move to the Denver area after graduation, Philadelphia has so much going for it that it is slowly creeping up as a very credible alternative. As one can see from my other blog (briamanda.blogspot.com-linked to this one through my profile), my wife and I met at the University of Hawaii during undergrad, and after working for a few years as a Bills Researcher for the Hawaii State Senate Ways and Means Committee we married and whisked ourselves off to Panama for a two-year adventure with the US Peace Corps, where we learned semi-fluent Spanish. Before all that I worked as an EMT-Intermediate, running 911 emergency calls full-time for Honolulu's Chinatown nightshift (awesome job!), and before that lived and worked in the mountains of Colorado (Breckenridge) as, for lack of a better term, a ski-bum (also a great time!). It was during this Colorado mountain experience during which I became a Christian, something which, though I may fail to mention the fact in every other sentence on this blog, is easily the most important aspect of my life and something from which I am eternally (literally!) grateful.

I originally decided to pursue law school because of a fascination with public policy, though admittedly this has been somewhat tempered over time by a fascination with prosecution. Last summer I interned at the US Attorney's Office for the District of Colorado, where I basically fell in love with the work, the people, and the profession. Either way, I am currently applying to Princeton's Woodrow Wilson School of Public Affair for a Masters Degree in...Public Affairs, and I very much hope to pair Princeton's training with my law degree, to one day work as an effective government prosecutor.

Anyway, everything was going just dandy for me until last Thursday, January 7th, when out of the blue (well, after a few pints of Guinness) and at 3:45 AM, I had a massive seizure for which I was rushed to the hospital. When there, a CT Scan informed us that some kind of a lump was present, and a follow-up MRI confirmed the lump as a brain tumor on the medial aspect of my left frontal lobe, about 2.5 cm in size. If you want to find the approximate equivilant area of your own head where my tumor is located, simply find you widow's peak in the middle of your forehead and move up the middle of your scalp about 3 inches. The tumor will be just a wee bit to the left side. To be honest, it's still somewhat unbelievable to even type this, because like many of you it's hard to accept that this drama is happening not just to someone to whom I am very close, but to actual "me." I have no headaches, no blurred vision, no neurological deficits of any kind; just a digital picture and a doctor's expert opinion that I have a tumor in my brain that must come out. It's been a whirlwind to say the least, and the meds they have me on (Dilantin-for seizures, Dexamethasone-a steroid to keep down brain swelling, and some kind of hard-cord antacid) have kept me in somewhat of a constant daze. In fact, roughly ten minutes or so after taking my 4x daily Dexamethasone dosage, my brain feels as if it's wrapped in a warm fuzzy snuggie, and I've had to apologize to many professors and friends for my glazed smile and dopey responses. For whatever reason, it also seems to encourage me to declare that I'm stoned, which always seems funny to me at the time. Apparently, this Dexamethasone has something like 30-40x the strength of Hydrocortisone, and could be regarded as "recreational" under the right conditions. (not to mention that people have actually been banned from various sports for "doping" with this so I feel pretty hard-core).

Back to the tumor. As you can probably imagine, my time since last Thursday has been very busy taking care of law-related stuff (arranging class), settling my Council of Student Representatives duties (for which I am the Treasurer, and for which only I know the books!), and even phone interviewing for a summer internship with the Department of Justice which, though I think went horribly due to the brain-scrambling effects of my meds, apparently went okay as they already notified me of their continued interest. In addition, I've tried my best to see and/or speak with most of my friends, professors, law school deans, and available family before the big day.

I suppose that many everyday people, suddenly transformed into critical patients, experience a similar sort of breathless rush towards their deadline. The past week has simply flown by. But the support and encouragement from all quarters has been amazing. My faith as a Christian has tripled, my attention and love for Amanda (my wife) and my family has as well, and life has really been distilled down to its very essentials. Despite the rush, it's been a week of clarity. It's been a struggling and difficult clarity at times, especially since the organ involved is the one upon which I still hope to rely as a future prosecutor. But it really is an amazingly profound gift to be able to view the world without the blinders of everyday distraction. I think of the people in Haiti who may never have had a chance for such contemplation, such soul-searching, and I realize how blessed I really am. Many of us in better circumstances never really identify with our mortality either, and it usually only through these dire circumstances that we are forced to. But we'll all die one day, each one of us. That's right! You reading this right now will one day actually die. Crazy huh?

We don't like to think of it because it's not pleasant, and we go from distraction to distraction, inflating their importance to keep ourselves from considering what really matters. I certainly hope that I won't be exploring that reality just yet. But considering it at this fundamentally deep and actual level is something that really makes me feel alive. I thank God for that. And over the next year or so, I hope that this blog will be able to share just a part of my thoughts and experiences as 2.5 cm+ of the medial aspect of my left frontal lobe is cracked open, cut out, and resected into a new brain. Brian 2.0. Tomorrow morning at 8 AM. Here's hoping for a super power or two. :)