![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I told my parents about my "brain tumor" on Thursday night. My mother surprised me by showing actual concern, but followed that up by saying that it's probably due to me overeating; she's never recovered from my advance past Size Zero (I'm a 6-petite nowadays). She then called Friday morning to make sure I hadn't had another seizure overnight ("No, Mom - I told you that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yendi has your number and will call you if anything happens.") and to theorize that the "brain tumor" (which she has decided now is "a pituitary thing maybe") was why I had emotional problems as an adolescent.
Because the abuse issues had nothing to do with that, I'm sure. Because of course the "brain tumor" works retroactively (15-20 years!) to explain why I was not a Stepford child.
Because if it's something physiological, she doesn't have to feel guilty for first neglecting me, than shipping me off to mental hospitals and group homes and wilderness survival programs and drugging me with Thorazine and Haldol, you see.
It's not that easy, Mom.
MRI stuff: Thanks for all the info! Fortunately, I'm not claustrophobic, nor do I have any tattoos. Unfortunately, I don't know if I'll be allowed to listen to headphones, since they'll be scanning my brain, and I have no one to sit with me or drive me home should I get the reportedly-disorienting contrast. And they said is should take an hour to an hour and a half. And now that I know, I shall wear clothing without metal.
yendi has your number and will call you if anything happens.") and to theorize that the "brain tumor" (which she has decided now is "a pituitary thing maybe") was why I had emotional problems as an adolescent.Because the abuse issues had nothing to do with that, I'm sure. Because of course the "brain tumor" works retroactively (15-20 years!) to explain why I was not a Stepford child.
Because if it's something physiological, she doesn't have to feel guilty for first neglecting me, than shipping me off to mental hospitals and group homes and wilderness survival programs and drugging me with Thorazine and Haldol, you see.
It's not that easy, Mom.
MRI stuff: Thanks for all the info! Fortunately, I'm not claustrophobic, nor do I have any tattoos. Unfortunately, I don't know if I'll be allowed to listen to headphones, since they'll be scanning my brain, and I have no one to sit with me or drive me home should I get the reportedly-disorienting contrast. And they said is should take an hour to an hour and a half. And now that I know, I shall wear clothing without metal.