I definitely kind of forgot libraries existed until reading your newsletter. And yesterday, I ventured into one for the first time in at least a decade! Coincidentally, I was looking for The Body Keeps The Score, to no avail. But I did bring home two YA graphic novels, hurraw!
a line i love in the this that i love which is full of lines that i love:
“The brain surgeon thinking the brain is the most beautiful thing is the most beautiful thing.”
i think the writer (you) writing about the most beautiful thing (this) is the most beautiful thing.
PS i also really like when wise people say things like "the short answer is that we really don’t know."
PPS thank you for sharing your helmet thoughts and feelings. i hope t's head and brain and heart and body get everything they need (and/or better/more! and not just t's! also yours! and everyone's!).
Popping in to agree with your dislike of The Body Keeps the Score and recommend Staci K Haines’ “The Politics of Trauma” which blends a tangible somatic approach with a thorough acknowledgement of how oppressive systems create and perpetuate trauma. It is 1000 times better than TBKTS.
The instagram post about animals in winter is how I found you a year ago, so it's especially dear to me and I was so happy to see it. And my husband reminded me of it just last week, since we live way up North and Winter is so Coming. But here's what I wanted to say: Our youngest had something wrong with her hips (nothing too serious) (but serious enough for me to absolutely not know the English word for it) and wore a sort of hard plastic dungarees for four months, that turned her into a little square and made nursing difficult, if not impossible. This was not cancer. Or the least bit dangerous. It was just impractical and a bit annoying, but yes, I cried over these hard-hat-trousers and hated them fiercely. For all of the reasons you hate your daughter's helmet. And I felt shame for doing so, but still did it. They were shite. After four months they were removed and she was fine and her hips in the right place and I forgot all about it and never looked back. Until today, reading about your feelings about the helmet. So here is some love and understanding coming your way. You are doing a good enough job. ♥️
So much of this touches my life--as a former teacher and as a person who helps make educational opportunities like dissections and experts turned guest speakers happen.
I never dissected anything in high school (Thanks, Texas?). But, the summer before I met you, part of my job was ordering and shipping--mostly overnight from huge science companies on the east and west coasts--thousands of dollars in animal specimens for dissection at the summer camp I am now an administrator for, for some of the classes whose curriculum I’m now responsible for. Intro to Biomedicine is still the most enrolled course, consistently capping out, multiple times per summer. And I hope that the diverse student body population in these classes starts to turn the tide a bit, and make being a Latina or Black neurosurgeon more common.
I also love the reminder to lean into my animal self. With fewer than 4 weeks to go--supposedly--before baby, I’m fatigued as hell and stressed about doing All The Things for work and home that ‘need’ doing before I go on leave. Thanks for the reminder to listen to my body and not only the To Do list.
I find it so invigorating when people have the absolute right job and it brings them joy. It sounds like the neurosurgeon loves her job which is amazing because I would not love that job and I think it would be a bad fit for so many people. I’m grateful for people who love being neurosurgeons!
This was wonderful to read — the whole thing, the neurosurgeon and her insights, and your observations, and the gorgeous fibers of the brain, the New Yorker denied cartoons that were better than many cartoons I've actually read in the New Yorker, and mostly feeling like I was in the room. Thank you. And also, thank you for sharing about T's helmet. I somehow missed the earlier explanation, but I had wondered, and was glad to know and glad it was not super serious, life threatening, etc. etc. And I was grateful for you sharing this sliver of hardness among all the sunny stories. I hope her helmet comes off soon and you can go back to inhaling the sweetness of her little head. In case this is helpful, as the mom of an 8-year-old, I can vouch that a child's head is also great to smell and kiss at age 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. (At some point, maybe it stops being blissful, but not yet!)
I love this, thank you so much for sharing it. I was raised to question my feelings, and my parents rarely believed me when I was sick (no fever!). This has been an entire a struggle for my entire life.
And thank you for sharing the story of the Helmut. I can totally relate, but I believe that you made the right decision.
This is exactly what I needed yesterday. But I’ll remember it going forward. Thank you for sharing
I definitely kind of forgot libraries existed until reading your newsletter. And yesterday, I ventured into one for the first time in at least a decade! Coincidentally, I was looking for The Body Keeps The Score, to no avail. But I did bring home two YA graphic novels, hurraw!
i love this!
a line i love in the this that i love which is full of lines that i love:
“The brain surgeon thinking the brain is the most beautiful thing is the most beautiful thing.”
i think the writer (you) writing about the most beautiful thing (this) is the most beautiful thing.
PS i also really like when wise people say things like "the short answer is that we really don’t know."
PPS thank you for sharing your helmet thoughts and feelings. i hope t's head and brain and heart and body get everything they need (and/or better/more! and not just t's! also yours! and everyone's!).
I can't believe these cartoons were rejected. They are incredible.
Popping in to agree with your dislike of The Body Keeps the Score and recommend Staci K Haines’ “The Politics of Trauma” which blends a tangible somatic approach with a thorough acknowledgement of how oppressive systems create and perpetuate trauma. It is 1000 times better than TBKTS.
The instagram post about animals in winter is how I found you a year ago, so it's especially dear to me and I was so happy to see it. And my husband reminded me of it just last week, since we live way up North and Winter is so Coming. But here's what I wanted to say: Our youngest had something wrong with her hips (nothing too serious) (but serious enough for me to absolutely not know the English word for it) and wore a sort of hard plastic dungarees for four months, that turned her into a little square and made nursing difficult, if not impossible. This was not cancer. Or the least bit dangerous. It was just impractical and a bit annoying, but yes, I cried over these hard-hat-trousers and hated them fiercely. For all of the reasons you hate your daughter's helmet. And I felt shame for doing so, but still did it. They were shite. After four months they were removed and she was fine and her hips in the right place and I forgot all about it and never looked back. Until today, reading about your feelings about the helmet. So here is some love and understanding coming your way. You are doing a good enough job. ♥️
So much of this touches my life--as a former teacher and as a person who helps make educational opportunities like dissections and experts turned guest speakers happen.
I never dissected anything in high school (Thanks, Texas?). But, the summer before I met you, part of my job was ordering and shipping--mostly overnight from huge science companies on the east and west coasts--thousands of dollars in animal specimens for dissection at the summer camp I am now an administrator for, for some of the classes whose curriculum I’m now responsible for. Intro to Biomedicine is still the most enrolled course, consistently capping out, multiple times per summer. And I hope that the diverse student body population in these classes starts to turn the tide a bit, and make being a Latina or Black neurosurgeon more common.
I also love the reminder to lean into my animal self. With fewer than 4 weeks to go--supposedly--before baby, I’m fatigued as hell and stressed about doing All The Things for work and home that ‘need’ doing before I go on leave. Thanks for the reminder to listen to my body and not only the To Do list.
I find it so invigorating when people have the absolute right job and it brings them joy. It sounds like the neurosurgeon loves her job which is amazing because I would not love that job and I think it would be a bad fit for so many people. I’m grateful for people who love being neurosurgeons!
This was wonderful to read — the whole thing, the neurosurgeon and her insights, and your observations, and the gorgeous fibers of the brain, the New Yorker denied cartoons that were better than many cartoons I've actually read in the New Yorker, and mostly feeling like I was in the room. Thank you. And also, thank you for sharing about T's helmet. I somehow missed the earlier explanation, but I had wondered, and was glad to know and glad it was not super serious, life threatening, etc. etc. And I was grateful for you sharing this sliver of hardness among all the sunny stories. I hope her helmet comes off soon and you can go back to inhaling the sweetness of her little head. In case this is helpful, as the mom of an 8-year-old, I can vouch that a child's head is also great to smell and kiss at age 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. (At some point, maybe it stops being blissful, but not yet!)
I love this, thank you so much for sharing it. I was raised to question my feelings, and my parents rarely believed me when I was sick (no fever!). This has been an entire a struggle for my entire life.
And thank you for sharing the story of the Helmut. I can totally relate, but I believe that you made the right decision.