I’m brimming with gratitude for having wrapped up a great week. On Monday, Memorial Day, my memoir, Stunted: A Memoir of Delayed Manhood, was officially released by Toplight Books, an imprint of McFarland & Company. My Goodreads Giveaway continues until June 1 if you want to try to win a copy.
You can also find the book on Amazon or Bookshop.
On Tuesday afternoon, I had my sixth-month follow-up appointment with my neurosurgeon, Dr. H. I received the radiologist’s report early Tuesday morning when I logged into Upstate’s patient portal. Upon reading that the tumor had grown measurably since the last scan in September, two thoughts swam through my brain—can the radiation oncology team hit the tumor with another round of Gamma Knife radiosurgery, and, if not, can I schedule my brain surgery over the summer so it won’t disrupt my busy work schedule that ramps up during the fall semester at Syracuse University?
To make it to my appointment, I had to take a Centro bus out to the Upstate University Medicine office in the Township 5 shopping center in Camillus, which is an Area 51-sized example of suburban sprawl.
Here are the quotes from the report that troubled me:
There has been “significant interval enlargement of the sellar and suprasellar mass consistent with known craniopharyngioma. On the current examination the mass measures 2.3 x 1.4 x 2.1 cm. On the comparison study dated 9/3/2025 the mass measured 1.6 x 1.1 x 1.7 cm.
“. . . There is worsened superior displacement and compression of the optic chiasm right worse than left.”
Yet when I see the always sanguine, gum-snapping Dr. H., he’s unruffled by the latest report. Dressed in a green, plaid flannel shirt and brown khakis, he takes a seat and explains that he reviewed the previous scans, lined everything up, and determined that the tumor has not grown significantly. He tries to allay my fears by giving me a detailed description of how different MRI machines or variations in the “slices of images” can affect the interpretation of the scan.
My two latest MRI scans appear on computer screens. The image on the left is from September, and the one on the right is from this May. The craniopharyngioma is the circular object in the middle of the brain.
Dr. H’s recommendation: Wait and see. Reschedule another MRI in six months.
I have no objection to this approach, and I left the office feeling grateful for another six-month reprieve—another half a year to live with no scheduled surgical intervention.
At the same time, I know the tumor isn’t sitting idle. It’s in a constant state of aggregation, growing steadily as the fluid inside expands, and at some point, it will likely provoke headaches and double vision (more than just to my extreme right).
But I try not to fall victim to the futility of worrying about my health (easier said than done).
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On Friday, Upstate posted my conversation with host Amber Smith on the Informed Patient podcast. I much prefer pitching questions instead of fielding them.
I’ve conducted countless interviews in my role as a video producer at SU since 2007, and it’s definitely weird to be on the other side, to be the interviewee and not the interviewer. But it gave me a warm feeling of nostalgia for my radio days (circa 1996-2006).
Francis DiClemente 
Hi Francis,
I’m so glad you’ve shared this message with the recent information about your health and about your memoir. Thanks, too, for the link to the interview with Amber Smith. It was interesting to learn a bit more about your health challenge and also about the process of writing your book.
As you talked a bit about your philosophy for living with a brain tumor and the impact it has had on your life as a boy and a man, I found statements that were of help to me at this time in my life. Let me hasten to say, however, that I know what you face on a daily basis—the unknowing—far outweighs the my concerns as an elderly person.
But I’ll just say that when I turned 80, almost 4 years ago, there was a difference in the way I was able to approach living life. Physical pain affects mental and emotional well-being, as you have alluded to. So Gratitude, that very powerful approach to life, no matter what its condition, is something I strive toward daily. And the joys of the ordinary. (I’m currently in love with three crows who come to my deck for peanuts.)
I admire you greatly, Francis. And I’m grateful for our friendship. It was my pleasure to talk with Mike Constanza about that friendship, though there’s no way to know what he will choose to use.
I’m greatly looking forward to reading your book.
Warmly,
Kathy
Thank you so much, Kathy for your kind and inspiring words. I’m not 80 yet, but I can relate to how aging affects one’s outlook on life. I like how you have taken ordinary moments and imbued them with meaning through your short poems. Did you write one about the three crows. And I am also very grateful for our friendship! Thank you for everything.