The tumour

I recently became addicted to the show Grey's Anatomy. From neurology to orthodontics, the series has crippled every aspect of me. One of the episodes about a tumor was probably my favorite.
Life, with its origins and lessons, is a story of constant evolution. At its core, life finds a way to survive and thrive in the face of adversity. This survival instinct applies even to tumors, specifically astrocytomas. The tumor invades healthy tissue and merges with blood vessels, adapting and struggling for survival. It embeds itself in the human brain, feeding and growing while fighting for survival.
It's incredible—and unsettling—to think that this mass of cells, which can even form tooth-like structures, is simply trying to survive. Consider this: doctors are the invaders, according to the tumor. They are a threat. They're the cancer. As humans, doctors bring a newborn into the world and nurture it, but they see this tumor, which is also fighting for life, as something to destroy, to eliminate from its home in the brain.
To the tumor, they are merciless attackers, barbarians ripping it from its haven. The tumor is like a baby? Because it is alive and trying to survive. When the doctor confronts it—when she sees it up close in a living, breathing form—it is nearly impossible not to recognize its tenacity. However, in order to save a life, she must gently guide it there, stop its destructive path, and bid it a final good night.