The Insula. The Unknown. And the Next Chapter for Boston.

The Insula. The Unknown. And the Next Chapter for Boston.

The last few days have given us answers — just not the kind we were hoping for.

Boston had a seizure during monitoring, which is exactly what the medical team needed in order to pinpoint where the activity is coming from. The results confirmed that his seizures originate deep in the brain, in an area called the insula.

If you’ve never heard of the insula before, you’re not alone.

It’s a deep cortical structure that plays a critical role in integrating sensory, emotional, and cognitive information. It helps regulate bodily awareness, pain perception, emotional processing, and aspects of language and understanding. In simple terms: it’s not an area surgeons can casually remove without consequences.

That’s where things get complicated.

The seizure focus is deep. The layers surrounding it affect essential brain function. Because of that, traditional resection or ablation is not a safe option. The first surgery did not eliminate all seizure activity — and the remaining area is not accessible in a way that allows removal without significant risk.

So where does that leave us?

The next option on the table is an RNS (Responsive Neurostimulation) device.

An RNS device is implanted in the skull with leads placed near the seizure focus. It continuously monitors brain activity and responds in real time, delivering small electrical impulses when abnormal patterns are detected. The goal is to interrupt seizures before they fully develop and reduce their frequency and severity over time.

It is not a cure.
It is not immediate.
It is a long-term management strategy.

Right now, we are waiting for the doctors to finalize the plan and timeline. The implanted monitoring leads will be removed soon, and we will move into the next phase of decision-making.

Emotionally, this has been heavy.

There is something incredibly hard about hearing, “We can’t safely remove it.” There is grief in that sentence. There is also resilience in it.

Boston has handled this entire process with strength beyond his years. He’s uncomfortable. He’s tired of hospital rooms. He’s over the wires and the waiting. But he’s steady. He’s brave. And he keeps showing up.

Michonne continues to navigate this with the kind of strength only a mother understands — sitting in rooms no one wants to sit in, asking hard questions, holding space for uncertainty.

We are not at the end of options.

We are at a more complex crossroads.

Thank you for the prayers.
Thank you for the encouragement.
Thank you for standing with this family.

This is the chapter where resilience gets built.

And Boston has backbone.