My Life Through Mario: Why Playing Video Games Isn't Necessarily a Bad Thing

Some of my earliest memories involve the Atari 2600 game system. Pac Man, Kool-Aid Man, Q-bert, etc were one of my brother's favorite ways of passing time when we were growing up. On rare occasions he allowed his nine years younger sister (me) to play the games with him. Although I enjoyed the video games, it was more fun to pretend to be a mom to my baby dolls, a hair dresser to my Barbie dolls, or romp outside.

By 1985, Nintendo Entertainment Systems were released. My aunt and uncle purchased one with the game Super Mario Brothers/Duck Hunt arriving with the system. My first exposure to a character who would take a bizarre importance in my life was at their house. The concept was to bring this fuzzy Italian looking guy named Mario through different levels to find the kidnapped princess.

Although I was only eight years old, I recall vividly my first experience with Super Mario Brothers. My character was killed before finishing the first level. I continued playing with my then six year old and four year old cousin until I could survive about halfway through the first world. A few years later my brother bought a Nintendo and I played his like I had the Atari 2600 but my interests were changing from dolls to boys.

In 1992, I faced a forced slowdown of my life. Two months after beginning the tenth grade, a return visit to St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in Memphis, TN showed I had a blocked ureter. The blockage was revealed to be a relapsed dysgerminoma (a rare form of ovarian cancer). Due to the positioning of the tumor the staging was stage IV. Within five days of surgery, I began chemotherapy.

Chemotherapy causes good cells to die along with bad. Within two weeks of my first chemotherapy, my hair had fallen out and my blood cell counts began to drop. White blood cells are an important defense against infection and mine plummeted to very low levels. I began to be isolated from friends and school due to risk of acquiring germs and illness.

I am not sure when Super Mario Brothers reentered my life but it was during this period. St. Jude Hospital had Nintendo Entertainment Systems for its patients so perhaps I began playing early on in treatment. I remember my life was chaotic during the period when I reencountered Mario. The constants in my life quickly became my parents, my prayers, and my playing Super Mario Brothers.

By my third set of treatments I had advanced games to Super Mario Brothers 3. Being able to play provided an escape. I refused to use warp zones and instead worked straight through the game. In spite of pain, nausea, and fear of cancer problems I played Mario. In fact I played it so often my dad said the music would be playing in Hell. Years later when my mom began her cancer battle she made a statement that playing Super Mario Brothers kept me sane. How right she was.

For those months in treatment, Mario became my alter ego. If I practiced I could become strong, flying right through the tough stuff. As time went on and I went through increasingly painful tests I literally imagined myself with a raccoon tail flying above the situation. All of this is important stuff for a fifteen year old who had no other illusions of immortality.

I do not remember when I ceased playing Super Mario Brothers 3. Going back to school allowed life to return somewhat to normal. Over time my interest in video games faded. I grew up and began dating, eventually married, and had two children.

A few months shy of a year ago, my sister decided to give my six year old son a Nintendo Wii. My son has his father's genes which automatically made him half "gamer" but his attraction to the new Super Mario Brothers Wii was beyond any attraction to any previous video game. I laughingly said I must have encoded his genes with a love for Super Mario Brothers. Over time I began accompanying him on his Mario adventures.

Mario changed a little. His outline is clearer and the game is more complicated but his purpose remains the same-finding the kidnapped princess. We practiced and played, practiced and played. I noticed myself asking my son to play the game more when stresses overwhelmed us. In six months we lost my mom to cancer, almost lost his mom to a brain aneurysm rupture, and most recently learned my daughter will have an abnormality on her brain watched every three months. Since 1992, my life has not been this stressed. It seems fitting Mario reentered my life at this time.

Because we have Cowden Syndrome and extreme risk of cancers, my son, daughter, and I live much of our lives in the gray zone. The reality is black or white-either cancer is there or not but diagnostic imagining isn't yet at a point where we can know if we are black or white. Illusions of immortality have never been a part of my life and sadly it seems this is the case with my children as well. Mortality is an issue we all face-no matter what our genetic makeup is. Practice in life does not change our mortal nature. Practice in Mario or other video games provides an escape in that we can believe in immortality. For me, it gave the chance for an illusion others often take for granted when I was young. As an adult, it provides a chance to bond with my children and give them a way to cope.