A friend asked me recently why I was interested enough in neuroplasticity to undertake the creation and maintenance of a blog on the subject. I replied, and I had to think for a moment, that I found it exciting because it was a new frontier in medicine. The friend happens to be a physician and her response was a knowing smile and a nod. I have read that almost all of our knowledge in the field of neuroscience has been gained in the last ten years. But there is more to my interest than that. Neuroplasticity means hope, hope that things will change. I read a post on a site called MD Junction by a patient who is particularly depression prone. She takes great comfort, not that new findings in neuroscience can treat her depression but that it can help reverse negative behaviors and habits. Current thinking in the treatment of neurological disorders is that if you don’t have symptoms you don’t have the disorder. For example, a firefighter might have been diagnosed with ADHD in high school but in his high stimulation job, he functions quite well–so no symptoms, no ADHD. To me this means that the disorder gets separated from the person. Not long after my diagnosis, a friend said to me at a low point, “You are not an ADHD person–you are a person with ADHD.” I still have symptoms, even on medication but I have never forgotten the hope inherent in my friend’s statement. And he would know because he too has been diagnosed with ADHD. Hope means many things but perhaps the most important is the idea of change. St. Augustine said that hope has two lovely daughters: anger at the way things are and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are.
The Center for Stroke Recovery in Toronto assembled a dream team of neuroscienctists to employ the latest findings in neuroscience to help stroke victims recover. Much of the effort afforded by a $10 million donation from the Heart and Stroke Foundation will focus on the association between exercise and brain health. Dr. Dale Corbett, CEO and Scientific Director of the center says, “We’re excited about the significance of how exercise can improve brain health by changing the blood flow to the brain to speed up recovery after a stroke.” Research will focus on learning what intensity and duration of exercise will bring the best results in getting the brain to reorganize and compensate for stroke damage.
A friend recently posted a link on Facebook to a report by a research team from Duke University Medical Central along with some Australian scientists who found that, “Addictive drugs may hijack the same nerve cells and connections in the brain that serve a powerful, ancient instinct: the appetite for salt.” One of the co-authors of the report, Wolfgang Lietke, M.D., Ph.D. said, “We were surprised and gratified to see that blocking addiction-related pathways could powerfully interfere with sodium appetite. Our findings have profound and far-reaching medical implications, and could lead to a new understanding of addiction and the detrimental consequences when obesity-generating foods are overloaded with sodium.” You can read more about the study and its implications for addiction research here.
This finding reminded me of something Tim Bilkey M.D. told me in a consultation following his diagnosis of my ADHD. He noted that in his clinical practice he was finding that patients with ADHD had cravings for salt in snacks not sugar. He wondered whether there might be some connection to the fact that the most commonly prescribed drugs for this condition–Dexedrine and amphetamine–are technically salts.
A comment made in a lecture a few years ago by Umesh Jain, who heads the ADHD clinic at Center For Addiction and Mental Health here in Toronto came back to haunt me over the last couple of days. He said that the major difference between treatment for Adults with ADHD and children is that with the adults you must first deal with the self esteem issues or you won’t get anywhere with treatment. With children, he went on to say, there usually aren’t any self esteem issue. There hasn’t been time. It is a different story with adults where has been failure after failure, defeat after defeat and years of not measuring up, all leading to self condemnation and despair. This is probably the reason that I have trouble controlling my anger when I encounter people who refuse to recognize that the disorder even exists. I hesitate to say that only a person who has been through the kind of failure that a lifetime with ADHD can breed can really understand that. Someone who has been down that path can have a special empathy for another fellow traveler. Perhaps some of us have developed a mechanism that prevents us from feeling sorry for ourselves. You could say this is a part of the resiliency that comes with making it into adulthood coping with a disorder that can be so debilitating. This mechanism doesn’t prevent us from feeling sorry for another individual who is struggling, perhaps still undiagnosed.
I have been puzzled lately, by how quickly I can be moved to tears, not in public, but in the privacy of my own apartment. Any suggestion on television or on the Internet that has to do with human suffering can trigger tears. After the potential for embarrassment I do hold them back in public. It doesn’t seem appropriate for a person with a second degree black belt in karate. But I am still affected.
On the other hand there is an upside to being an adult who has ADHD. Years of failure and defeat but never giving up means you have to have developed resiliency. It means you have staying power and you can survive. If you are an adult who has just been diagnosed–this simple fact may offer hope, perhaps enough hope to help you raise your self esteem.
I did a lot of talking yesterday and at the beginning of the day I marveled at how I could find the right words talking over coffee with a friend. I went to a karate class, helped a couple of friends who were going to a grading Saturday (one black belt, the other 2nd degree black) with terminology. Then I went to the dermatologist and although I had to wait an hour and a half before I saw her, I managed to ask all the questions I needed to. Not like the last time. Then in the evening, with no dinner, I went to an event where a number of people spoke to the group, including me, more than once. The first time I needed to address three topics, briefly, and had some difficulty remembering the three while I waited to speak. When I did speak I did okay with a few rough edges but the last time I spoke to the group, about an hour later, I was quite tongue tied. I forgot a large part of what I wanted to say and what I did say was difficult with a few long pauses as I searched for the right word and then, in despair, an alternative word. I don’t think many of the attendees took any note of the problems. I did. In fact I was much more unsettled than I probably should have been. Why? I think it is because verbal skills is my strongest suit. On pych assessments I have usually scored in the gifted range. It felt almost as if that gift had been taken away from me, even though it was only briefly. I had resolved in the past not to fight it and when I get any kind of tip-off that it could happen, or might happen, I try to keep what I have to say brief, if not avoid speaking at all. I didn’t last night and probably more than anything that is what is bothering me. I had lots of warning that it might happen, even that it was starting to happen. Lots of people, especially past the age of 50, have word finding problems at one time or another. I doubt though, that they present their difficulties in front of a hundred people as I did. I think, mostly I am reminding myself, in writing this post, of my resolve to watch for the signs in the future and then cut my losses.
Any of you had this problem and if so how do you deal with it?