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.
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?
My father’s mother, my grandmother, developed dementia in her 80′s, I was about 14 at the time. It was not a pretty sight. She didn’t know me, she didn’t know my father and most of the time she didn’t know where she was. She was in a Salvation Army Home For The Aged and, I might add, well looked after. I also have a vivid memory of a neighbor trying to break down our front door, with her caregiver trying sesparately to prevent her, while I cowered just inside trying to remain invisible. She was calling out to be let in and I was trying to give the impression that no one was home. This time I was about 10. I know times have changed since those times and there is better care and better medication for what we used to call senility but better still would be not to have it at all. New studies in neuroplasticity indicate that it can be avoided and, if you do get it, you might be able to overcome at least some of the symptoms. This is reported in an earlier post in the blog referring to the Nuns’ Study. This study reported, amongst other things, that nuns who showed physical symptoms of Alzheimer’s Disease but no neurological symptoms had been active in teaching right up until they died. This would tend to indicate that keeping the brain active is good but engaging with other humans is even better. A post yesterday in the Huffington Post authored by Dr. Marie Pasinski, a neurologist at Massachusetts General Hospital suggest that activites present us with new ideas and challenges and require us to adapt in new and different ways are best to keep the brain healthy. She also emphasizes eating right, particularly foods rich in antioxidants such as Omega 3′s. She suggests seeking things that ignite passion which enhances our brains ability to learn and remember. “By enriching your mind each day with new experiences and information you are building up what is called ‘cognitive reserve’. It’s like putting money in the bank–the more information you have stored over time, the more resilient your brain will become.”
My earliest impressions of dementia are from a time when there was little that could be done about it. Those impressions need to be brought forward and rexamined in light of what medicine can accomplish now. But more importantly, there is much I can accomplish now and the time to start is today. Apparently reading posts on blogs is good. Writing them is even better.
It has been far too long since my last post. This post represents my re-dedication to this blog and will be about what has provided much pleasure and insight over the past four months. Since I purchased it on March 16th, I have ridden over 3,000 miles on my Aprilia Scarabeo 50 motor scooter. Today, November the second, it is six degrees Celsius outside and I have to meet a friend for lunch. Almost certainly, I will be riding to the restaurant on my scooter. Why? There are many reasons. I like riding it. I like the feeling of connection, of being part of the surrounding landscape as opposed to just an observer. I like the fact that I can park for free and in fact, as per current Toronto municipal bylaws, will be able to park it on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the restaurant. It will be cold, particularly on my hands although I will be wearing a pair of North Face gloves intended for expeditions to places such as Mount Everest. I will be wearing blue jeans but my legs will be cold. I will be wearing a full-face helmet which quite frankly I should wear more often but it is awkward to get into and will not fit in my top box so I will have to take it with me into the restaurant. But I will be content. The ride is only five minutes. It is sunny and crisp and the sky is that sort of late-fall blue, silhouetting some brightly colored leaves that still remain on the trees. I will probably burn about 10 cents worth of gas getting there and I will arrive cold but happy.
Why is all this important? Primarily, it is the reason I started this blog in the first place and that is to begin a journey to understand how my brain works.
A short time ago, a friend of mine who rides a bike, told me that she enjoys riding but only when she has a destination. The only exception was on Sunday when she seemed to be able to just ride around aimlessly and enjoy the surroundings. This interested me because when she articulated this, I realized that I felt the same way about my scooter. Rides with no destination during the week were not as enjoyable as rides where I was going somewhere specific. On Sunday, or on statutory holidays, I could ride without any more destination in mind than to head north out of the city. I had thought the no destination thing was just me until my friend shared her thoughts and now I wonder if this is more general. I also wonder what it is about my brain and my friend’s, that the a destination makes a big difference in terms of the enjoyment of a ride.
What do you think?
Are you a bike rider, either powered or not, and can you just go for a ride without worrying about where you are going? I would love to get feedback from you in the comments section if you have a moment.