That Incredible, Incomprehensible Thing in my Head

 

"The human brain has 100 billion neurons, each neuron

connected to ten thousand other neurons.  Sitting on your shoulders

is the most complicated object in the known universe."

--Michio Kaku

"Everything we do, every thought we've ever had

is produced by the human brain.  But exactly how it operates

remains one of the biggest unsolved mysteries."

--Neil deGrasse Tyson

Copyright © 2023

By Ralph F. Couey

We plow through each day, tackling problems, creating solutions, remembering, and predicting.  We calculate numbers, the intentions of others, all happening in that incredibly complex thing inside our head.

The human body, with all the things it has to do, is a wonder of engineering, and it's easy to take it for granted.  We don't have to think about making our heart beat, or breathing, it does it by itself.  But of all the parts of us, I would say that our brain is the one thing we most often take for granted.

Last week, at the behest of my doctor, I submitted myself for an MRI of my brain.  Magnetic Resonance Imaging is one of those miraculous devices that allow doctors to peer inside the human body without doing what used to be called "exploratory surgery."  The device uses strong magnetic fields and radio waves to generate images of human organs.  According to Wikipedia, the response of hydrogen nuclei in human tissues are separated from other nuclei by the magnetic field resonating at the hydrogen frequency.  To make a long story short, that resonance allows images to be captured, one slice at a time.  This gives the doctor the ability to closely examine the organ from the inside out.  This has enabled the early diagnoses of a wide range of dangerous conditions, thus saving countless lives.

I've had a few of these before, so I knew what to expect.  After changing into a gown and carefully ridding myself of anything metal, I was taken into the room and laid on the bed.  Over the years, these beds have become much more comfortable, avoiding the annoyance of back muscle cramps.  After a period of instruction and insertion of earplugs, I was slid into the device.  

I've been claustrophobic in the past, but I was given a kind of mirror that allowed me to look out into open space, and not at the curved shell inches above my nose.  Plus, having lost a lot of weight means I don't fill the tube like I used to.  There was a nice cool breeze flowing through the tube which helped a lot.  In fact, I was so comfortable, I fell asleep, even with the TONK TONK TONK going on around my head.

The Routine -- And Breaking It Up

 

In happier days...

Copyright © 2023

by Ralph F. Couey

There are roads one can drive that create a journey that is seemingly endless.  US 180 through West Texas, US 54 across the Western two-thirds of Kansas, US 50 across the Nevada desert.  The towns passed look curiously alike, almost like Bill Murray's repetitious Groundhog Day.  Life, for me has fallen into the same kind of repeating journey.  The days don't have enough difference to stand out in any way, and I find that the weeks are passing rapidly, kind of like those white-painted road posts so common in the west.

I guess my week actually starts on Tuesday, one of my two regular days off.  That's laundry day, so I'm engaged in that for most of the day.  I'm the cook that evening, so when I finish the clothes, I start putting dinner together.  Tuesday evening is one of the few times that Cheryl and I are home together, hours we have come to cherish more and more.  Wednesday morning is Ground Golf (huge in Japan, by the way) which takes up most of the morning.  My work week starts that night when I go in late for a midnight shift (technically Thursday) which means that half of my day off I have to spend in bed collecting Z's for a long night.  When I get home Thursday morning, I have a couple of hours, then its back to bed so I can have a few hours with Cheryl before I leave for work.  

I get off Friday morning and don't have to go back in until Saturday afternoon, so it's kind of a day off, except I'm really tired by then.  Now if I can stay awake long enough, those two mornings are great for doing my walking in Waikiki.  I'm off to bed early and then up again Saturday morning.  We have some time together for shopping and errands before I leave early afternoon for my evening shifts Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.  Sunday is church and a quick nap before going in.  Monday passes, and it all starts over again.  If I have enough time, I stop at my overlook on Diamond Head Road, gaze at the ocean, and feed my birds for a few minutes.

This is my life, for what its worth.  The midnight shifts are a trial at my age, and they represent a mountain that has to be climbed.  Not a lot of fun.  Jumping shifts like this really makes my sleep patterns tough, but I have a mortgage and a Mustang, and "I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go..."

One thing about a routine though.  It's like getting on a train and letting it carry you along.  But it does make the calendar fly by with distressing speed.  The calendar compresses and I have conversations like, "Wasn't July just two weeks ago?"