brain
The Scarcity of Words
When I was a kid, I used to have the strange belief that we had a limited number of words we could speak in our lifetime; once we ran out, no more talking, no matter how much longer we lived. I know, this sounds like something a parent would say to an overly inquisitive or talkative toddler, but I’ve been told that they never said anything like that to me. I was a weird kid.
I’ve been thinking lately about the last time I was unemployed and searching for my next thing. I had recently had thyroid surgery and the doctor told me that there was a chance they could nick my vocal cords and cause permanent damage. After I went home to recover from the surgery, I wound up getting the hiccups. We called the doctor and he prescribed a surprising remedy; apparently, Thorazine (the anti-psychotic) cures the hiccups instantly. I stopped hiccuping and I was one with the universe for a while. I understood everything; it all made so much sense! I even took notes; they are complete, untranslatable gibberish but I’m sure there is deep meaning in them somewhere.
In the meantime, I did end up losing my voice; I sounded like I had been smoking for a thousand years. The best I could do was a hoarse whisper, which took a lot of effort and wore me out quickly. I had a hard time getting past the phone interview and even those didn’t last long. I felt the need to explain why I sounded like that. I was in my mid-twenties and I sounded like I was well past retirement age.
I finally got my voice back while plummeting 189 feet on an amusement park bungee jump ride. I yelled “Oh F%&K!” as I was falling and my voice suddenly popped back. To this day, if I’ve been talking a lot or have been in a lot of meetings, my voice wears out and the muscles in my throat feel like they’ve had a workout at a gym.
I was somewhat prescient about the finite nature of words as a kid; I just had the time-frame wrong. It’s not a lifetime limit - it’s a daily one. By the end of a long day of meetings, words have a higher cost for me. Maybe that’s not a bad thing; scarcity has a way of making you focus on what and who is really important.
Two Movies
There are many movies that had a significant impact on me when I was a kid. My dad would often let my brother and I watch movies that we were in no way appropriate for our age - The Exorcist) gave me so many nightmares. Two movies however, have a special, weird place in my mind. I’ve searched for years to find the names of the movies, I’ve had distinct memories from both, but I couldn’t find anything about them. Though the internet and social media can be pretty toxic these days, they can also drop little bits of joy as well. Several years ago, I decided to make a concerted effort to figure out what these movies were. After a lot of digging, I finally found one, a post-apocalyptic survival movie Damnation Alley. I’m fairly certainly a scene in this movie is the source of my aversion to cockroaches. I distinctly remember someone getting eated alive in an old car by giant cockroaches. It was released in 1977, so I would have been six at the time. I remember my dad picked up my brother and I for one of our first post-divorce outings with him. He took us to see Damnation Alley in the theater. Shortly after I rediscovered it, my wife and I streamed it; it was pretty bad but so entertaining and gratifying to fill that memory gap.
The other movie has eluded me for years, until today. I was doomscrolling Instagram Reels and came across a clip from an old movie with a young Tom Hanks about D&D, Mazes and Monters when I recognized one of the other actors, Chris Makepeace. I looked up Mazes and Monsters on IMDB and found Chris’ profile, then searched for his other early movies and found the movie that I’ve been searching for as long as I can remember! It’s a made for TV movie, released in 1982, when I was eleven. It had a huge impact on me; I remember feeling excited by the concept of romantic love and true friendship. I’m sure it impacted my psyche; part of why I’m such a hopeless romantic. Life is supposed to mean something, even if it’s self-defined. Watching bits of it now takes me back - I remember the characters like it was yesterday! It was based, very loosely on a Mark Twain Novella of the same name, The Mysterious Stranger.
It’s so strange and cool that both movies are available in full out there on the internet. I’ve been searching for the Mysterious Stranger for so long, I’m a little blown away that I came across it so randomly today! It’s like the last puzzle piece fitting into place. Now I need to find a new mystery to obsess about.
Neurologist
I just met with the neurologist. I passed all of her neuro-tests with flying colors, which means there is no new reason for the headaches. They are simply a result of my brain dealing with the embolization. As she put it “Your brain is mad at you.” She prescribed some painkillers for when it’s really bad and something else that should help with the pain long term. We’ll spend a week or two figuring out the proper dosage of the new drug.
I am, of course having another bad headache now after going to the doctor and then the pharmacy. Every time I try to be even a little more active, I get these headaches - it’s beyond frustrating. She said it could take a few days for the new drug to really start helping. She generally prefers to have patients start it on a Friday night so they have the weekend to get used to it. Since I’m not working right now, I can start it tonight.
The good news is, I should be feeling somewhat normal again soon!