Little darlings, it’s been a long, cold, lonely winter. It seems like years since it’s been clear.
Our Covid-19 numbers are going down! Once we receive a vaccine and give it time to work, we are told we can start getting together in small groups outside.
Little darlings, I feel that ice is slowly melting. I wonder if we will know what to do with our new freedom.
Yesterday Rob and I took a drive to Sauvie Island. The birds were out in force — snow geese, sandhill cranes, a pair of tundra swans, soaring eagles and kestrels up high on wires — and the sunshine.
We were standing on a bird-watching platform when another couple joined us. Masked and respectfully keeping our distance, we all kept looking at birds and Rob clicked a few photographs.
“Nancy?” the woman finally asked.
We studied each other for a moment. “Karen?” I said.
We pulled down our masks briefly to verify who we were and then put them back up. I’m not vaccinated and I’m determined to get to the Covid-19 finish line without getting anyone sick. But it was fantastic to see my dear friend in real life! She has been one of the foundational blocks of my year in quarantine, showing up every week for coffee at 8:30 on Monday mornings via Zoom.
I don’t think I can understate how valuable it has been during dark and cold days to have friends that show up. Soon we’ll take off our masks, for real, this time, and spend some time together, for real.
Here comes the sun. And I say, it’s alright. It’s alright.
We may not be talking about rocket science, but deep brain simulation (DBS) is definitely brain surgery and it’s incredibly invasive. It’s the last hope of many people with Parkinson’s disease. It’s both a scary proposition and a beacon of hope.
That’s why it’s good news that two recent studies in the journal Nature Medicine show that electrical simulation can address brain function with surprising speed and precision. Scientists are now looking at DBS techniques for purposes other than Parkinson’s disease, including depression and anxiety. The more light that is shining on DBS, the better the outcome.
As reported in the February 28, 2021 edition of the New York Times Magazine, a team from the University of California, San Francisco, mapped a patient’s brain activity and programmed electrodes to detect when the patient was depressed. This works similar to how a pacemaker acts on the heart. When the patient is fine, the electrodes do nothing; when she’s depressed, they deliver stimulation in response.
In the second study out of Boston University, researchers used a noninvasive technique called transcranial alternating current stimulation to deliver pulses. Their goal was to reduce obsessive-compulsive behaviors. By using personalized brain stimulation, they reduced the number of these behaviors by 30% over three months.
Psychiatrists won’t be prescribing DBS any time soon, but this research offers news ways to think about treating brain disorders. It’s more evidence that “our brains are plastic,” according to one of the Boston researchers, “and we can rewire the brain.” Maybe in the not-so-very-distant-future, these less-invasive transcranial techniques will assist targeted brain treatments to stop Parkinson’s disease from advancing. Take that, rocket science.
It’s been eight weeks since the earth flipped around.
I’m still here, trying to hold steady. For me, it’s a time when nothing feels easy. I search for rhythm in my days. I create lists that peter out after two or three items. I try to finish something, anything.
Each night, I decide to make it a bright day tomorrow.
I remember the things that have saved me before. Writing in my journal. Meditating. Exercise. Friends. Breathing.
Yesterday, the sun came out. The neighbors gathered for a Sunday afternoon socially distant check-in in our yard.
I poured a small glass of wine and went out the front door.
There it was: a heart made of rose petals. A bit of whimsy created as a token of affection by a neighbor.
A gift from the earth. Gratitude, affection, hope.
I caught my first glimpse of Oregon years ago on a February spring day. I was interviewing for my first job out of college and I heard the weather called “hiring weather.” This meant that fresh-eyed college kids like me would be easy to impress.
Was I! I was stunned by the sunny weather. And the blue skies. I could see snow-capped Mt. Hood and Mt. St. Helens on the horizon. I’d been warned that Oregon was mostly grey skies and rain, and that it would be a depressing, dreary place to live. Nobody had told me about this.
It was snowing when I left Colorado earlier that week. I was eager to take my next steps after school, very aware it meant moving away from home and taking on the work I had studied long to do. Even more than the sun, I was amazed by all the bulbs that were in bloom. Bright daffodils. Tulips. White and purple crocuses.
This morning, many years after I caught that first glimpse of Oregon, our yard is vibrant in yellow and purple with its annual show of February bulbs.
I believe this day is medicine, every bit as much as the Sinemet and Ropinerole that I take. I sit on the front steps and feel the sun on my face. As in-depth as science has studied dopamine, the only clear link I can find between dopamine and the sun is a theory that sunlight increases the number of dopamine receptors. This creates vitamin D which activates the genes that release dopamine. That’s good enough for me.
I think of the words of Thich Nhat Hanh: “You are a child of the sun, you come from the sun… and the earth is in you.”
Tomorrow is soon enough for the skies to be grey and rainy. Today I will read and sketch and make music and drink tea. Today is “hiring weather” and I want to hire whatever there is to hire. That includes several bright yellow bunches of daffodils out today, showcasing our yard.