Down, But Not Out.

I was thoroughly intrigued by The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat, to say the very least. Never in my life have I ever considered that recognition was such a process or that it was possible to lose that ability. I still cannot fathom looking at a hat and not knowing what it is, or seeing a person -- especially a loved one -- and not really knowing that it is a person at all. Perhaps what is most intriguing was that Dr. P was still very adept with music and actually became unable to function completely without finding the rhythm and music to whatever he was doing. I think too often people assume that one disability means that you are a disabled person, which is not necessarily true. To have a disability is not to be disabled, merely to have a setback of sorts, be it extreme or bearable. It is especially important to consider the good things that come out of a disability -- just because one thing has quit working properly, doesn't mean something might not work better now, as we see when Sacks views Dr. P's paintings. We will never know whether it was a stroke of artistic genius or simply the progression of his prosopagnosia that caused the change from natural to abstract, but at any rate, does it matter?

Another case in which we see a benefit arising from the sickness is that of Witty, Ticcy Ray. Ray, though he recognized that something was severely wrong, was unable to enjoy life and function without his Tourette’s. The idea that medicine meant to make something better actually makes one’s quality of life worse is unthinkable for most. To accept and appreciate a disease as not only part of life but a good part of oneself is very unusual. Upon reading Ray’s case, I am brought back to the patients on the L-Dopa regime from Awakenings. It is curious to me that most of those patients, even after having had one bad experience with L-Dopa, were eager to retry the drug, while Ray was very hesitant to have such control over his disease. I have only had the opportunity to interact with three people with Tourette’s, but with all three there was always a sort of reluctant acceptance – they understand that this is what they must live with, and do their best to make it better. However, every single one of them expressed to me that there is not a day gone by that they did not wish to be “normal”. This is the reaction I would expect out of most people with any disease, but especially with one so blatantly obvious as Tourette’s. Even more curious is the fact that two out of three of those patients had much, much milder forms of Tourette's Syndrome than Ray's -- is it simply difference in personality that make them see their diseases so differently?

The way Ray embraced his disease and indeed could not live properly without it was, in a way, refreshing. I’m not sure if it’s better to know and love your disease or to not know it at all, as with Mr. Thompson, who has a severe case of Korsakov’s Disease but does not feel the impact. This, to me, was the most heart-wrenching of the cases. I am also forced to wonder whether it is better for people to understand that one is sick, and still be able to enjoy it, as with Ray, or for them to think you are simply a funny person who simply seems to be constantly going. In keeping with the idea that not all disabilities are disabling, I have to ask whether or not Mr. Thompson’s problem was wholly a problem at all – clearly, it is debilitating in the fact that he cannot recognize anyone and so must constantly form an identity for them, but the very idea that his brain can so quickly fabricate a person, even an entire past, is utterly awesome. Seeing what qualities these diseases amplify or bring about in a person is just as interesting in studying the disease itself. Physically, these diseases are terrible, but at the same time, they are wonderful expressions of the true power of the brain. I am left contemplating what the word ‘acute’ really means in reference to these cases.