I've been thinking about Flowers for Algeron lately. I loved that book, and I think I love similar stories, although at the moment I can't think of any. Other than The Dead Zone, which is probably my favorite Stephen King book -- guy gets in a car accident, wakes up after a few years able to predict the future. Cool beans.
Oh! Limitless., with Bradley Cooper and DeNiro. I really enjoyed that one. Pharmacological intelligence boost, interesting.
Charlie Gordon in "Algeron" had the same, got his measly 68 IQ ramped over 185. The book is written as Charlie's journal, from just post-surgery on his brain to the very end, which he's back where he started. It's not a happy ending and the author had some trouble getting the novel published for that reason.
He first wrote it as a short story in 1958, the year I was born. I just found that out. I am a Wikipedia donor.
I don't remember some details. but Charlie documents his increase in intelligence as well as the trip back down. There are a couple of scenes I remember well.
So yeah. I've wondered exactly what I've been documenting here. There's always been a Symptoms-of-the-Moment feel to this process. I have very restless legs and awful spasms and cramps that happen at night for nights on end, and then I calm down for a while. I have no idea, but I wouldn't be surprised if my thinking got clearer on its own. It's just now I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't.
Thought of another. "Lucy," a 2014 film with Scarlett Johansson, who has a bag of drugs in her tummy that breaks and takes Mr. Brain Power up to 100%. It's a wild film but a short one. Really makes no sense but anyway, love this stuff.
The ones where someone documents a slow descent into death/madness is an actual trope, in real life as well as fiction. I have to say there's a romance to it, the withering away of what was once vital, yadda yadda yadda. But even I can't get into that.
Again, this might be something minor that doesn't progress, and eventually is compensated by this wonderful plasticity we know the brain is capable of. I see that distinctly, whew and moving on.
I'm whistling past the graveyard here, that's what I'm doing. It's not like I usually write about my clever moments, the times when I solve a problem or figure something out. Those still happen and I'm still happy about it.
So maybe it sounds worse than it is. Maybe it seems that way to me. I ask people all the time now what they see or hear or read from me -- do I make sense? Do I miss things? Am I still appropriate? I don't FEEL appropriate, I feel like all the guardrails are off and I just blather.
And they're all reassuring. Even so, I can't be glib and say that I'm probably overreacting to just normal senior moments. There's too much correlation. Like my SpO2 going in the tank for a couple of weeks as this suddenly got worse. Probably just gettn' old, ma.
I guess the good news for readers is that I'm too proud to post anything with all the mistakes, typos, dropped words or thoughts that happen when I write now. I can generally get something that reads OK with some patience. I really am an old hand at communicating this way, even though now I dictate a lot.
In fact, today I had to call a plumber and I thought, nope, that's the last phone call like that. Maybe the last phone call, I have options. Video chats are much better somehow; if I can see a face I follow threads better. The stress was enormous today just from this simple act, and I'm pretty sure I sounded like an idiot.
This will never be a saga of deterioration, though. I love the idea of writing and talking about the various weird things happening to our bodies as we reach this age and beyond. Lot of funny material in that, plus some philosophy. I can see writing about that a lot. Or cartooning, who knows? But not with the slowly diminishing capacity stories. I think I can spare everyone.
Maybe not today. Today I went to the drugstore to get something, around the corner. When I was paying up front, I pulled my card out of my clip, placed the clip on the counter, inserted the card, paid for my purchase, and then asked the cashier to help me find my clip. Things disappear on me like that. Right in front but suddenly they don't look right.
I really wanted to explain everything, but I could tell by his look that he'd already moved on in his head to his next task. Just another bewildered old guy, they're a dime a dozen, nothing to see here.