Entry 801 – I Have A Theory . . .

And here I go again, trying to start numbering my entries.  I know it’s not gonna stick, but I can try.  Oh, well.  Lol.

Anyway.  Awhile ago, when Rob and I were in my car outside his house talking, (okay, I was ‘shrinking him,’ as he’s taken to calling it,  ::you know, psychoanalyzing?::) one thing that he mentioned was that he’d taken the SATs three times and the one he scored the highest on was the one he took when he had a seizure the same day.  (You ever notice that ‘seizure’ is one of those words that falls into the exception category of the I before E except after C thing?)  And while I’m sure he was being rhetorical, he basically said something along the lines of, "Now explain the logic of that one to me.  Why I’d score higher the day I have a seizure."

Well, I’m never one to take rhetorical questions as a clue to not try and answer them and I’ve been thinking about it since he said that.  I do believe I’ve come up with a failry sound theory for an answer.  (Well, fairly sound sounding to me, considering I’m not any kind of neurologist or what-have-you.  I mean, I’m a good psychologist, I think, but that can only take me so far.)  Still . . .  Oh, hell, I’ll just explain it.

Basically, imagine the human brain as a giant curcuit board, for one thing.  With wires and dials and all that other stuff plugged into it and electricity charging through it.  Our actual brains are pretty much like that.  We’ve got the wires that carry information or chemicals from one part of the brain to the other, "dials" of a sort that tell us how much pain we feel, or when something is too loud or soft, or too bright or dull, etc.  And of course, we have some measure of electricity, which helps all these things surging through our heads.

But what if the curcuit board started malfunctioning?  Or not even malfunctioning, just . . . something inside is saying ‘no, this isn’t the way it’s supposed to be set up.’  We’d have to rearrange the cables, turn the dials, possibly play with the flow of electrical current to see what was the matter/attempt to fix things.  And what if the brain’s way of doing that is by causing a seizure?  The brain more or less gets scrambled, (as I imagine an egg in a frying pan . . .  Lol.  "This is your brain.  This is your brain on seizures.") and when the person ‘comes to’ again, some things in the brain have been rearranged.

Honestly, I’m curious if this theory of mine has any relevancy or potential behind it.  Hmm . . .  I think I have to get my hands onsome books . . .

Lol.  And why am I figuring if Rob ever does read this, that he’s thinking, "Oh, no.  Not more books in her hands."