Algernon And The Microlesion Effect
Marking 4 Years of Deep Brain Stimulation
I once read a story about a mouse whose name was Algernon. He along with his friend Charlie became very smart until they weren’t. You may have heard of Algernon if you are of a certain age. His sad short story was on the suggested reading list for mid-20th century American high school students until it was banned and somewhat forgotten in 21st century classrooms.
I have never understood the attempts to ban books by those who claim knowledge of an absolute truth. They reveal a secret doubt when they would rather burn Huck Finn’s raft or kill a few mockingbirds than prove their point through reasoned debate.
Anyhoo, I don’t recall exactly how my eleven year old self ended up reading Flowers For Algernon by Daniel Keyes. I probably found it in one of my sister’s anthologies. I still remember the profound sadness that I felt upon finishing the story about an average lab mouse and a mentally challenged boy who were given a drug that made them smarter . . . temporarily. I realized at an early age how horrible it must be to know that you are losing your mental abilities. The story stayed with me and comes to mind whenever I encounter someone suffering from dementia or Alzheimer’s or even Parkinson’s. We all have our Algernon moments whenever our ability to move or have a moment of clarity fluctuates.
Around this time four years ago, my doctors and I were midway through the three week process of inserting and programming the electrodes that would facilitate the deep brain stimulation necessary to knock some of the Parkinson’s rust from my brain. By this time, I had dealt with Parkinson’s for 14 years and I was taking more medications than my body could process just so that I could move. It was time for DBS.
Knowing that Parkinson’s is the mean step-daddy of delayed gratification (just ask any person with Parkinson’s who has waited around for their medication to work), I was surprised to experience a vast alleviation of my symptoms immediately after the implant surgery was finished. I was even more surprised that this improvement happened before the battery was turned on. At first I thought that it was some kind of placebo effect. It wasn’t a placebo because I really could move like a normal person. It was as if I had never had Parkinson’s. Then after 4 days, I felt my newly returned skills start slipping away as Parkinson’s crept back in.
Was my experience a miracle failed by a lack of faith? Or was it a temporary window created to glimpse God’s grace? Or to raise questions about the intersection of mind and brain? Should I stop asking questions and accept it as the Algernon effect - an acceptance that all improvements are temporary (even the scientific ones) and that everything ultimately degrades into a permanent death?
I later found out that what I had experienced on a physical level was called the microlesion effect. Apparently, the intensity of this effect predicts how well DBS will work in the long run and mine was intense. If the effect had been mild then the placement of the electrodes would not have been optimal.
The microlesion effect occurs from the act of inserting the electrodes into the physical brain tissue. It does not occur from the electrical stimulation that comes after the battery is turned on. More importantly, the ongoing electrical stimulation does not further damage the brain as was recently reported in Nature.
DBS does not stop the progression of Parkinson’s; it merely masques the symptoms. As the symptoms progress, the electrical current can be adjusted up to a point until the symptoms overwhelm the DBS system. Each adjustment proves the Algernon effect.
I have not yet determined what I experienced on a metaphysical level. I lean toward the microlesion effect being a glimpse of God’s grace. I will let my above questions to simmer until ready to be served up in a future article.
I never regained the intense normalcy that I experienced from the microlesion effect. However, the predicative aspect of the effect proved accurate as I have had great success in the four years since the surgery. For their initial surgical skill and continuing care, I extend my heartfelt thanks to Dr. E, Dr. H, and especially Dr. W.
Isn’t it strange how a little brain damage can be a good thing? I may put that on a T-shirt.
Very touched by your description of that moment when the old (young) ease of movement came back you. The grace with which you have accepted that was just for that moment is inspirational. I groaned when I read that - let alone lived it. Stoned so better stop now