you know …
you are obsessed with neuro science when you stare at your bed ridden grand dad wondering the precise activities that’s struggling in his brain. and when your relatives crowd near him upon the denouncement of the death of his brain, crying and moaning the things they wish they told during his healthy times, you pinch yourself to resist the urge of correcting “fuck it dumb asses, his brain is dead, in other words the auditory junction located left of the frontal lobe is dead, he can’t hear you!”
soon later, you retreat the ICU in heavy footsteps to get a cup of warm milo in prevention of undesired pantomime from stirring. and on the way to the vending machine, you start to wonder again, how differently shaped is my agmydala from the usual? deeply obsessed with your own thoughts, you accidentally scald hand with piping milo. finally, instead of exclaiming “fuck this!”, you immediately shout “fuck my cortical homunculus!”
that’s what happened when i visited my then nearly dying grandfather today. it’s evident oliver sacks and ramanchadran have quite an impact on me.