30 Jun 2008 | Immobilize
I had the strangest, most disconcerting dream a short while ago. I was ensconced on my recliner, sleeping in a rather uncomfortable position, and I had one of those dreams where I dreamed I was awake… or rather, waking up. Waking up from the recliner, trying to raise my head… and then finding that I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. Oddly enough, that situation was exactly like this rare and unexplained condition that I had heard about on Radio Lab a few months ago. So I opened my eyes (still dreaming), tried to get up, and found that my limbs simply weren’t listening to me. My mind was in a panic. Move, I entreated my fingers, my arms, my legs. For some reason, I also couldn’t speak.* A strange black-and-white bird was perched on my elbow, tugging at my sleeve with its beak. Get up, get up, it said. I couldn’t. Gradually, though, as my mind wandered through the possibilities in that distorted daydream, I recalled that Radio Lab program… I fixed my eyes on my hands, and concentrated on the thought of moving them…
As it turns out, that particular Radio Lab program described a man from the UK, Ian Waterman, who had completely lost his sense of touch… or rather, the “sixth sense” that makes a body aware of itself, called proprioception. Involved scientific explanation aside, proprioception is what allows people to move their limbs without consciously thinking about it. Waterman had woken up one morning with the complete loss of sensation — proprioception — in his body from the neck down. Incredibly, during the course of the next twelve years, he found a way to move again, in the manner I described — he had to look at whatever part of himself he wanted to move in order to move it, and he had to keep himself perfectly focused on it. Distractions were dangerous; if he took his mind off standing or walking for one moment, he would fall to the ground. Same with darkness; since being in the dark would cause him to lose his visual feedback, for twelve years, he has never once turned off the lights in his house.
It sort of gives new meaning to one’s sense of self, doesn’t it?
When I woke up for real and found myself on the recliner, I immediately made for the kitchen and crammed several gigantic handfuls of Strawberry Chex cereal down my throat… to calm myself… to assure myself that I could still move. Then I came here to the library.
You should really listen to this. Here’s the link. Scroll down to “The Butcher’s Assistant.” There’s an embedded audio clip there where you can listen to that segment. If you’d like to listen to the entire episode (which I recommend — it’s an excellent program), that particular segment starts at 27:07 into the show.
* That bird wouldn’t quit pecking at me, so I opened my mouth to tell it to lay off, except no sound came out… I finally managed a weak whisper after I realized I had to mentally form the words I wanted to say in my mind first… like one reading silently to oneself. It was bizarre.
