Blog #3: The Pain Train

Wednesday we talked quite a bit about the neuroscientific aspects of perception.  We talked about pathways: pain pathways, sensory pathways, reflexive pathways, and the like.  Most interesting to me was the talk of pain pathways.  Pain, to a hedonist, is the negative half of the human experience.  Some philosophies say pain is merely the absence of pleasure.  Some philosophies say pleasure is merely the absence of pain.  So I had to wonder how much of what we can globally call “pain,” is actually measured in the body.

It’s clearly more than just the result of physical trauma, like cuts and scratches.  The same pain pathways are what lead us to turn over in our sleep, preventing bedsores.  Furthermore, pain pathways are activated in situations of illness.  So I have to wonder if the idea that “the pain pathway is what keeps us from touching a hot stove,” idea is completely accurate.  When our hands jerk away from a hot stove, or an electric shock, or dry ice, that’s the reflexive pathway in action.  And so I wonder if congenital indifference to pain affects the reflexive pathway.  If so, then those people are really in an unfathomable amount of trouble for keeping their bodies safe and healthy.  If not, then they can truly attest to the remarkability of the reflexive pathway.

My second musing was one of whether or not the pain pathway is activated in situations of depression.  Anyone who suffers from depression can describe the feeling as “pain,” and studies have long confirmed that it is indeed a physiological condition with a chemical treatment option.  What effects to antidepressants have upon the pain pathways?  And if none, should the English language introduce a more pointed, analytical distinction between physical pain and emotional pain?

Blog #2

This week we talked about many different introductory concepts of psychology  and the study of how the mind works.  We went over some of the schools of thought–the psychological, biological, and theoretical approaches, specifically.  I’ve had some introduction to psychological studies in high school and in a few courses here at Vandy, but most of my experience to this point has been in the biological field of neuroscience.

When people asked me what neuroscience was and why I was studying it, and I told them that it was pretty much the biology of psychology.  But that’s not quite it–it seems like neuroscience has grown into its own science–and it seems to maintain the momentum as a growing science.

Admittedly, it’s been a bit odd readjusting to a more psychological, behavioral, experimental, theoretical approach to the workings of the mind, and it may take some getting used to.  However, it will be good to take a step back from the microscopic and view the way people interact.  It seems like the real-life applications of psych will be more prominent in this class.  And it doesn’t seem to deny the biological–a look at the different brain scans was just the introduction here.

All in all, I’m excited about this class.

Superpowers.

When I was little, I read a lot. I would power through chapter books like a cocker spaniel in a baloney spill. I got especially into the “Animorphs” series, in which five unsuspecting teens find themselves with the power to morph into any animal, given that they could attain the animal’s DNA through touch beforehand. They use this power to defeat the parasitic Yeerk aliens, who could be controlling the brains of anyone, making their normal lives as teens struggling with hormones all the more challenging. The books were fascinating because they are told in first person, with the accounts of life through the eyes (and ears, noses, etc.) of different animals. When I wasn’t sitting around reading these books, I was laying around thinking about what animal I wish I could turn into. It is from all this sitting that I became a very chubby little boy, but that’s neither here nor there. My point is, I’ve been thinking about this question for over a decade.

If I could obtain the sensory system of any animal, similar to the powers of the Animorphs, I think I would probably pick up infrared sensors, like those in the pits of pit vipers. I tried to think about this in terms of things I might need, but this was unfruitful, as we’re pretty well specialized for our own needs. So I think I would go for IR sensors, because I could see what people were doing behind closed doors and walls. Don’t mistake me for a voyeurist; I’m not interested in watching infrared blobs mash against one another. I think it would be more useful for little things. For instance, I live on the third floor of Towers, and sometimes I take the elevator to the second floor lobby. The problem comes if someone is on that elevator, because then when they stop one single floor before the lobby to transport a bum down a single flight of steps, the person in the elevator looks at me with contempt. If I could look up and see an infrared blob in the elevator before the elevator doors opened, I could just run away before the door opened and wait for the next one, sparing me the glares of the elevator-riders. Also, I would know if someone was in a bathroom without knocking, and could see people in the dark if they were sneaking up on me to kill me. I would also be much tougher to blindfold effectively.