“Well now, if you really want to understand what’s happening inside my head, we need to start with the basics — the neurons.
A neuron is one of the millions of little messengers living in my brain. Think of them as chatty roommates who never stop talking. They use tiny sparks of electricity and chemical sprinkles to send messages like, ‘Blink,’ ‘Swallow,’ ‘Remember your daughter’s name,’ or ‘Don’t put your shoe in the refrigerator.’
Each neuron has a job to do:
- The dendrites are like little ears, always listening for gossip from other neurons.
- The cell body (that’s their “thinking chair”) sorts through the information and decides what to do with it.
- The axon is the long hallway they shout down to pass the message along to the next room.
But here’s the funny part — neurons don’t actually touch. They leave a polite little gap called a synapse. So instead of bumping elbows, they whisper across the space with something called neurotransmitters — tiny chemical notes that say, “Psst… move your hand,” or “Hey, that smells like cookies.”
When all the neurons are healthy, the messages zip along fast and clear. It’s like a cheerful neighborhood of porch lights, everyone waving and saying hello. But when dementia shows up, it’s like someone cuts the power lines, and those messages start sputtering, fading, or getting lost on the way.
So if you ever wonder why I forget, pause, or seem unsure — it’s not because I’m not trying. It’s because some of my little messengers got tangled in the hallway, and the message never made it through.
I’m still in here — it just takes my neurons a little longer to find the right words.”
Week 1 of the “Me With Dementia” series on LivingWithLewy.net