neuroscientist Steven Pinker likens to “a large sheet of two-dimensional tissue that has been wadded up to fit inside the spherical skull,” has been riddled with tiny perforations.
My cerebral cortex, the gray matter that M.I.T. A decade later, my cane and odd gait are the most visible evidence of damage. I had a memory and an intuition that I could trust.Īll that changed on December 7, 1988, when I contracted a virus that targeted my brain. There were no problems with numbers or abstract reasoning I could find the right word, could hold a thought in mind, match faces with names, converse coherently in crowded hallways, learn new tasks. My brain’s circuits were all connected and I had spark, a quickness of mind that let me function well in the world.
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