You know when you get a fit of the giggles and can’t stop laughing and how awkward that is? Well, imagine that when trying to move a virtual bowling ball down its virtual lane . . . Or worse flying a biplane with brainwaves that don’t want to co-operate so that the electric guitar in the audio goes boop . . . boop . . . boop as the biplane stops and starts, making the giggles you’re desperately trying to suppress burst out into raucous laughter that brings your trainer hurriedly to the mouse to point, click, stop the feedback screen.
She got me serious and restarted by asking me what my favourite colour is. I actually don’t know. I did before my brain injury. Everyone knew my favourite colours. But after the injury, my preferences began to change. And change again. And now I’m not sure.
That sobered me up.
I had bad bradycardia this week, down to 37 beats per minute, this after I had been congratulating myself on how strong my heart felt, no choking feelings or double back flips in my chest. Sigh. But my overall heart rate is dropping. I know, I know. Every time I think this, write it, it goes back up. But fingers crossed, it’s for real that my heart rate is now close to 100, no longer in the 120s or 130.
My last brain biofeedback screen is three sailboats in a race, each in their own neon-coloured virtual lane. My trainer admitted this week that she hates that screen too. But I have to use it cause, well, she’s the boss. Hah! Anyway, my sailboat representing the 13-16Hz brainwaves we want to enhance usually beats the wandering mind and negative thoughts boats.
Not today.
The busy-brain boat zipped out of its dock and almost reached the end of the lane. It’s rare for any of the boats to do that with me — that boat’s not supposed to move or only a little bit because I’m supposed to be inhibiting it. Meanwhile, the delta-theta boat kept trying to sneak past me (me being 13-16)Hz.
Near the end of the three minutes of training, I almost lost to both boats but I got back ahead of delta-theta by a whisker. So not a total ignominious defeat. I’ve never lost before. Makes one pause.
In the end, probably because of that laughter, which I totally blame my trainer for, with her hilarity in our opening conversation, I left feeling good. Good!
