My Son Gave His Brain to Science…Literally!

On Friday my 8yo son had the opportunity to participate as a control subject in a research study by the Division of Pediatric Neurology and The Children’s Learning Institute at the University of Texas.  Located downtown at Houston’s world-famous Medical Center complex, we both thought the day-long series of tests, scans, and an MRI would be intriguing.  We knew we’d walk away with an idea of his verbal/non-verbal IQ, as well as really cool images and maps of his brain.  Not to mention…he’d get paid (and a pretty nice sum!).  We were both very excited.

The day started with a computer test called TOVA (Test of Variables of Attention), which measures attention.  The task seems easy enough:  only click the button if the dark box appears on the upper half of the light box.  If the dark box appears on the bottom portion of the light box, don’t click.  Only…the boxes flash in rapid succession, and it can be very disorienting.  I couldn’t watch for very long at all, because I found myself getting too anxious.  The main object of the test is to actually bore the heck out of you, so you lose focus and begin to answer incorrectly.  After a while (the test last about 20 minutes), my son did in fact get quite bored, leaning farther and farther away from the screen, watching with only one eye sometimes, and frequently exhaling loudly.  In a way, it was kind of funny!  The end results showed that he scored in a “normal” or typical range for kids his age and did not show signs of ADHD.

Next my son took a series of three verbal tests  and three non-verbal tests; all used pictures and were aimed at testing his understanding of analogies, sequencing, and grouping.  I wish I could find a picture online to explain better, but just imagine the computer shows you a picture of a hand, then a picture of a glove, says “this is to that as…” then it shows you a foot and says “this is to…” then gives you a choice of a hat, a pair of glasses, a sock, and a ring.  Of course we’re hoping my son picks the sock.  Anyway, that’s how it went for a while.  The sequencing and grouping tests are much harder to explain, but I can tell you this:  I was *SO* impressed with my son’s composure.  The testing got progressively harder, and even I was stumped on a few.  I was able to sit in the back of the room and observe, but I could not speak or make any noise.  I saw him struggle with some answers, but more often than not, I could see him puzzling out the answer and giving it his best.

Since these tests measure IQ, the researcher was able to give me a general idea of my sons verbal and nonverbal levels.  For verbal, average is 90-110; my son scored a 121.  For non-verbal, average is 100; my son scored a 130.  The researcher said my son’s IQ was very impressive and truly something to be proud of.  And I am!

After a brief series of reading fluidity and comprehension tests (we haven’t gotten the scores back on those), my son headed to what they call a MEG scan.  A MEG scan measures the magnetic activity of the neurons in your brain while you’re given short tasks to do, like reading words or doing simple math.  Unfortunately, the nature of the scanner itself gave my son some difficulty.  If you look at the picture on the left, imagine my son having to lay flat on the bed while the scanner helmet was lowered over his head, and at the same time he has to watch the screen above him and work out the tasks given by the computer.  Because of the sensitivity of the scanner, if he moved his head or chin just a fraction of an inch, the test would need to restart.  It became quite a frustrating endeavor, and at one point the researcher noticed a little tear running down my son’s cheek, and we had to take a break.  My son insisted that he couldn’t finish – he was hungry, bored, tired.  He was just done.  I walked the halls with him for a bit, gave him a snack I had stashed in my purse, and to my utter amazement, my son pulled it together and went in for one more HOUR.  He was such a trooper!

We took a nice lunch break, then finished the day with a standard MRI.  Well, maybe not standard.  The operator was incredibly patient with my son, but what do they expect when they give an 8yo an “escape” button and tell him to press it whenever he wants to stop?!  My son in fact stopped the show TWICE – once because he was getting really hot, and another time because the whole machine was just too incredibly loud for him.  I wondered about that when I could hear the humming and buzzing even down the hall in the waiting room.  It was a hard way to end a very long day, but again – my son was a trooper and got it done.

All in all, it was a great experience, and inspiring to be involved in research that will eventually help children with learning and developmental disabilities.  It was also a fabulous opportunity to watch my son as he worked through (and struggled through) some things totally independent of my help.  What a grown boy he is, and what a smartie, too!

You might also enjoy these related posts from Tree, Root, and Twig:

1. Brain Drain
2. Overcoming Summertime Boredom and "Brain Drain" {Spotlight}
3. Farewell, Little Brain Cell

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