Puzzles

Doctors love puzzles, they say. Especially neurologists.

The detective work on a case is part of the job’s appeal. Taking clues from the history, exam, and tests to formulate a diagnosis, then a treatment plan.

But I’m not talking about that.

As I’ve written before, I’ve tried hard to divorce myself from the news. In times where the world seems to have gone mad, I just don’t want to know what’s going on. I focus on my family, my job, and the weather forecast.

But, inevitably, I need something to do. At some point I run out of notes to type, tests to review, emails to answer, and bills to pay. I used to read the news, but now I don’t do that anymore. I even avoid my favorite satire sites, like Onion and Beaverton, because they just reflect the real news (I still read the Weekly World News, which has no relationship to reality, or pretty much anything, whatsoever).

So now, when I’m done with the day’s work, I shut down the computer (which isn’t easy after 25 years of habitual surfing) and sit down with a jigsaw puzzle. I haven’t done that since I was a resident.

It usually takes me 2-3 weeks to do one (500-1,000 pieces) in the 30 minutes or so I spend on it each evening. There’s solace in the quiet, methodical process of carefully looking for matching pieces, trying a few, the brief glee at getting a fit, and then moving to the next piece.

I know I can do this on my iPad, but it’s different with real pieces. Lifting up a piece and examining it for matching shapes and colors, sorting through the tray, wondering if I made a mistake somewhere. The cardboard doesn’t light up to let me know I got it right.

Inevitably, the mind wanders as I work on them. Sometimes back to a puzzle at the office, sometimes to my doing the same puzzle (I’ve had them for a while) at my parents’ house in my teens, sometimes to my kids away at college, or a book I once read.

But that’s the point. It’s almost a form of meditation. Focusing on each piece as my mind moves in other directions. It’s actually more relaxing than I thought, and a welcome escape from the day.

And, like other seemingly unrelated tasks (such as Leo Szilard waiting for a traffic light to change, albeit on a lesser scale), sometimes it brings me an answer I’ve been searching for. A light bulb will go on for a patient case I’ve been turning over for a few days. When that happens I grab my phone and email the thought to myself at work.

It puts my mind in neutral at the end of the day. When I finally go to bed I’m less focused on things that can keep me awake at night.

Though occasionally I do dream of puzzles.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

Doctors love puzzles, they say. Especially neurologists.

The detective work on a case is part of the job’s appeal. Taking clues from the history, exam, and tests to formulate a diagnosis, then a treatment plan.

But I’m not talking about that.

As I’ve written before, I’ve tried hard to divorce myself from the news. In times where the world seems to have gone mad, I just don’t want to know what’s going on. I focus on my family, my job, and the weather forecast.

But, inevitably, I need something to do. At some point I run out of notes to type, tests to review, emails to answer, and bills to pay. I used to read the news, but now I don’t do that anymore. I even avoid my favorite satire sites, like Onion and Beaverton, because they just reflect the real news (I still read the Weekly World News, which has no relationship to reality, or pretty much anything, whatsoever).

So now, when I’m done with the day’s work, I shut down the computer (which isn’t easy after 25 years of habitual surfing) and sit down with a jigsaw puzzle. I haven’t done that since I was a resident.

It usually takes me 2-3 weeks to do one (500-1,000 pieces) in the 30 minutes or so I spend on it each evening. There’s solace in the quiet, methodical process of carefully looking for matching pieces, trying a few, the brief glee at getting a fit, and then moving to the next piece.

I know I can do this on my iPad, but it’s different with real pieces. Lifting up a piece and examining it for matching shapes and colors, sorting through the tray, wondering if I made a mistake somewhere. The cardboard doesn’t light up to let me know I got it right.

Inevitably, the mind wanders as I work on them. Sometimes back to a puzzle at the office, sometimes to my doing the same puzzle (I’ve had them for a while) at my parents’ house in my teens, sometimes to my kids away at college, or a book I once read.

But that’s the point. It’s almost a form of meditation. Focusing on each piece as my mind moves in other directions. It’s actually more relaxing than I thought, and a welcome escape from the day.

And, like other seemingly unrelated tasks (such as Leo Szilard waiting for a traffic light to change, albeit on a lesser scale), sometimes it brings me an answer I’ve been searching for. A light bulb will go on for a patient case I’ve been turning over for a few days. When that happens I grab my phone and email the thought to myself at work.

It puts my mind in neutral at the end of the day. When I finally go to bed I’m less focused on things that can keep me awake at night.

Though occasionally I do dream of puzzles.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.

Doctors love puzzles, they say. Especially neurologists.

The detective work on a case is part of the job’s appeal. Taking clues from the history, exam, and tests to formulate a diagnosis, then a treatment plan.

But I’m not talking about that.

As I’ve written before, I’ve tried hard to divorce myself from the news. In times where the world seems to have gone mad, I just don’t want to know what’s going on. I focus on my family, my job, and the weather forecast.

But, inevitably, I need something to do. At some point I run out of notes to type, tests to review, emails to answer, and bills to pay. I used to read the news, but now I don’t do that anymore. I even avoid my favorite satire sites, like Onion and Beaverton, because they just reflect the real news (I still read the Weekly World News, which has no relationship to reality, or pretty much anything, whatsoever).

So now, when I’m done with the day’s work, I shut down the computer (which isn’t easy after 25 years of habitual surfing) and sit down with a jigsaw puzzle. I haven’t done that since I was a resident.

It usually takes me 2-3 weeks to do one (500-1,000 pieces) in the 30 minutes or so I spend on it each evening. There’s solace in the quiet, methodical process of carefully looking for matching pieces, trying a few, the brief glee at getting a fit, and then moving to the next piece.

I know I can do this on my iPad, but it’s different with real pieces. Lifting up a piece and examining it for matching shapes and colors, sorting through the tray, wondering if I made a mistake somewhere. The cardboard doesn’t light up to let me know I got it right.

Inevitably, the mind wanders as I work on them. Sometimes back to a puzzle at the office, sometimes to my doing the same puzzle (I’ve had them for a while) at my parents’ house in my teens, sometimes to my kids away at college, or a book I once read.

But that’s the point. It’s almost a form of meditation. Focusing on each piece as my mind moves in other directions. It’s actually more relaxing than I thought, and a welcome escape from the day.

And, like other seemingly unrelated tasks (such as Leo Szilard waiting for a traffic light to change, albeit on a lesser scale), sometimes it brings me an answer I’ve been searching for. A light bulb will go on for a patient case I’ve been turning over for a few days. When that happens I grab my phone and email the thought to myself at work.

It puts my mind in neutral at the end of the day. When I finally go to bed I’m less focused on things that can keep me awake at night.

Though occasionally I do dream of puzzles.

Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.