The puzzling thing about puzzles

A few weeks ago I talked about my evening practice of doing jigsaw puzzles to relax, as a pleasant alternative to surfing the Internet.

Last week my daughter moved home from college for the summer. It’s been several years since she and I last did puzzles together, and I’d forgotten how much she likes them.

So now each night we sit there, either side by side or across the table from each other, each quietly working on some little portion of the same jigsaw. Very little is said, but it’s still the same bonding time I’ve always cherished.

But I notice things I’d never thought of.

I always start a puzzle like I thought most people do: Pick out the flat edge pieces to build the outside frame, then work inward from there.

But she doesn’t. Once the box is opened and pieces dumped out, she starts sorting them by patterns and colors, and begins there. The edges don’t get her attention at all as she begins. She assembles like-pieces and gradually expands from there.

Why?

I mean, I’m a neurologist. Brains are my business. So why are our thought patterns on the same task so different?

I have no clue.

This is part of the mystery of the brain. Why different ones, although anatomically similar, can function so differently in how they approach and solve the same problem.

I can’t blame this on who she learned from. We’ve been doing puzzles together since she was little. Think about it – do you even remember someone teaching you to do jigsaw puzzles at some point? Neither do I. I assume a family member or schoolteacher showed me a basic one at some point, and how the pieces fit together, but that’s a guess.

So I sit there working on my section and watch her doing hers, and the neurologist turns the whole thing over. Does she have more neurons and/or glia in whatever the “puzzle solving” portion of her brain (I assume part of visual memory and spatial relationships) is? Or do I? Like so much of neurology this should have a structural answer – I think.

It reminds me of how little we still know. And it bugs me.

Has anyone done PET scans while people work on jigsaw puzzles? I checked PubMed and couldn’t find anything. I doubt it due to the logistics of having someone do one inside a scanner. Searching Google with the same question only gets me ads for customized jigsaws of pets.

So I made the leap to doing a jigsaw puzzle on an iPad while in a PET machine. But even then, how do I know I’d be testing the same functions? The touchscreen is similar, but not the same, as doing a real jigsaw. (In my opinion real puzzles are preferable to iPad ones, except when traveling).

At the end of the day it’s a mystery I don’t know the answer to, probably never will, and realistically shouldn’t think too much about.

Because this summer the real meaning of the puzzle isn’t the jigsaw itself. It’s the young woman sitting next to me working on it.

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

A few weeks ago I talked about my evening practice of doing jigsaw puzzles to relax, as a pleasant alternative to surfing the Internet.

Last week my daughter moved home from college for the summer. It’s been several years since she and I last did puzzles together, and I’d forgotten how much she likes them.

So now each night we sit there, either side by side or across the table from each other, each quietly working on some little portion of the same jigsaw. Very little is said, but it’s still the same bonding time I’ve always cherished.

But I notice things I’d never thought of.

I always start a puzzle like I thought most people do: Pick out the flat edge pieces to build the outside frame, then work inward from there.

But she doesn’t. Once the box is opened and pieces dumped out, she starts sorting them by patterns and colors, and begins there. The edges don’t get her attention at all as she begins. She assembles like-pieces and gradually expands from there.

Why?

I mean, I’m a neurologist. Brains are my business. So why are our thought patterns on the same task so different?

I have no clue.

This is part of the mystery of the brain. Why different ones, although anatomically similar, can function so differently in how they approach and solve the same problem.

I can’t blame this on who she learned from. We’ve been doing puzzles together since she was little. Think about it – do you even remember someone teaching you to do jigsaw puzzles at some point? Neither do I. I assume a family member or schoolteacher showed me a basic one at some point, and how the pieces fit together, but that’s a guess.

So I sit there working on my section and watch her doing hers, and the neurologist turns the whole thing over. Does she have more neurons and/or glia in whatever the “puzzle solving” portion of her brain (I assume part of visual memory and spatial relationships) is? Or do I? Like so much of neurology this should have a structural answer – I think.

It reminds me of how little we still know. And it bugs me.

Has anyone done PET scans while people work on jigsaw puzzles? I checked PubMed and couldn’t find anything. I doubt it due to the logistics of having someone do one inside a scanner. Searching Google with the same question only gets me ads for customized jigsaws of pets.

So I made the leap to doing a jigsaw puzzle on an iPad while in a PET machine. But even then, how do I know I’d be testing the same functions? The touchscreen is similar, but not the same, as doing a real jigsaw. (In my opinion real puzzles are preferable to iPad ones, except when traveling).

At the end of the day it’s a mystery I don’t know the answer to, probably never will, and realistically shouldn’t think too much about.

Because this summer the real meaning of the puzzle isn’t the jigsaw itself. It’s the young woman sitting next to me working on it.

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

A few weeks ago I talked about my evening practice of doing jigsaw puzzles to relax, as a pleasant alternative to surfing the Internet.

Last week my daughter moved home from college for the summer. It’s been several years since she and I last did puzzles together, and I’d forgotten how much she likes them.

So now each night we sit there, either side by side or across the table from each other, each quietly working on some little portion of the same jigsaw. Very little is said, but it’s still the same bonding time I’ve always cherished.

But I notice things I’d never thought of.

I always start a puzzle like I thought most people do: Pick out the flat edge pieces to build the outside frame, then work inward from there.

But she doesn’t. Once the box is opened and pieces dumped out, she starts sorting them by patterns and colors, and begins there. The edges don’t get her attention at all as she begins. She assembles like-pieces and gradually expands from there.

Why?

I mean, I’m a neurologist. Brains are my business. So why are our thought patterns on the same task so different?

I have no clue.

This is part of the mystery of the brain. Why different ones, although anatomically similar, can function so differently in how they approach and solve the same problem.

I can’t blame this on who she learned from. We’ve been doing puzzles together since she was little. Think about it – do you even remember someone teaching you to do jigsaw puzzles at some point? Neither do I. I assume a family member or schoolteacher showed me a basic one at some point, and how the pieces fit together, but that’s a guess.

So I sit there working on my section and watch her doing hers, and the neurologist turns the whole thing over. Does she have more neurons and/or glia in whatever the “puzzle solving” portion of her brain (I assume part of visual memory and spatial relationships) is? Or do I? Like so much of neurology this should have a structural answer – I think.

It reminds me of how little we still know. And it bugs me.

Has anyone done PET scans while people work on jigsaw puzzles? I checked PubMed and couldn’t find anything. I doubt it due to the logistics of having someone do one inside a scanner. Searching Google with the same question only gets me ads for customized jigsaws of pets.

So I made the leap to doing a jigsaw puzzle on an iPad while in a PET machine. But even then, how do I know I’d be testing the same functions? The touchscreen is similar, but not the same, as doing a real jigsaw. (In my opinion real puzzles are preferable to iPad ones, except when traveling).

At the end of the day it’s a mystery I don’t know the answer to, probably never will, and realistically shouldn’t think too much about.

Because this summer the real meaning of the puzzle isn’t the jigsaw itself. It’s the young woman sitting next to me working on it.

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