How does one express that calcium waves, to me, are what earthquakes might be to you?

‘’Mostré mi obra maestra a las personas mayores y les pregunté si mi dibujo les daba miedo.
Me contestaron: "Por qué un sombrero podría dar miedo?"
Mi dibujo no representaba un sombrero. Representaba una serpiente boa que digería un elefante. Dibujé entonces el interior de la serpiente boa, para que las personas mayores pudieran comprender. Siempre necesitan explicaciones.”
- The Little Prince 1
The Little Prince says this in the opening chapter of my father’s favorite book. This is translated to:
"I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups and asked them whether the drawing frightened them.
But they answered: "Frighten? Why should anyone be frightened by a hat?"
My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since the grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of a boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it clearly. They always need to have things explained."
I am an extremely emotional person, much like my father. It is difficult to convey this sometimes, when dull and somewhat lackluster artefacts such as astrocytes or proteins make my eyes well up with tears or make the vesicles of my heart contract at an abnormal speed. To put it plainly, I am overdramatic. So how does one express that calcium waves, to me, are what earthquakes might be to you?
Firstly, I think I should explain what my project is about as that might explain the incoming waves of emotion that it produces in me. My project is about the effect of α-synuclein aggregates on astrocyte calcium signaling in neurodegeneration, more precisely in Parkinson’s. Parkinson’s itself is a disease that is a huge emotional burden for those who it affects - but what I would like to focus on are astrocytes and their calcium waves.
An astrocyte is a type of glial cell, the word glia means ‘glue’ in Greek (just that association to me is beautiful, but anyway). Glial cells support neurons and their functioning through doing what my father would describe as ‘the boring work’ such as scaffolding, modulating how neuronal signals are fired, or the ionic balance of neurons. 2 A common misunderstanding is that all our great matter is neurons, when in fact they only amount to 25% of your brain, the remaining 75% are exquisite unrecognized works of art that have a full-time job of doing ‘the boring work’. Let’s say that these graceful cells are like foot soldiers defending a medieval castle. They are the first line of response to any immediate danger; they fight off any foreign invading soldier (also known as microorganisms and neoplastic cells)3 to protect the kings and queens inside the castle. But what scares and humbles me, is that we actually do not know much about my favorite soldiers, the astrocytes. There is so much unknown and underappreciated in our brain, our treasured castle. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is that I feel like the little prince when I show my masterpiece of the little knowledge I am collecting. I’m simply not drawing a hat – it is so much more soul-stirring than that.
I think this is an appropriate time to show you a video of the beauty behind my words.
I hope that made you feel something. It need not be tears but maybe curiosity? Confusion? Captivation? Now I can explain what is happening. The little movements you see, what I describe as earthquakes, are astrocytic calcium waves. Every minute movement carries a signal to its adjacent structure, almost like an ocean wave that carries masses of force to create ripples. Without these ripples your brain would cease to function. Everything would stop, there would be no castle, no soldiers, and no time to even process the beauty of what has been lost.
I would like to reiterate that these waves are not fully understood, a fact that is daunting yet magnetic to me. So, I will explain this with another analogy. Imagine you have a jigsaw puzzle with 2000 pieces, but they are all black. The only way the image in the puzzle will be revealed is if you place the correct adjacent piece. That’s what my research has felt for me. It was impossible to decipher the nature of these calcium waves unless I had the correct adjacent piece. I had to become accustomed to starting from scratch, accepting spontaneity, I had to learn that it was okay if a huge computer took one hour to conduct what in my naïve mind was a five-minute task. However, I found my first adjacent piece and I began to observe a fragment of the picture. The more I observed these earthquakes, the more enthralled I became with the idea of what they were capable of doing.
I began to understand the implications of my puzzle. Calcium waves control blood vessel diameter to allow enough blood to reach neurons to propagate signals. They allow for gene expression to be enhanced or diminished.4 How can an objectively small wave help decide the small building blocks of your proteins to have the potential of changing an observable trait such as height, the color of your eyes and more importantly the presence (or lack thereof) of a disease?
This puzzle is far from simple. As you start to construct a picture, you take a step back and realize that a piece just doesn’t quite fit right. The picture vanishes before your eyes. Conjectures about the significance of this puzzle are many. Another layer of complexity is added. How does one finish a picture no one has ever seen before? There is no consensus and far fewer research than one would initially expect about this. Calcium waves are almost beyond our conception of what complexity means by virtue that they can happen both locally and globally. They are triggered by neurotransmitters yet contribute to neuromodulation. They behave in a myriad of ways, sometimes independently of the presence of a disease.5 It is a puzzle that comes together and falls apart.
To demonstrate here is a video of all the earthquakes happening in a few astrocytes. Every brushstroke of color is a different wave. All this explosion of color happens in twenty seconds. Why? What do they mean? What is the destination and purpose of each wave? I have no answers to any of these questions. A note to be made is that this is 50 microns. That is to say, 0.05 mm. That is to say, 20 times smaller than the average grain of sand. All these insomnia-creating questions seem miniscule but could be the deciding factor between an ailing person or a hale one.
Every day I learn more about my puzzle and every day the image of my puzzle vanishes. I try to understand the soldiers and the medieval castle and although I get closer, I don’t even begin to scratch the surface. The more I try to redraw the boa constrictor digesting an elephant, all people see is a hat. Sometimes I am so lost in my calcium waves that I see a hat as well. Then I remember the sheer elegance and artistry of these unforgettable cells and my eyes well up. Even if they may still be calcium waves to you, they will forever be earthquakes to me. I could not be more grateful for that.
I would like to extend my most heartfelt gratitude to Lord Laidlaw, the Laidlaw team, my Laidlaw cohort for trying to understand my chaos. I also do not think I could thank Dr Vanya Metodieva and Dr Juan Varela enough for supporting me endlessly through this once in a lifetime experience. Lastly, I would like to thank my father for teaching me to see the world with the colors and passion in which he does.
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