When we think of dementia, symptoms like memory loss and confusion might spring to mind. And that’s completely reasonable – dementia is a condition that progressively affects memory and thinking.

But researchers think there are other parts to the picture.

People with dementia can have periods of “paradoxical lucidity”, or moments when a long-term dementia patient’s brain seems to briefly snap back to what it once was. Carers say moments like these are common.

They can last for minutes or hours and may make a dementia patient’s loved one feel as if, for a while at least, the “fog lifted”.

Dr Heather E. Whitson, a professor of neuroscience, the director of the Duke Ageing Centre, and co-director of the Duke/UNC Alzheimer’s Disease Research Centre, said: “I really think that a lot of what we learn about these dramatic episodes could have bearing on better cognition and better outcomes throughout the disease.”

She is one of many academics who’ll join the Lucidity in Alzheimer’s and Dementia (LEAD) Network.

The upcoming project, due to start this autumn, aims to create a standard definition of lucidity, understand how it affects caregivers and families, and work out the mechanisms behind lucid periods.

Some reports suggest that triggers like music may help to induce these states of clarity among dementia patients. But the team behind LEAD Network want more hard science to explain what’s really going on during clearer spells.

It’s even hoped that working out why lucidity happens in dementia could help researchers find ways to protect us from the condition, and even recover memories.

“We’ve spent decades focused on preventing dementia and treating dementia,” Whitson stated. “This research asks a different question: What allows moments of preserved function to emerge, even in the setting of advanced disease?”

Lucidity among long-term dementia patients may have to do with what’s been called the brain’s “substrate”, or the hidden, underlying part of the brain that still seems capable of regular, or better-than-usual, function.

Dr Whitson said that the times when a person with advanced dementia is able to remember a loved one or sing every chorus of a song “suggest there is still some preserved substrate there. It means that a profound part of their self – which dementia took away – is still there”.

Maybe research like the one she and others are set to undertake could make accessing that “substrate” more predictable and reliably possible.

The professor claimed, “Neuroscientists often frame cognitive resilience as your mind’s ability to hang on to a capacity even though there is brain damage.

“But lucid episodes tell us that even when a capacity seems as if it’s lost, it may not be lost forever.”

When I was 17 years old, I wrote Elliott Smith a fan letter.

It was the year 2000, and I was a high school senior in Dallas. I had never written a fan letter to anyone, but I felt connected to Elliott, despite the fact that we didn’t really have that much in common.

He was, after all, a man in his 30s who had tattoos and wore an assortment of black band tees, while I was a teenage girl who shopped at Abercrombie & Fitch. He sang about drinking and drugs; I hadn’t even tried my first beer.

He had the aura of a defiant nonconformist, while I was a pleaser and overachiever, writing for the school paper, singing in the choir, and joining an endless stream of extracurriculars and clubs to pad my college applications.

But Elliott seemed like the quiet type, and so was I, with high social anxiety and low self-esteem. He seemed like an outcast, and I often felt out of place and lonely in the Texas suburb where I grew up, even with family and friends around me.

He seemed sad; I was a bit sad too.

But what really mesmerised me most about Elliott was his vulnerability. He laid himself so bare in his music, and when I listened to his songs, it felt like reading a diary. It wasn’t just the lyrics – it was his soft singing style, his careful finger-picking, the way he layered vocal tracks so tenderly. I felt like I knew him, like I was a friend he trusted with his secrets.

I wanted to reach out to Elliott to thank him, and convey how important his music was to me. I found an address for his record label, Kill Rock Stars, in the liner notes of one of his CDs, and I mailed the letter. And then I waited.

Months passed, and no response. Maybe I sent it to the wrong address, I thought. I never really expected to hear back, but I did wonder if he even got it.

Graduation came and went. I headed off to college. Elliott didn’t release any new albums.

And in 2003, he died violently and tragically at the age of 34.

The subject line read “Fwd: Elliott Smith biography.” My former boss had passed along a message that was sent to my old work email – the one associated with my maiden name, which no one had called me in years. It was 2023, and I had recently turned 40.

The email was from a writer named Jamie Fisher, who said she was working on a biography about Elliott Smith.

“I’m wondering if you’re the same Kirby Van Amburgh who wrote a fan letter to him around 2000,” she wrote. “His family still has the letter, and I was wondering whether you got a response.”

I sucked in my breath. This means Elliott got my letter! I thought. He must have read it, right? And if he kept it, maybe it meant something to him.

I responded to Jamie immediately. Even though I hadn’t gotten anything from Elliott, she still wanted to talk to me, so we set up a time to chat on the phone the next week.

Before our phone call, Jamie also sent me a photo of my letter to Elliott. It was handwritten on notebook paper, both sides. In the letter, I wrote that I was a 17-year-old girl who had bought all of his CDs.

I think your music is really addictive. It’s so original and creative. I’ve never heard anything like it.

I shared that I liked to play the piano and guitar and sing. I told him that he was an inspiration to me, that listening to his music encouraged me to create my own style.

I try to write my own songs and make them as unique and personal to me as your work is to you.

But I didn’t want to be a musician as a career, I said.

I praised him some more and said that even if my letter never reached him, it was OK.

You are worth the time it took to write this, and you’ll keep kicking ass.

I told him he was incredible and thanked him. I signed it with a “Sincerely.”

If Elliott did in fact read the letter, I could see why he kept it. I’m sure it was refreshing to get something so wholesome.

In the days that followed, I went up into the attic and pulled out my old high school diaries, skimming the pages for mentions of Elliott. I had written about him several times: I journalled about buying my first Elliott Smith CD and hearing the spidery notes of Speed Trials trickling through the speakers of my Magnavox boombox. And I wrote about my letter, saying, “I hope he gets it. I hope he likes it!”

When we finally got on the phone, Jamie asked if I had continued with my writing or music, and I told her about my winding career path: I was a teacher for several years, then worked at a nonprofit for the next decade. I had dabbled in freelance writing here and there, but it never went anywhere. At one point, I wrote a novel for kids, but it was never published.

I told her I had recently transitioned to a job as a writer for a market research company, which I really enjoyed because I got to write every day, albeit in a different way than I envisioned when I was 17.

I talked about my songwriting and how I was in a musical duo with my friend Todd in the early aughts. We put out an EP, some singles, and even a couple of music videos, filmed in Todd’s backyard. It was all just for fun, but it was also a bit stressful sharing my songs and putting myself on display like that.

I explained that creative writing – both on paper and in music – was emotionally difficult for me. Unlike writing for business, when I wrote anything personal, I felt an intense fear of being exposed. I put so much of myself in my fiction, essays, poems and songs. I was terrified of releasing them for public consumption because any rejection of my creative work felt like a rejection of me as a person. Perhaps that’s why I was so in awe of Elliott: he shared so much of himself in his art, in a way that I never quite could.

After a while, Jamie paused and said that she didn’t reach out to me just because of the book. There was another reason.

“Elliott wrote you a response.”

I literally burst into tears.

He did? I choked out. Jamie started crying too.

She said that Elliott’s letter was in the box with my letter. She didn’t know why he never sent it. Maybe he didn’t have a stamp and then forgot about it. At any rate, it was there, waiting to be found.

Jamie read the letter to me over the phone.

Dear Kirby, I read your letter and it made me happy – thanks.

Elliott wished me success with my writing, whatever success meant to me personally. He talked about his love of reading and recommended an author he was really into at the moment, Mikhail Bulgakov. He shared that he sometimes secretly wished he was a writer instead of a musician, as his music so often diverged from mainstream tastes.

He thanked me for adding a little brightness to his day.

I’m glad you see creativity in yourself, the world needs as much of it as it can get, so go out and kick ass!

He signed it with a heart.

After my call with Jamie, I felt a surge of inspiration. Since having my daughter three years earlier, I had stopped going to my writing group, and I hadn’t written a song or even played my instruments in a long time. But now I felt the urge to return to my writing and music, even if for no other purpose than bringing me joy.

In the months that followed, I brought my guitar down from the attic. I played Old MacDonald Had A Farm for my daughter over and over, building the calluses back up on my fingers. I wrote her an original song about handwashing, Scrubbly Bubs and Bubs and Scrubs (which was well received). Last year, along with my husband and two other dads, I played a three-song acoustic set of Raffi covers for our kids’ class at school. It was thrilling to see them laughing and clapping and dancing, a crowd of generous and adoring fans.

I rejoined my writing group. I wrote a little book about potty training for my daughter (which was less well received). I revisited a short story about alien abduction that I had initially drafted and abandoned several years earlier. I wrote a bad poem about the lizards on my back porch. I wrote this essay. Now I write and write and continue to write.

After I told one friend about Jamie’s call, he asked if I was upset that I never got the letter when I was a teen. I said no. Strangely, I was almost thankful that Elliott never sent the letter. It felt like his words were meant for me at age 40, not age 17. I received his encouragement when I really needed it – not when I was already full of excitement and hope and possibility, but later in life, when I needed to be reminded of the spark inside of me.

I wrote to Elliott years ago to thank him. And in a way, I wrote this to thank him again.

“Nobody Broke Your Heart, an intimate biography of Elliott Smith by Jamie Fisher, will be released by Penguin Random House on Aug. 25.

Do you have a compelling personal story you’d like to see published on HuffPost? Find out what we’re looking for here and send us a pitch at pitch@huffpost.com.

I’ve been banging on about the merits of slow cookers, especially during a heatwave, all summer.

Even though they’re usually associated with stodgy winter dishes, their lower temperature and enhanced insulation mean they don’t warm your kitchen up as much as you’d expect.

Alongside a delicious coconut lentil soup and some Greek-inspired mains, I’ve been batch-cooking my own chickpeas, too. (Yes, canned is easier, but tinned chickpeas are also designed to keep their shape in the container, meaning they’re never quite soft enough for dishes like hummus).

Still, it wasn’t until last week that I tried a long-standing trick to make them softer, creamier, and more delicious – and I wish I’d started years before.

I usually add garlic, salt, and chilli to my chickpea water for a bit of added flavour. Salt might have a small advantage in softening them, but for the best results, you need baking soda.

There’s some interesting science behind the addition. When you add the baking staple to chickpea water, it slowly replaces the legumes’ rigid calcium ions with bendier sodium ions.

And the alkaline nature of baking soda also breaks down the bonds that hold their pectins (a type of plant fibre) together.

Combined, those factors mean that baking soda makes chickpeas soft, squidgy, and almost fudgy.

Their skins also soften and even begin to flake away depending on how long you cook them. That, I find, is especially useful for hummus – though I like a looser, softer chickpea for things like salads and chickpea curries, too.

I was amazed by how well the trick worked. Compared to chickpeas I’d stewed for hours, those cooked with baking soda became softer much faster – and eliminated that harder centre I could never quite coax into silky perfection.

You don’t need much to see impressive results. I use about a teaspoon per 500g of dry chickpeas, but some recipes halve that.

The amount you’ll need to add depends, partly, on how long you’re cooking chickpeas for. If you’re making them on the hob, more baking soda will be better; however in the slow cooker, where they stew for hours, try less.

Serious Eats notes that you don’t have to spend hours on the method if you don’t have time. You can soften tinned chickpeas using baking soda, too: just drain them, add enough liquid to cover them, and whack in some baking soda while they boil. Half a teaspoon per 400g can of chickpeas should do the job.

Test the chickpeas as they cook to make sure they haven’t collapsed completely. Once they’ve reached the desired texture, you can remove them and drain them.

This has an added benefit: the chickpea water from baking-soda-cooked legumes is a bit bitter and unpleasant. So, if you need to use this for your recipe, you can save the liquid from the can and use that later on.

As the youngest daughter, you may get labelled as the baby of your family even long after becoming a grown adult.

“A youngest daughter may be simultaneously protected as the baby, expected to be emotionally accommodating as a daughter and discouraged from separating too far from the family,” said Linda Yoon, a therapist and founder of Yellow Chair Collective, which specialises in multicultural therapy.

And this infantilising label can have consequences. While eldest daughters often get saddled with adult responsibilities too early, youngest daughters can also deal with family obligations they never asked for or wanted.

“In therapy, youngest daughters often come in struggling with independence, self-trust, boundaries,” Yoon said.

Here are the most common issues youngest daughters talk about in therapy, according to therapists – along with tips on how to break free from these birth order expectations:

“Youngest daughters may grow up with parents and older siblings constantly advising, correcting, protecting or deciding for them,” Yoon said. “Even when this comes from love, it can quietly communicate: ‘Other people know better than you.’”

Licensed psychologist Lisette Sanchez said she sees youngest daughters deal with what is known as learned helplessness, or a learned dependence on other people, often older siblings or family members who took care of life tasks and made decisions on the youngest daughter’s behalf.

“Everyone else is there for you. So you didn’t get a chance to do that, which then can lead to the domino effect of struggling with individuation, constantly seeking reassurance from others and people-pleasing,” Sanchez said.

As a result, Sanchez said, youngest daughters can struggle with making even simple decisions, like deciding which restaurant to eat at, and feel discouraged about their indecision. They may think, “Why can’t I do this? Why is this easier for other people? What’s wrong with me?” Sanchez said.

There is an assumption that only eldest daughters become parentified with adult responsibilities, but this is not always the case, especially when older siblings leave home and stop answering their families’ calls.

Jessica Lan, a licensed marriage and family therapist, said that in some families, “the youngest daughter may be the person who remains particularly connected to the parents while older siblings have established more independence and firmer boundaries.”

“The youngest daughter may become the one who is more available, checks in on everyone, coordinates family time or steps in when something needs to be handled,” Lan said.

“I work with many first- and second-generation Americans. I also see many situations where older siblings have reached a point of burnout, go to therapy to work on boundaries and redefine their role within the family. As those older siblings begin stepping back from responsibilities they have carried for years, the youngest sibling may end up carrying more of the family responsibilities.”

Yoon said a youngest child may become the family’s source of emotional relief and feel pressure to appear cheerful even when she is not.

“When they become depressed, angry, serious or exhausted, the family may respond with discomfort because they are no longer performing their familiar role,” she explained.

Youngest daughters can spend so much energy helping their family feel better that they don’t learn what their own true values and desires are.

“They can feel compelled to mediate or smooth things over because they experience conflict as something that needs to be fixed,” Lan said. “Along with that, they may have trouble identifying what they actually want for themselves because they are focused on what their parents or siblings need from them.”

To fight this pressure to perform a fake version of yourself, Yoon said, youngest daughters need to give themselves “permission to be complex, not simply pleasant” and to “share feelings with people who do not require you to entertain or reassure them.”

If you believe your birth order has you struggling with your personal relationships, try to set aside time to reflect on which expectations are ones you decide matter – or what you feel like you must do to please your friends and family.

Sanchez recommended that youngest daughters do a “rules inventory” where they reflect on the rules they live their life by, and then go back and label whether this is “a rule that your family sets, your culture set or that you set.” If too many rules are ones that were thrust upon you, it might be time to reevaluate how you show up for others for your own peace of mind.

Yoon said the biggest healing lesson for a youngest daughter is learning how they can stay connected to their loved ones “without making their voices smaller or shrinking themselves.”

If you’re a youngest daughter struggling to trust her own decisions, try making small decisions without consulting anyone, Yoon suggested.

“Let yourself make imperfect choices and learn from them,” Yoon said. “Replace ‘What should I do?’ with ‘What do I already know?’ to build self-trust.”

In his book How To Prevent Dementia, neurologist Dr Richard Restak wrote: “I strongly suggest that if you are 65 years old or older, that you completely and permanently eliminate alcohol from your diet”.

He said that’s because it’s a “direct neurotoxin” and could increase your risk of falls.

And according to America’s Centre for Disease Control (CDC), we should consider striking some foods off the list, too.

But do those stand in the UK?

Here, we asked Dr Giuseppe Aragona, a GP and medical adviser for Prescription Doctor, about whether he agrees with the guidance here.

The CDC said that people aged 65+ are more likely to become hospitalised from bacteria like Salmonella and Listeria.

“Some foods are more likely to spread harmful germs, including undercooked meat and eggs, unpasteurised milk and cheese, and unwashed produce,” they wrote.

Therefore, they suggested people in that age group might want to consider that the following could pose a higher risk to them:

1. Raw or undercooked poultry or meat,
2. Unheated deli meat, cold cuts, hot dogs, and fermented or dry sausages,
3. Refrigerated pâté or meat spreads,
4. Premade deli salads, like potato salad, egg salad, tuna salad, or coleslaw,
5. Raw or undercooked sprouts like alfalfa or bean sprouts,
6. Unwashed fresh fruits and vegetables,
7. Cut melon left out for more than two hours,
8. Unpasteurised juice or cider,
9. Unpasteurised (raw) milk and dairy products made from unpasteurised milk,
10. Soft cheese made from unpasteurised (raw) milk,
11. Unheated cheese sliced at a deli,
12. Raw or undercooked (runny) eggs, and foods that contain raw or undercooked eggs, like cookie dough or eggnog,
13. Raw or undercooked fish or shellfish, including sashimi, sushi, and ceviche,
14. Refrigerated smoked seafood (except in a cooked dish),
15. Raw dough or raw batter made with raw (uncooked) flour.

Dr Aragona said that mostly, the reasoning behind these entries stands.

“I would broadly agree with the principle behind the CDC list,” he said.

“As we get older, changes in the immune system mean that an infection which might cause a relatively short-lived episode of diarrhoea and vomiting in a younger adult can sometimes become much more significant in an older person, with a greater risk of dehydration, hospital admission and, with certain organisms such as Listeria, Salmonella and pathogenic E. coli, invasive or systemic infection”.

The doctor added that this might be especially relevant for people who are frail or have other health conditions, “although I would be careful not to imply that everyone becomes suddenly vulnerable on their 65th birthday, because the degree of risk varies considerably between individuals”.

He said that for him, the foods he’d be most concerned about include:

1. raw or undercooked meat and poultry,
2. raw or lightly cooked eggs,
3. raw shellfish and fish,
4. unpasteurised milk and dairy products,
5. raw sprouts, and
6. certain chilled ready-to-eat foods such as pâté and cold deli meats.

That’s because “these foods can become contaminated with organisms such as Salmonella, Campylobacter, E. coli and Listeria, and the important point is that some contamination cannot be detected by looking at, smelling or tasting the food”.

“I would also add an important UK-specific nuance around soft cheeses, because the advice can easily become over-simplified,” Dr Aragona told us.

“It is not accurate to say that someone over 65 needs to avoid all Brie, Camembert, blue cheese or other soft cheeses; the key distinction is whether the product is made from pasteurised milk and, in some circumstances, how it has been stored and handled.”

In the UK, it’s been illegal to sell raw milk in supermarkets since 1985. But it’s not against the law to sell it in other places in England, Wales, and Northern Ireland.

“Similarly, I would not want the advice to become so restrictive that people are discouraged from eating nutritious foods such as fruit, vegetables, eggs, fish or dairy altogether,” the GP continued.

“The sensible approach is generally to modify how these foods are prepared and stored rather than simply avoiding them; for example, washing produce properly, keeping chilled foods at the correct temperature, observing use-by dates, preventing cross-contamination between raw and ready-to-eat foods, and cooking higher-risk foods thoroughly can substantially reduce the risk while allowing people to maintain a healthy and varied diet.”

Lastly, the expert ended, the person eating the food matters, too.

“I would… distinguish between someone who is a healthy, active 65-year-old and someone who is considerably older, frail, immunosuppressed or living with significant medical conditions, because the latter group may reasonably need to take a more cautious approach.

“Overall, I would agree with the CDC’s approach, but I would present it as risk reduction rather than a list of foods that people over 65 are forbidden from eating.

“The aim should be to reduce exposure to foods where the consequences of contamination could be serious while preserving a nutritious, enjoyable and varied diet, and I think that distinction is particularly important because overly restrictive food advice can itself have unintended consequences for nutrition, enjoyment of food and quality of life.”

Back in 1992, Disney’s flick Aladdin brought in $504 million dollars which, in today’s money comes to over a billion US Dollars. A huge part of the success of the film, of course, was Robin Williams’s incredible performance as Genie.

Speaking to Variety, longtime Disney animator and co-director of Aladdin, Ron Clements said: “On the first day of recording [Genie’s intro] we had script pages written in Robin’s improv style and storyboards illustrating some of the visual metamorphosing we were planning. He started out recording the script as written a few times, then took off in a multitude of directions…

“And he was consistently hilarious. At one point, we had to remove the genie’s lead animator, Eric Goldberg, from the recording stage because his uncontrollable laughter was messing up takes”

Despite this, the actor actually agreed to be paid relatively little for his pivotal role.

Robin recorded around 30 hours of written and improvised dialogue for Aladdin and he revealed to New York Magazine that he did this because he wanted to “leave something wonderful behind for the kids.”

Business Insider explains: “Williams took a hefty pay cut and agreed to be paid $75,000 for his work on the Disney film instead of his usual fee of about $8 million — but there was a catch. Williams did not want his voice used to merchandise products.”

“I don’t want to sell stuff,” Williams later told New York magazine. “It’s the one thing I don’t do.”

The execs agreed to this deal, Robin said on the Today Show, adding: “The one thing I said was I will do the voice. I’m doing it basically because I want to be part of this animation tradition. I want something for my children. One deal is, I just don’t want to sell anything — as in Burger King, as in toys, as in stuff.”

“Then all of a sudden,” he added, “they released an advertisement — one part was the movie, the second part was where they used the movie to sell stuff. Not only did they use my voice, they took a character I did and overdubbed it to sell stuff.”

Perhaps surprisingly, Disney apologised in the form of a Picasso painting valued at $1 million (sure why not), a self-portrait of the artist as Vincent Van Gogh.

According to Artnet, the painting clashed with Robin’s interiors and his friend Eric Idle recommended he burn the painting on live TV.

Of course, he didn’t do that but he did return for the third Aladdin film as well as starring in Disney’s movie Jack and Bicentennial Man.

If anybody would like to apologise to me in the form of a very expensive art work, please feel free.

We’ve written before at HuffPost UK about how different the pitch for Pretty Woman – originally called 3000 – was from the film we know now.

Don’t get me started on the extremely unlikely source material for Dirty Dancing 2, either.

As it turns out, the first version of Pixar’s Monsters Inc was almost unrecognisable from the film that eventually hit cinemas as well.

For instance, the original script didn’t include lovable protagonist Sulley (at least not in his monster form).

Instead, an early plot focused on a 30-year-old accountant.

Speaking about the film’s origins, Pete Docter, the director of 2001’s Monsters Inc, said on Jeff Goldsmith’s Creative Screenwriting podcast: “Well, my idea was that what it was about was about a 30-year-old man who is like an accountant or something.

“He hates his job, and one day he gets a book with some drawings in it that he did when he was a kid from his mum, and he doesn’t think anything of it, and he puts it on the shelf and that night, monsters show up. And nobody else can see them.

“He thinks he’s starting to go crazy; they follow him to his job and on his dates, and all this – and it turns out these monsters are fears that he never dealt with as a kid.”

A bit like fellow Pixar hit Inside Out, which includes personified emotions, each of these monsters would have represented a different one of the office worker’s fears.

As soon as he was healed from one of the fears these monsters symbolised, it would go away. This was actually a little bittersweet, as the original plot’s main character grew close to some of his new companions.

While I have you, here’s another fact about the first movie: Boo actually had a real name all along. Eagle-eyed fans spotted a detail suggesting she was called Mary, like the child actor Mary Gibbs, who voiced her.

Real-life Mary has since voiced characters in Inside Out, though she was only two years old when she starred in Monsters Inc.

Famed screenwriter Aaron Sorkin has lamented what he sees as America’s demand for politicians who feel like the average Joe, calling for an end to the “glamorisation of dumbness”.

During a new interview with Esquire, Sorkin was asked if he still felt like the US is dealing with a “huge, huge dumb problem”, as he’d said back in 2019.

The politically-minded Hollywood veteran explained why he thought little has changed, stating: “We need to get over our infatuation with the outsider, with the plainspoken person that you want to have a beer with.”

Citing his own work, Sorkin continued: “The characters I write are all smarter than I am. I did not blaze any trails as a scholar. People who are smarter than I am don’t make me feel bad about myself, they don’t make me feel inferior. And certainly a president – I need the president to be smarter than I am.”

Sorkin added that, in his eyes, “there are millions upon millions of voters who seem to have a mass debilitating inferiority complex and feel like a smart president, Obama for instance, is looking down his nose at everyone else, or he’s a Poindexter, or he’s not a real man”.

“Right. He eats arugula,” interviewer Michael Sebastian cracked, harking back to one of the trifling complaints conservatives had about Barack Obama‘s alleged elitism.

“We got to knock that off,” Sorkin said. “There has been a glamorisation of dumbness.”

While the Oscar winner didn’t mention anyone in particular, his take definitely echoed the way he described US leader Donald Trump in a 2017 interview with The Hollywood Reporter.

Explaining why he had no interest in putting a Trump-esque character in the reboot of The West Wing, Sorkin called the Republican president “a really dumb guy with an observable psychiatric disorder”.