Just out of the hospital this past summer, I had horrible balance. It was carry my cane everywhere or do the touchy feely thing with walls and furniture. A major part of the problem was I was never given PT in the hospital. I went from prone in bed or sitting in bed to discharged home. Let me tell you, standing up that first time without help was scary. I'd only been in bed for almost two whole weeks. I wobbled a bit as I commanded my legs to hold me
The paperwork for discharge had been signed and home care instructions were issued. I had waited two hours for the aide, and Mel and I were ready to go. I got to my feet and the bed alarm went off. The nurse rushed in, but I had to get dressed to go home.It was three steps to the commode. With the bathroom door opened, the nurse couldn't help me. I made it and plopped my hinny on the seat. I had Mel pass me my clothes and shoes. I got dressed.
Months passed. Where I once was walking inside the house with no assistance, I found I was having to touch or hold walls to keep my balance. Coming off the antipsychotic drug helped, but I was still having issues with balance. A reduction of the seizure med helped even more. I was only doing the touchy feely thing in wide open walking, with stairs, and any place that wasn't level. Physical therapy helped restore my confidence in my feet and legs. Eventually, I was able to come off the seizure meds entirely. Almost instantaneously, I was able to walk upright again and have my balance back. Almost entirely the need for that touchy feely instinct is gone.
|She's carrying a leaf in her mouth. Goofy dog!|
Now, it was a question of strengthening. It's taken forever (just 4 months) for me to get three-quarters back to my old self. I've got to get that last quarter plus to be ready for spring planting and pruning five months away.
This week, I was out on the property picking up kindling for the wood stove. That's one of the chores I do around here. About 50 ft behind the house is where our ravine begins. In increments, this slope drops 600 ft down to the spring fed creek which borders our property on two sides. Well about
We use junk mail and tree twigs and branches to start our fires with. Waste not, want not. When it's been dry for a few days, I'll fill the (3) trash cans with this kindling. So anyhow, I traverse down this slope. I'm holding small, small knee high undergrowth and testing my footing with each step. I was under no illusion that the bush would stop me from sliding, but that little support bolstered my confidence to climb farther down.
I might note here that it's a 45 degree or greater angle slide down to the creek below (about 660 ft). I'll add, if I didn't hit a tree on the way down. I sure didn't want to do that - let alone the climb back up again. I may take chances, but I'm not stupid. Maybe a little insane, but definitely not stupid.
About half way down, I started a another pile of my candidates for a pile. I stuffed them under my affected arm now that I have limited control of my shoulder again. I climbed to where there was a pile of limbs I saw from the top. Looking up from where I started I felt a wave of self accomplishment, but the real trick was making it back up. I gathered branches and twigs and tossed them up the slope as far as I could... about a foot with all the undergrowth. I repeated this process until I had the pile licked. I made my way up to the pile and repeated the process until all branches and limbs were up on semi-flat ground at the top.
I was too pooped to pop afterwards. I sat in front of my computer playing mind games and watched a movie for four hours before it was time to cook dinner. Well not exactly cooked. I opened two pint jars of beef stew I'd canned earlier in the year, but I made biscuits. By this stretching my limits showed me that I'm getting back to my old self again. Now for my next testing of my limits... you'll have to wait and see.
Nothing is impossible.