Tumbles and Stumbles Again

 I took a bad stumble and fall this week. Five AM, and I'm walking through the kitchen to get a soda so I can take my morning meds. From the dim light from my bedroom, I thought I could do it safe enough. I'd done it several times before with no incident. What I didn't know was Mel had moved the box fan by the trashcan. It was safely tucked away behind the trashcan awaiting to be cleaned of the season's dust and dirt. What I didn't see was the loop of power cord in my path. I wobbled on it for a couple seconds, and then I went down hard on my back side.

Previous back surgeries and rods in my spine reverberated  up and down leaving a tingling sensation down both legs. I pulled a drawer out to aid me in rising back on my feet. I braced my AFO clad foot flat on the floor and pulled myself up with my functioning leg. Once I was halfway up, the functioning left leg crumpled. It wouldn't support my weight. The tingling now progressed to numbness. Boy, I really did it this time, I thought.

I waited a couple minutes and tried again with the same results. To compound things, I had to pee. I positioned the pad and let loose of my bladder. After the fourth attempt to rise met with failure, I was exhausted and surprisingly nauseous. I grabbed a mixing bowl and retched into it. Great, now I was lightheaded to boot.

We had corralled the puppies into a 8'x8' area with wire shelving. Of course, the runt figured out how to climb it and get out. She's so happy and proud of herself for doing this. She'll come to me with her tail wagging to beat the band. She has since showed one male and another female how to do this. But as an added twist, she'll climb back in the enclosure for nap time. The other two hasn't learned this yet.

So there I was in a heap on the floor feeling thoroughly sorry for myself and who should come visit me, but the runt. She's full of kisses and snuggles, and I can't help myself but to smile and laugh. There's just something about a puppy so glad to see you with joyful glee that you can't stay miserable.  After a few minutes, she went off to see what trouble she could get into.

I evaluated my situation. The bottom drawer that I had been using was way too low, but the next drawer up from my pots and pans drawer was too high. What I needed was an ice cooler or dining room chair. But either of those things were in reach. I could maybe crawl to the breakfast nook to grab a chair, but at this point I had been on the floor from my fall 4 hours before. I was exhausted, thirsty, and sleepy. I had in fact dozed off from time to time during this. I'd be awakened by one of the dogs begging to be fed, or the puppies (all three were loose now), or the cats. But I couldn't help anyone including myself.

Finally, I hollered, "Mel, I need help!"

"What's wrong?"

"I've fallen and can't get up!"

I hear her get out of bed. I'm holding one puppy who's snoozing on my lap. I handed it to her.

"Whatcha doing with her?"

"She got out and was cold."

"What have I told you repeatedly about using a chair to hike yourself up," came Mel's voice from the dining room as she put the sleeping puppy down by her siblings.

I was too exhausted  to try to explain how hard I fell, about my numb legs exacerbated by Charlie horse cramps when I tried to move them. I just let her go on.

"Never mind, I'll get you one. Geez!"

She plopped the chair next to me. 

Did I mention that the fire in the wood stove had gone out while I was sitting on the floor? Or that I was only in my nightgown? It must have been 50 something degrees on the floor. I had pulled dishtowels from a drawer to throw over my shoulders for warmth for hours as I struggled to get up. It sure didn't help me moving my legs. Or, that my nightgown was soaked to the waist with urine? Now, you know.

But, I struggled to get to my feet by placing my upper body onto the chair and dragged my feet into position. I was wobbly and my legs didn't want to support me. But, I used the chair as support as I crossed the expanse of the kitchen. I was borderline dehydrated. It had been 18 hours since I'd eaten last. All of this contributed to my wobbly feeling. I held onto furniture as I made my way to a hot shower. I was a frozen mess and needed to thaw out.

Before you think Mel is a cold heart witch let me explain something to you. Mel and I have an understanding. She doesn't jump in to help me and do things for me by my request. She would have jumped in if I had asked her to.

I felt a little bit better after a long, hot shower. My knees were scraped and bruised after my repeated attempts to get up. There were also numerous puppy claw scratches. After my shower, I went to the kitchen for my soda and I took my morning medicines even though it was time to take my afternoon doses. I grabbed a couple handfuls of peanut butter stuffed pretzels bites. I went through the afternoon in a hangover phase as is usual after a fall for me. I know my body will hurt worse tomorrow. Mel had the wood stove belching out warm air and all was right with the world again. Sort of.

I cleaned up the puppy messes, fed the dogs and cats, and cooked dinner. Well not exactly cooked dinner, it's was reheating leftovers. We watch a couple shows on Netflix and I got another hot shower. My body still aches, my head is throbbing, but I had to stay up for my 11PM meds. Maybe another hot shower will help. After that, I crawled into bed. Tomorrow is another day in the life of living post stroke.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Listen to What Your Body is Telling You

I've spent decades listening to what my body is telling me. It's not that hard. But the difficulty lies in deciphering what the root message is. When your body needs something, it tells you in cravings. It's unlike some of the weird sudden cravings you get during pregnancy.

I give in to my cravings food wise with moderation. Does that surprise you? I long ago learned to listen to my body and trust what it was saying to me. Namely, something is lacking in my diet that my body needs. Numerous blood tests will backup this suppositions.

For months now, I have been craving peanut butter. I mean, I was eating 4 pounds of the stuff every month. So I put on my investigator cap. Remember, that I'm a nerd that loves researching, and really don't have much else to do.  So what does peanut butter have in it that my body could want? Other than fat...

• Protein. Peanut butter contains 7.02 grams (g) of protein per 2-tbsp serving. This counts toward the recommended dietary allowances (RDA) for women of 46 g and 56 g for men, which varies by age and activity level.
• Magnesium. With 57 milligrams (mg) of magnesium, each serving helps towards the RDA of 400–420 mg in men and 310–320 in women. Magnesium is essential for health, playing a role in over 300 chemical processes in the body.
• Phosphorous. Each serving contains 107 mg of phosphorus, which is about 15.3 percent of the RDA of 700 mg for adults. Phosphorus helps the body to build healthy cells and bones and helps cells to produce energy.
• Zinc. A serving of peanut butter provides 0.85 mg of zinc. This is 7.7 percent of the recommended daily intake of 11 mg for men, and 10.6 percent of the RDA of 8 mg for women. Zinc is necessary for immunity, protein synthesis, and DNA formation.
• Niacin. Peanut butter contains 4.21 mg of niacin per serving, which makes a useful contribution towards a person's recommended intake of 14 to 16 mg. Niacin benefits digestion and nerve function and helps produce energy.
• Vitamin B-6. With 0.17 g of vitamin B-6 per serving, peanut butter provides almost 14 percent of an adult's RDA of 1.3 mg. Vitamin B-6 plays a role in over 100 enzyme reactions in the body and may be necessary for heart and immune system health.

(copied from https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/323781.php)

I pulled a copies of my last two blood tests and compared results. Areas that was higher and lower were noted. Then, looking back with my calendar, I could pin point what was happening had happened in my life that could attribute to the changes.

The blood tests-My protein level was unchanged so it couldn't be that. But, as I did a side by side comparison the magnesium, phosphorus, B vitamins (b-3 niacin and 6), and zinc were lower in the most recent blood test. They were still in the normal range, but at the lower end of the scale. Not enough to ring the alarm bells with the doctor, but my body knew.

I searched for a lower fat option. A lot of times my body will substitute a craving for the first available option that is easily recognizable. But this time, other than eating several different things, peanut butter was the answer. Now before looking on the internet or product label, I didn't know/remember all of this. I'm good, but not THAT good.

So what was happening in my life at the time, I was under stress and not sleeping well. Cancer has a way of doing that. My cardiologist stopped my Potassium and Magnesium supplements because they stopped my Lasix, diuretic. I started on two new medicines: one to raise my heart rate and blood pressure, and one to control the high blood pressure within my heart. I had cold like symptoms because of my allergies and the unseasonably strange weather. I also fought off a bladder and sinus infections. I had a thyroidectomy and took high doses of radiation. In other words, my life was up in the air, twisting around like crazy.

I take what my body tells me very seriously unless I'm craving chocolate cake or cookies. (grinning) I analyze my cravings to as you can tell. Just to be sure. I've been on a low sodium diet since 2002. But with my heart rates and blood pressure being so low, I now crave salty things like potato chips and salted peanuts. I let myself have them in moderation at bedtime when my blood pressure naturally falls.

My body is craving milk products and broccoli now. Why? My last bone scan showed I was starting to show signs of osteoporosis. But, the cravings started six months before my bone density scan.

So how do you listen to what your body is telling you? You've only got one body and it is your temple. You nurture it. It will tell you what it needs to give you the best possible outcome. You just have to do focused listening and analyze what it's telling you. Having had courses in nutrition, helps, but the internet is full of information about vitamins and minerals that your body needs to work properly. By listening to my body could I have circumvented my strokes and even my heart attacks...partially. A proper diet, exercise, and the right course of treatments would have helped. I was too busy at the time to really listen to what my body was trying to tell me. I also have a trunk full of family history pointing to predispositions for these. You might be able to beat the family history, but it's unlikely. But, forewarned is forearmed. My sister has escaped some of it until she turned sixty then the dam broke. Still that ain't bad. Better than me who started with cursed genetics at twenty-six.

Other ways your body is talking to you is aches and pains. If the next day you are feeling worse for wear, next time try a little less. At my age, a fall takes two days to recover from so I try not to fall. After a stroke, falling is not an if it will happen crap shoot, but when it happens. Because, you will fall no matter how careful you are. All's it takes is an invisible piece of lint on the floor or over reaching. The craziest things seem to work against you.

I do my utmost to prevent falls and mapping out in my head how to get back up again. How to get upright again on your own is very important. There always isn't a handy chair around you to help with this.

Is there one spot in your house or yard that trips you up constantly? There are several for me. My ramps outside my house is a big one for me, especially after rain or snow. I positions height friendly chairs close to where I usually land or use the grooved stairs. What's a   height friendly chair, ice chest, or anything? A sturdy (can bear your weight at any angle) item at abut elbow high. If I can get my functioning elbow on a surface, I can straighten my feet to rise by using the item for support, then my hand can lift me all the way to upright. See, prewarned is prearmed. For height differences in flooring, a piece of tape or a painted line works wonderfully. It physically denotes a change to cue me to raise my affected foot higher or hold something so I don't trip or throw myself off balance. But even with these precautions, it the little stupid things that cause falls. But I digress.

In short, try listening to your body. It's telling you what it needs to remain working in tip top shape.  It just takes practice.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Stretching the Limits~ Oops!

A few weeks ago, I told you about stretching my limits picking up twigs and branches.  Well, I did it several times since then. I've now achieved the ten-foot mark from the top of the ravine at a 45 degree downward angle. I've actually done this several times this week. Of course, there were trees and undergrowth to assist me also.

I'm still testing my limits. I'm hoping to make it the whole 600+ feet down to the creek this year. Well, okay, it might be a two-year goal. I haven't found the right spot yet to do it safely without a three-foot or larger drop offs along my path. I'm thinking the more I test my limits, the more I can accomplish. I haven't been everywhere yet on this property yet.

our cockeyed homestead, CRAZY prop. lines

I do know on the western edge of the orchard(top left dog leg), there is a 20-foot drop off down, and then slopes to the creek. I can see the creek bed but not fool hardy enough to attempt it even on the yard tractor. A zip line with a swing or rappelling gear possibly. Nah, not at my age...maybe twenty years ago I'd try it, but then it was pre-strokes. Now, I'm too old and safety conscience.

That leaves the only possibility of my reaching the creek is the south to southeastern side. The left line is the ravine I'm talking about. Luckily, the property is heavily treed. Otherwise, I wouldn't even attempt it. So as you can see from the picture. This aerial shot the longest, semi straight line is the ravine I'm taking about. The creek runs from the bottom corner point up to the uppermost dog leg at the top of the screen and forms our property lines. Some CRAZY property lines, huh? But anyhow, you can actually see where I'm trying to go. It's almost an acre of land away from the house...all downhill.

I know your asking what the oops was about in the title. Well, on one particular slope I fell coming back up the slope. It was a choice of either a hard fall or semi controlled fall. I was about 6' from the top. I lost my balance enough that the small shrub I was grabbing couldn't hold my balance. I barely missed the holly bush by inches with my affected knee where I landed. I congratulated myself on such a controlled fall.

I hand and kneed it crawled up the slope about three feet to a tree. Then, I was able to stand up. It's a neat trick on a upward slope and an AFO clad foot. But I did it. No cuts nor bruises, only my pride was hurt. Of course, the rough treatment to my body caused my spasticity to worsen until the next day and my body hurt all over.

It's been about a week since this incident and I still haven't ventured down that far again. It's not fear because I'll do it again if the need or inclination hits. We've had a rainy wind storm this week, which has given me ample sticks and branches on fairly level ground to pick up. I'm actually working smarter instead of harder. They become a fall hazard when the last few leaves on the trees fall. Soon there will be snow and ice to make walking hazardous enough without wet leaves covering up sticks and branches too.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: The Weather Outside is Frightful...

The weather forecast today, sleet with a strong chance of snow.

Come on. It's a sing-a-long!

 Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

Yes, it's winter. Two arctic dips with more to follow until the spring thaw.  But inside it's warm and cozy. Thanks to the church's delivery of a cord of wood. The wood stove is chugging away. Actually, we usually keep at least half a cord on hand all year long.

With the bone chilling, colder weather comes the ever lengthening slew of problems that are associated with age and having lived the life as fully as I have. Arthritis aches with Rice Krispies early awakening (snaps, crackles, and pops) are a daily occurrence. Not that I'm complaining, but I'm just stating facts. Living post stroke only adds to the reality that I ain't even a fall hen anymore. Namely the spasticity worsens as the weather turns frosty. My hands and arms bear the ugly, blackened burn marks from touching the wood stove while loading wood in it one handed. But it's not just me, Mel has her full share too. Oh, to be able to afford a front loading wood stove. Even a used one.

I'm not nearly as cute trying to get up.

Falls happen with more frequency in spite of being extra cautious of how slippery ice and snow are. My new shoes make every piece of imaginary carpet lint a trip hazard. With the Dantrolene causing temperature intolerance (side effect) doesn't help the situation. I find myself shivering when the outside and inside temperatures fall below 60. That's not like me at all. But my pain from the spasticity is definitely more manageable. Unlike the Zanaflex that either zombified me, or had me shedding tears with each spasm. I can always put more clothes on.

So if you are reading this and thinking I'm miserable, don't worry. I'm not. I actually love the winter months. Granted living in south Georgia for decades did thin my blood some, but I really do like the temperature fluctuations here in north Georgia. The Bible talks about all things having a season. This is just that...a change in the seasons of my life. I accept this for what it is. Within a few short years, I'll be a great grandmother. It just is what it is.

Someone has a sick sense of humor

Maybe if I hadn't had my strokes, I'd be fighting against this aging process. You know the mighty IF, but there's no changing what is. As humans, we always look for something to blame or play what-if mind games with ourselves, don't we? The fact is that I had strokes. Yes, I'm still fighting to recover what I lost with each one, but as time marches on, I realize that yes, my life was changed forever, but it is not so bad. I mean things can always be worse. Just thinking about the possible worse is terrifying. It makes me thankful that I'm not in that situation.

The truth is my strokes only marginally changed my direction. I had plans and continued along my desired path with a few adjustments. I'm still doing what I want or need to do. I may have to ask for help on occasion, but that's okay. I didn't get where I am or become who I am without help along the way. Granted now, it may be asking for help in different ways than I did before. "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up." There's someone around that can help me up. This is the major adjustment in my plans instead it only being me and single handed homesteader.

Speaking of helping me up. I've noticed that it is taking me longer and it's harder getting up. Sure getting up after a fall since my strokes has always been problematic, but now, I'm having extreme difficulty rising from standard sofas. In part, I blame the abuse my left (functioning) knee and hip has had to carry the burden since my strokes. I've even noticed a touch of carpal tunnel syndrome in my left (functioning) wrist.  I asked my PT, "what can they do about it now?" I mean think about it. Under normal circumstances, immobilization and/or surgery would be the treatment. But given that it's the only fully functioning limbs I have, it's just out of the question even for a week or longer. Yes, I do know some double amputees that still can do. But as difficult as it has been to figure out how to continue doing has been, to make do with even less is mind boggling even if is only temporary. I just prefer not to.

I asked my therapist what can be done about the atrophying muscles in my right calf. I was told that I'm doing everything I can and should do. While this is comforting, it doesn't change the fact that it is happening. I just have to bide my time until I can get out of my AFO permanently. The fact that it took five years to see the marked changes in my calves, shows the diligence I used with my leg exercises. This atrophy in the calf could also account for my "new" difficulty rising too. It "rapid" onset in the past year can be attributed to the spasticity also. Notice how this is cylindrical in nature this is. So maybe I'm grasping at straws continuing to hope that the people at Emory can help. But for now, some hope is better than none.

So while the weather outside is frightful, I'm cozy and warm inside most of the time. But that in itself can be dangerous, Without the busyness of outdoors, I'm left with too much time to ponder these things. Indoor activities leave my mind idle while my hands are busy with knitting or spinning. Come on. Sing with me. Then my focus can be remembering all the words, enunciating the words correctly, and staying on key.

Nothing is impossible.

Thursday's Tumbles and Stumbles: Oops I Did It Again

Yep, you read the title right. I fell down hard again. This time it was inside. Here lately I seem to be falling quite a bit. Mainly because I'm distracted. There's just too much to do that I'm taking shortcuts I shouldn't. I won't be the poster child for not falling anytime soon.

I hate falling with a passion because it means me having to pick myself up. This seems to be getting harder with each passing day. Not that it was a piece of cake before, but it was a matter of minutes instead of thirty to get myself upright.

What I hate worse is falling and my hubby seeing me do it. This was one such occasion. Between my dining room and family room is where e the large boxes my husband's hospice supplies come in. The boxes are big and wide enough that my bunnies can't jump over them when having their free open space romp. It works as a barricade. All I have to do  for an opening. There is also a one brick width step on the other side. Usually I can negotiate it with no problem even with my hot pink grocery basket in my functioning hand.

That was the case this time. I had shopped at my food stores off the family room and was making my way back to the kitchen. Through the gap in the boxes ran the cord to my vacuum cleaner. It had been a clean the animal cages day so I'd vacuumed up stray hay and pellets.ways leave the vacuum plugged in because all my plugs are usually behind heavy furniture. My vacuum has a 25-ft cord so it reaches that area of the house and the living room.

I'll bet you can guess what happened next. I managed the step fine. But the first step into the dining room my affected foot caught the cord. No, I didn't fall here. It was while I tried to disengage  my foot from the cord that I lost my balance. The shopping basket hit the floor as if I had set it down there. I tumbles backwards into the case of pull-ups.  My functioning elbow brushing against the opening and then landing hard as I did.

There I lay sprawled on top of the box when I hear, "OMG, are you all right?"
Yep I had fallen in plain sight of my hubby. I couldn't answer him because the table blocked my line of sight to him, but yelled anyhow, "Yes!"

He takes off his oxygen and struggles to his feet intent on "helping" me. He's holding onto chairs and anything else that he could grab for support while making his way to me.

Finally, he gets to where he can see me. "Go put your oxygen back on! You can't help me."
"Yes, I can," he is gasping for air at this point and turning light blue.
"You can't lift me up nor can you even give me a supporting arm. Now get your oxygen on," I yell.
"I can offer support," he said while the color deepens to a gray. He is hovering above.

Downward facing dog in yoga

I struggle to a to an AFO flat on the floor, butt in the air, attempting to drag my functioning leg into position stance. Meanwhile I'm turning my head and looking up at him, "Honey, please go get back on your oxygen. I got this."
Because I'm looking upwards vertigo sets in and I lower myself into a seated position. "Please, you are worrying and you are going to have a panic attack. At least get the portable O2." I roll myself over into the A-frame stance and stand.
"See I told you I had this. Now let's get you back to bed and on O2," said with more bravado than I felt.

His lips are almost black at this point. His eyes bore the wild-eyed look of panic. I got him in bed and put the nasal cannula on him and told him to take some deep breathes. I put the pulse-ox monitor and his finger as I settled him back. Oxygen saturation 73 and a pulse rate of 116. Not good, but his darkened color was draining down some. I grabbed his morphine and his Ativan hoping to head off a really bad panic attack. The liquid morphine would be in his system in five minutes where the Ativan could take 20-30 minutes.

"You're bleeding!"
"Where?"
"OMG! Your arm is already turning black!"
It was just a cardboard paper cut about two inches long, the bruising was another matter. It stretch over the elbow and down halfway of my forearm. Yeah, this was gonna smart in the morning. "I'll get cleaned up after you're settled."

Thirty minutes later, he is drifting off the sleep. His face was his normal ashen color and his vitals had settled to his normal. Major panic attack averted. I toddle off the the bathroom to clean my wounds...a cardboard cut on my functioning elbow and rug rash on my knee.

The next morning and for three days afterwards I felt the effects of this fall. I reminisce fondly of a time when I could fall and keep on playing instead of feeling like I'd been run over by a Mack truck. Ah, such is the life of a post-stroke survivor and a older one at that.

Until next week...