I think Bear has been inviting friends over while I’m not home. I was patrolling the yard with my Pooper Scooper today, when I came across some dog crap that was too small to be from Bear’s Big Butt. I asked him about it. He didn’t say shit.
One of the many unpleasantries faced by folks with Parkinson’s Disease (PD) is a loss of balance. Personally, I never had a good sense of balance. I was good with riding a bicycle once I got it moving, but getting on and off the damn thing was often problematic. When I was in elementary school, they would occasionally set up a balance beam in the gym; I could never stay on that thing. When I was in college, I tried a ropes course once. Once! And there have been countless times throughout my life when I was reaching for something, or trying to stand up, and nearly fell. This was a normal occurrence for me, so I had plenty of practice with it. Over time, I got to where I was able to recover from imbalances, without the imbalance becoming an actual fall. I could always, as Billy Idol used to say, “Catch My Fall” (Copyright 1983 by Chrysalis Records).
So when I was diagnosed with PD, I wasn’t worried about the balance problems. Things got worse, as expected, but I was able to handle them. Sometimes it would take three or four attempts to get up outta my water bed. As PD progressed, I became unstable enough on my feet, that I started walking with a cane. Fortunately, my gait improved immensely once I started taking Levodopa; I haven’t needed a cane for about five years now.
So I am surprised to find myself announcing that I have had my first real fall since being diagnosed with PD. No one was hurt; my corrective reflexes worked well enough to prevent injury. But my upper body went all the way to the floor this time, so I do have to consider it a fall. Here’s what happened.
My giant dog, Bear, was laying by the back door waiting to be let out. Before letting him out, I squatted to pet him and chat with him for a minute or two. However, the squatting was not the cause of the fall – no my friends, this was not a case of neurogenic orthostatic hypotension. Instead, as I stood up, my back bumped into something I wasn’t expecting to be there. Not knowing what I had bumped into, my upper body jerked forward to avoid whatever it was, while simultaneously twisting to get a look at whatever it was. While this was happening, my legs kept going up, even though my torso was no longer above them.
At this point I realized that, not only was I falling, I was falling across Bear. This is when the old “Catch My Fall” reflexes kicked in, and saved both of us from injury. I managed to plant my left forearm along the very edge of the ledge that extends from the fireplace while my right shoulder continued all the way to the floor. At the same time, I kept my knees locked, so that I formed kind of a bridge over the dog. The dog was watching with obvious concern, but he didn’t move at all. Which didn’t make it any easier for me to get back up.
And what was it that I had bumped into, causing this near-catastrophe? It was my lawnmower. And yes, I was the one who had put it there. And then squatted under it and completely forgot it was there.
I’m going to ask my eye doctor if he can relocate one of my eyes to my rectum.
As it is, I can’t see shit.
Voyages with Parkinson's 