PD Notes
Slow Motion Days -
by Laurice Shafer18 SEP 2022
Dark fills the room. No moonlight filters through the blinds.
I turn toward the edge of the bed, reaching for the cord sewn into the mattress edge and tug. With that small purchase I roll and sit up. I slide from bed hoping to touch down solidly.Yes! I did it.
I stand for a moment, confirming I am upright. Then, choosing the *John Wayne walk--spraddled gait--I head across dim, shadowed space to the bathroom.
A chuckle pops from my humor pocket. How would I ever get on John Wayne’s horse? I use a step-stool to get on my bed and faith that the floor will be there when I need it.
Destination reached, I sink onto the seat. “Thank you, God,” I murmur, truly grateful for safe passage.
Light begins to pick out room details. Time to get walking, I think, and again reach for the cord edge of the bed.
I move around the room, collecting clothing items. John sits up on the bed and begins his waking up process. I’ve struggled into the legs of my jeans. This involves sitting in order to flop the pant leg out on the floor and lift up my leg enough to enter the left leg hole. Then repeat for the right leg. Picture molasses, picture fumble toes, picture … boring.
John gets to the point in his routine where he stands up and heads for the bathroom. At the same time, I stand up and bend down to reach for the pant waist preparatory for pulling them up. As he passes, he sees me struggling. Swift and coordinated, he reaches for the back waistband of my pants and yanks them up. Hello high pockets. They catch under my belly fat and I lift the front waistband up over. Laughter and tears. I am so grateful for his help and floored that I need it.
Later, in the kitchen, I began to dance. Heels to toes and back. I stretch my calves and exercise my ankles and head out the door. After a 25-minute, half mile walk, I’m back in the kitchen and the dance continues.
First item on the agenda--get the frozen waffle in the toaster oven. I park my walker in the middle of our square kitchen. Reaching for the freezer door, I drag out the gallon bag of waffles and another of frozen berries. I twirl, using the walker as my dance partner, landing in the exact position for using the toaster. One step sideways and I’m in front of the cereal bowl cupboard. I learned that the berry-filled bowl can go into the oven with the waffle. In four minutes the waffle is crunchy hot and good and the berries a cool soft. Peanut butter adds the perfect finish.
Next dance move includes a swing with the walker and a glide to the kitty-corner cupboard. My hot drink includes anti-diabetes powders--protein, nano greens, and glycemic core support. Don’t ask me what that is. Because the kitchen is small, most of my moves are sliding side steps, pivoting, twirling, and gliding. All in slow motion. Which gives me time to thank God for movement. It is precious. Already today, I have battled the chair. It is a lounge chair that puts me in position for the dentist--in my own living room. Easy to sit in, relaxing. For me it's a little like a Venus fly trap plant. Once I get in I’m never sure I’ll be able to get out. Some days, I simply stand up. But today happens much too often. I sit up expecting to move forward and up to my feet. Instead, motion halts before I get to the halfway point. So another push of muscle and I halt again. In truth, five to ten times of that and I decide I’d better stop and think. Okay, sitting up, getting up requires me to scoot forward in the chair and then bow my head as I push up. To reach for the $100 bill on the floor in front of me. I do it and stand up. Right now, I’m not sure if I have slow-motion of the muscles or of my brain.
The two *techniques of outthinking Parkinson’s that I mention in this story come from an exercise seminar put on by the Oregon Parkinson Foundation.
08-20-2019
I turn toward the edge of the bed, reaching for the cord sewn into the mattress edge and tug. With that small purchase I roll and sit up. I slide from bed hoping to touch down solidly.Yes! I did it.
I stand for a moment, confirming I am upright. Then, choosing the *John Wayne walk--spraddled gait--I head across dim, shadowed space to the bathroom.
A chuckle pops from my humor pocket. How would I ever get on John Wayne’s horse? I use a step-stool to get on my bed and faith that the floor will be there when I need it.
Destination reached, I sink onto the seat. “Thank you, God,” I murmur, truly grateful for safe passage.
Light begins to pick out room details. Time to get walking, I think, and again reach for the cord edge of the bed.
I move around the room, collecting clothing items. John sits up on the bed and begins his waking up process. I’ve struggled into the legs of my jeans. This involves sitting in order to flop the pant leg out on the floor and lift up my leg enough to enter the left leg hole. Then repeat for the right leg. Picture molasses, picture fumble toes, picture … boring.
John gets to the point in his routine where he stands up and heads for the bathroom. At the same time, I stand up and bend down to reach for the pant waist preparatory for pulling them up. As he passes, he sees me struggling. Swift and coordinated, he reaches for the back waistband of my pants and yanks them up. Hello high pockets. They catch under my belly fat and I lift the front waistband up over. Laughter and tears. I am so grateful for his help and floored that I need it.
Later, in the kitchen, I began to dance. Heels to toes and back. I stretch my calves and exercise my ankles and head out the door. After a 25-minute, half mile walk, I’m back in the kitchen and the dance continues.
First item on the agenda--get the frozen waffle in the toaster oven. I park my walker in the middle of our square kitchen. Reaching for the freezer door, I drag out the gallon bag of waffles and another of frozen berries. I twirl, using the walker as my dance partner, landing in the exact position for using the toaster. One step sideways and I’m in front of the cereal bowl cupboard. I learned that the berry-filled bowl can go into the oven with the waffle. In four minutes the waffle is crunchy hot and good and the berries a cool soft. Peanut butter adds the perfect finish.
Next dance move includes a swing with the walker and a glide to the kitty-corner cupboard. My hot drink includes anti-diabetes powders--protein, nano greens, and glycemic core support. Don’t ask me what that is. Because the kitchen is small, most of my moves are sliding side steps, pivoting, twirling, and gliding. All in slow motion. Which gives me time to thank God for movement. It is precious. Already today, I have battled the chair. It is a lounge chair that puts me in position for the dentist--in my own living room. Easy to sit in, relaxing. For me it's a little like a Venus fly trap plant. Once I get in I’m never sure I’ll be able to get out. Some days, I simply stand up. But today happens much too often. I sit up expecting to move forward and up to my feet. Instead, motion halts before I get to the halfway point. So another push of muscle and I halt again. In truth, five to ten times of that and I decide I’d better stop and think. Okay, sitting up, getting up requires me to scoot forward in the chair and then bow my head as I push up. To reach for the $100 bill on the floor in front of me. I do it and stand up. Right now, I’m not sure if I have slow-motion of the muscles or of my brain.
The two *techniques of outthinking Parkinson’s that I mention in this story come from an exercise seminar put on by the Oregon Parkinson Foundation.
08-20-2019
PD Notes
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