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We're walking, we're walking . . .
Jan. 10th, 2019 06:34 pmToday I worked a corner that was quite the physical challenge. Right in front of the school with two uncontrolled crosswalks to cover. Uncontrolled means there is no traffic light or pedestrian signal. It's all on me to gauge breaks in traffic and groups of kids to make crossings.
Since I was covering two streets, this also meant I was hopping to keep up with parents who couldn't wait ten seconds for me to clear one road before moving to another. As a result, I had to move as fast as I could, whistle in mouth, to make sure that I was at least trying to cover everyone. Crazy corner, to be sure. But fun, as the kids and parents were great. I'm covering this same corner Monday afternoon.
But all this rushing made me think about how far I've come in my stroke recovery. Right after the stroke back in the summer of 2013, I could walk, but not very well. I suffered from balance issues as well as some fairly severe proprioception problems that had to be addressed before I could be trusted to safely walk around unsupervised.
Proprioception, in case you didn't know, is your real sixth sense. It is your brain's ability to know the position of your various limbs without seeing them. If you want an example of how this works, find something near you that you can pick up. Close your eyes, and do just that. Your brain has mapped where the object is and knows where your hand and are during the entire exercise. Losing proprioception means your mental perception of limb positioning can be off by pretty significant factors. My right foot, for example, could feel several inches from its actual location. Which can be deadly if you are walking down a flight of stairs.
This was a big part of my physical rehabilitation, both in- and out-patient. Just walking; first with a walker, then a cane, and finally with no support. Eyes closed, eyes open, forwards, backward, up stairs and down . . . I was making my brain build new pathways to monitor body position and balance. There was also the tile box, a fiendish contraption that put me - well secured by a safety harness - on a tilting platform while watching a scene that was moving in a different way. This really challenges even people with no brain damage.
But it all worked. I was able to walk, with a cane for the first few years, and gradually became more and more active. I now only use the cane when I am feeling poorly. Because the issues I dealt with are still there, and they do come out when I'm tired or stressed. One of the reasons I've come to love my bright orange shoes (other than the Giants reference) is that I can see them at the edge of my field of vision as I walk, and just that glimpse of orange is enough to snap my perception of where my foot is back in line with reality.
So I've been walking more and more. To be honest, my legs have always been my best feature and as a former Infantryman, walking is in my blood. Walking, whether in the park or at the gym or at the mall, also helps slow the progress of my peripheral neuropathy. So I get out whenever I can, and is one of the reasons I love my current job.
I've even signed up to do two 5Ks this year. Kirsten started doing them and has a blast, so why not? Another milestone, no pun intended, to show that I am healing. I might even train to walk a 10K at some point. Keep getting better is my motto, and of course, I have Drill Sergeants living rent-free in my brain that keep pushing me to go a little bit farther every day.
You will notice that throughout this piece I have specified walking. There is a really good reason for that. During my physical therapy, we learned that I simply am no longer built for running. My brain can't handle the coordination required to get that kind of motion, and I quickly lose my balance or lose track of where my right foot is. The best I can manage is a slow jog or a brisk walk.
But I'm in no real hurry to get anywhere, to be honest. My days of needing to be first in line or the first to get something are long behind me. I'm just happy that I'm still able to get there on foot.
Since I was covering two streets, this also meant I was hopping to keep up with parents who couldn't wait ten seconds for me to clear one road before moving to another. As a result, I had to move as fast as I could, whistle in mouth, to make sure that I was at least trying to cover everyone. Crazy corner, to be sure. But fun, as the kids and parents were great. I'm covering this same corner Monday afternoon.
But all this rushing made me think about how far I've come in my stroke recovery. Right after the stroke back in the summer of 2013, I could walk, but not very well. I suffered from balance issues as well as some fairly severe proprioception problems that had to be addressed before I could be trusted to safely walk around unsupervised.
Proprioception, in case you didn't know, is your real sixth sense. It is your brain's ability to know the position of your various limbs without seeing them. If you want an example of how this works, find something near you that you can pick up. Close your eyes, and do just that. Your brain has mapped where the object is and knows where your hand and are during the entire exercise. Losing proprioception means your mental perception of limb positioning can be off by pretty significant factors. My right foot, for example, could feel several inches from its actual location. Which can be deadly if you are walking down a flight of stairs.
This was a big part of my physical rehabilitation, both in- and out-patient. Just walking; first with a walker, then a cane, and finally with no support. Eyes closed, eyes open, forwards, backward, up stairs and down . . . I was making my brain build new pathways to monitor body position and balance. There was also the tile box, a fiendish contraption that put me - well secured by a safety harness - on a tilting platform while watching a scene that was moving in a different way. This really challenges even people with no brain damage.
But it all worked. I was able to walk, with a cane for the first few years, and gradually became more and more active. I now only use the cane when I am feeling poorly. Because the issues I dealt with are still there, and they do come out when I'm tired or stressed. One of the reasons I've come to love my bright orange shoes (other than the Giants reference) is that I can see them at the edge of my field of vision as I walk, and just that glimpse of orange is enough to snap my perception of where my foot is back in line with reality.
So I've been walking more and more. To be honest, my legs have always been my best feature and as a former Infantryman, walking is in my blood. Walking, whether in the park or at the gym or at the mall, also helps slow the progress of my peripheral neuropathy. So I get out whenever I can, and is one of the reasons I love my current job.
I've even signed up to do two 5Ks this year. Kirsten started doing them and has a blast, so why not? Another milestone, no pun intended, to show that I am healing. I might even train to walk a 10K at some point. Keep getting better is my motto, and of course, I have Drill Sergeants living rent-free in my brain that keep pushing me to go a little bit farther every day.
You will notice that throughout this piece I have specified walking. There is a really good reason for that. During my physical therapy, we learned that I simply am no longer built for running. My brain can't handle the coordination required to get that kind of motion, and I quickly lose my balance or lose track of where my right foot is. The best I can manage is a slow jog or a brisk walk.
But I'm in no real hurry to get anywhere, to be honest. My days of needing to be first in line or the first to get something are long behind me. I'm just happy that I'm still able to get there on foot.
