Magic moments

Several times a day I wobble but stay upright. These ‘magic moments’ may look alarming, but I celebrate each one of them as a fall I’ve prevented.

I love a good ceilidh. Since my teenage years barn-dancing in the church hall, through many a birthday, wedding or fundraiser, I have enthusiastically dashed with the white sergeant, promenaded with gay Gordon and stripped the willow.

There’s a lot of galloping, spinning, and changing direction to challenge balance – for anyone, but particularly for people with Parkinson’s. So when I was invited to a Rotary fundraiser I paused for thought. Could I still dance the evening away without falling over?

Turns out I could, and I did. Curiously, I found the instructions for slower, couples’ dances harder to follow than the energetic big-set numbers. My favourite dance of the evening was The Flying Scotsman, a new one on me. Hurtling the length of the hall without colliding with the human ‘train’ coming in the other direction was a challenge, but my husband/dance partner Robin was there to help me count to 8 and remind me what happened next. It was a great success.

Oooh-err!

Several times a day I lurch forward or sideways and with a shout of ‘Oooh-err!’ or ‘Here we go!’ take firm steps to balance up. I think these episodes are more alarming for the observer than for me. I celebrate each one of these ‘magic moments’ as a fall I’ve prevented. They also serve a diagnostic purpose – when a lot happen close together, it’s probably time for my next dose of meds.

Parkinson’s and other neurological diseases affect proprioception, the body’s ability to recognise where it is, and what it is doing. Often, messages from my head linger in the Outbox because I haven’t clicked ‘Send’ to my arms and legs. Or sometimes my head clicks ‘Send’ but my limbs are on ‘Out-Of-Office-Auto-Reply’ till next Wednesday and resolutely not responding. It feels like being drunk – all the time – but without the pleasure of a nice glass of Chenin Blanc first. To others, it looks like being drunk. I dread standing up and walking away from a restaurant table, the best I can wish for is that other diners are enjoying themselves too much to notice.

Internal spirit level

My little internal spirit level reflects on each episode and what triggered it. What was I doing just before the wobble? Often there’s been a change of height or focus. I’ve just stood up, or stepped aside for someone to pass. I’ve looked quickly from one thing to another and back again. Someone’s spoken and I’ve turned my head. On the fells, I ask my walking companions not to say “Oh look, there’s a [whatever-it-is]!” while I am moving, because by the time I have processed the information and picked myself up from the ground the [whatever-it-is] will be well out of sight. It’s exhausting to have to risk assess every step but a small price to pay for my mobility.

I’ve only fallen once in the nearly three years since my diagnosis. In an unfamiliar Parkrun, I looked at the finish line, looked at my watch, liked what I saw and – oooh-err – the next thing I saw was the gravel path coming up to get closer acquainted. Serves me right for showboating. And several people reassured me that it doesn’t count if it’s in a Parkrun.

With professional help, I’ve worked hard on my balance – shout outs here to:

• Debbie Jackman (Get-Active)
• Mike Salkeld (North Lakes Physio)
• Anna Kharin (Neuro Heroes)
• Meg Lowry, who devised the app Clock Yourself, which I reviewed last year.

Tai Chi

Many people with Parkinson’s have found the forms of Tai Chi and Qigong helpful in bringing balance and calm and reducing stress.  The shapes are a bit too slow and measured for me, but we are all different. It’s worth trying a class and seeing if it suits you. My best balancing work is in Debbie’s Kickboxercise class. At great pace, all those unsent messages suddenly shift out of my Outbox and reach my arms and legs.

Near-misses

I thank my friends and supporters, who are good at noting hazards and pointing them out to me. There are external things we can all do to prevent trips and slips – moving obstacles, anchoring loose cables, mopping up spills. Acting on ‘near misses’ is important, too. If you have a small collision or trip, please move the offending hazard or report it. Please don’t just walk away and let the next unwary traveller go flat on their face.

Next time you see me wobble, don’t worry. It’s just my internal reporting system logging a near-miss. Only worry if I actually hit the ground.

Play > Magic moments > Perry Como

Image by No-longer-here from Pixabay