Wednesday, September 1, 2004
Believe it...or not...
We didn't make it to Mesa. Today, it was my fault. I awoke tired and hurting, physically. I don't know why. Maybe it had something to do with my attempt, with the tow guy, to lift my mother into the cab of the tow truck yesterday. At any rate, I couldn't face the extra work involved in going down the mountain. My head was in the right place. At first I decided, well, hell, we'll just leave late, whenever we get around. Noon, if that's what happens. Then, as I was fixing breakfast I called MCF on the off-chance that she'd be able to meet us later in the day. She had stuff to do in the afternoon and said, frankly, "Why don't you forget it? It's going to be 110°F today."
Do I really want to be outside fertilizing trees when it's 110°F? No. That's why I've been trying to get to the Valley early all week. I checked the weather and Friday it's supposed to be in the low hundreds. So, once again I called our yardman and admitted my decision, guiltily, about deciding to put it off, yet again.
I don't know what it is about the last few days. If something isn't standing in my way, I step up and block myself. Oh well. I'll just go with it right now.
We've had an energetic day anyway, much to my surprised delight. Well, the delight part applies to everything up to walkering in the square this afternoon after lunch. It's official. I can't seem to communicate to my mother, either verbally or physically, exactly how to use the walker as a machine designed to alleviate effort and circumvent lower back pain rather than a machine that increases effort and assures lower back pain. I didn't become mean, although I warned her that I might if she didn't stop relying on me to remind her to straighten her back, look forward and up and step up to the plate. Finally, we both gave up.
"Mom," I said, trying to soften my approach, "can you tell me what the problem is?"
"I'm afraid of doing it wrong."
I laughed, and not cynically. "Well, believe me, you don't have to be afraid of that. You are doing it wrong!"
She took what I said in the spirit it was intended and laughed, too.
She's doing all right with the exercises. Better than all right. She performed like a charmed being on the arm circles this morning, and all the other stuff I've been teaching her, like lifting her legs smartly from the thigh when she practices side-stepping (previously, she was sliding them, and, I guess, the PTs at the SNF thought that was all of which she was capable) is kicking in beautifully. I've even got her doing some of her arm exercises standing up in order to increase her balance and her confidence in her sense of balance, and, damn, all that is working. But not the walkering stuff. I searched my mind for some other way to express what she needs to know so that she'd get it.
"Mom," I said, while we were in the car heading home, "Do you understand that, at this point, you're damned if you do and damned if you don't? If we don't use the walker you will not enjoy our outings because your back will hurt from the effort of trying to negotiate walking with my arm. If we use the walker, your technique will assure that you won't enjoy our outings because, once again, your back will hurt from the effort you put into using the walker incorrectly. You're making it way too hard on yourself. Part of using the walker is learning how to walk correctly again."
She understood, but....later, after a very pregnant silence, she said, "I just wish I could figure out where I picked up all these bad habits."
"You know what, Mom? I can't tell you. I'm 52 and since before I can remember you've been hunching at the table, leaning on shopping carts, pushing lawn mowers as though they weighed three times what they actually do. It doesn't matter anymore where you picked them up. All that matters is retraining your body." I'm now thinking that I probably should have mentioned that her scoliosis has something to do with it, too, but that can be (and, to a small extent, already has been) partially corrected with training, so, I suppose it doesn't matter that I didn't mention it.
Finally, in frustration, I said, "I don't know why you listen to me about all the other body stuff, but you don't listen to me about this."
"You might be surprised to know that I am listening."
Light bulb moment. "You know what, Mom? That's it! I'm the wrong teacher for the walkering stuff! I think what I need to do, when we get a prescription from [her Mesa PCP] next week is have him write it for three times a week and make it specific to not only strength, balance and ambulation training but walkering, too. Man, I feel so relieved! It's just a matter of having the right teacher, I think. Anyway, thank you for trying. I really thought you weren't. I thought you were just relying on me to be your mind. I'm sorry for misunderstanding you. I know how hard you've been working and it touches me deeply that you're doing this for me. I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't getting it either. I'm sorry for torturing you. We won't give up walkering between now and the time you start seeing the therapist but I'll lay back, some. I don't think it'll hurt anything. Right now it doesn't matter how you move, just that you move, so we can't hurt you more doing it one way than the other."
And that settled it. We were both happy. She was tired, too. In fact, I need to awaken her from her nap, right now. I'll write more...
...later.
Do I really want to be outside fertilizing trees when it's 110°F? No. That's why I've been trying to get to the Valley early all week. I checked the weather and Friday it's supposed to be in the low hundreds. So, once again I called our yardman and admitted my decision, guiltily, about deciding to put it off, yet again.
I don't know what it is about the last few days. If something isn't standing in my way, I step up and block myself. Oh well. I'll just go with it right now.
We've had an energetic day anyway, much to my surprised delight. Well, the delight part applies to everything up to walkering in the square this afternoon after lunch. It's official. I can't seem to communicate to my mother, either verbally or physically, exactly how to use the walker as a machine designed to alleviate effort and circumvent lower back pain rather than a machine that increases effort and assures lower back pain. I didn't become mean, although I warned her that I might if she didn't stop relying on me to remind her to straighten her back, look forward and up and step up to the plate. Finally, we both gave up.
"Mom," I said, trying to soften my approach, "can you tell me what the problem is?"
"I'm afraid of doing it wrong."
I laughed, and not cynically. "Well, believe me, you don't have to be afraid of that. You are doing it wrong!"
She took what I said in the spirit it was intended and laughed, too.
She's doing all right with the exercises. Better than all right. She performed like a charmed being on the arm circles this morning, and all the other stuff I've been teaching her, like lifting her legs smartly from the thigh when she practices side-stepping (previously, she was sliding them, and, I guess, the PTs at the SNF thought that was all of which she was capable) is kicking in beautifully. I've even got her doing some of her arm exercises standing up in order to increase her balance and her confidence in her sense of balance, and, damn, all that is working. But not the walkering stuff. I searched my mind for some other way to express what she needs to know so that she'd get it.
"Mom," I said, while we were in the car heading home, "Do you understand that, at this point, you're damned if you do and damned if you don't? If we don't use the walker you will not enjoy our outings because your back will hurt from the effort of trying to negotiate walking with my arm. If we use the walker, your technique will assure that you won't enjoy our outings because, once again, your back will hurt from the effort you put into using the walker incorrectly. You're making it way too hard on yourself. Part of using the walker is learning how to walk correctly again."
She understood, but....later, after a very pregnant silence, she said, "I just wish I could figure out where I picked up all these bad habits."
"You know what, Mom? I can't tell you. I'm 52 and since before I can remember you've been hunching at the table, leaning on shopping carts, pushing lawn mowers as though they weighed three times what they actually do. It doesn't matter anymore where you picked them up. All that matters is retraining your body." I'm now thinking that I probably should have mentioned that her scoliosis has something to do with it, too, but that can be (and, to a small extent, already has been) partially corrected with training, so, I suppose it doesn't matter that I didn't mention it.
Finally, in frustration, I said, "I don't know why you listen to me about all the other body stuff, but you don't listen to me about this."
"You might be surprised to know that I am listening."
Light bulb moment. "You know what, Mom? That's it! I'm the wrong teacher for the walkering stuff! I think what I need to do, when we get a prescription from [her Mesa PCP] next week is have him write it for three times a week and make it specific to not only strength, balance and ambulation training but walkering, too. Man, I feel so relieved! It's just a matter of having the right teacher, I think. Anyway, thank you for trying. I really thought you weren't. I thought you were just relying on me to be your mind. I'm sorry for misunderstanding you. I know how hard you've been working and it touches me deeply that you're doing this for me. I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't getting it either. I'm sorry for torturing you. We won't give up walkering between now and the time you start seeing the therapist but I'll lay back, some. I don't think it'll hurt anything. Right now it doesn't matter how you move, just that you move, so we can't hurt you more doing it one way than the other."
And that settled it. We were both happy. She was tired, too. In fact, I need to awaken her from her nap, right now. I'll write more...
...later.
