My last post was about the changes with my eyes and finding adaptations to allow me to get back on the computer. The journey to find help with my eyes ended up leading to roads I never expected to travel.
I am currently on a new medication that is a part of a diagnostic process. It is allowing me, during the window of a working dose, to move normally and do many things I haven’t in nearly a decade. Pulling words from my seventies vocabulary–It is awesome!
Walking–I love walking and for the past years have only been able to do so by using a walker for a very short walk, or a “wheelchair” walk with my husband. I would walk until my left leg started to drag and my feet would shuffle, then my husband would push me. Now, I walk a mile (sometimes a little more) on my own two feet, lifting both feet off the ground and barely using a cane.
Climbing stairs–When this med is working, I can do so easily. I don’t need to hold on to the railing. I don’t get out of breath or have to step both feet, slowly, one by one, on each step. I can take each step with one foot and do so with a bounce!
Balancing- I can stand upright with my feet close together. I had gotten to a place with my balance where I was almost doing the splits, having to move my legs further and further a part to keep from toppling over.
Raising my arms overhead and holding them there for awhile.
Sitting and standing upright without stooping. I have tossed the pillows that have been holding me up these past many years, in a corner of my room. Since this medication, I don’t use my walker at all.
Moving my left side to a musical rhythm–for years now, my left side has stayed still, frustrated as my right foot tapped along with music; my left hand resting as my right hand snapped with the beat.
The lights are on in the attic–at least during the “working window” when the dose is high enough. I still have cognitive problems, but I feel brighter, like my thoughts are moving more normally as well.
This medicine is a treatment and not a cure. The “working window”, when the medicine is at a high enough level, is short. Finding a dose that gives me the most function and the longest lasting period of greatest ability, I imagine will take a long while. It is possible that this medication could stop working.
For right now, I don’t know what all this means diagnostically. But, I am thrilled to move and balance, to do things I thought I never would again. Even if the medicine stopped working tomorrow, I will be absolutely grateful.
I feel like I imagine my sixteen month old granddaughter does when she walks on the path by the river holding her grandpa’s hand. She laughs and sings joyfully out loud as if moving her own little self forward on her own tiny feet is the best thing in the world.
Yesterday I borrowed my daughter’s bike and rode down the street and back; though a short bike ride, it was my first in many years…and it was awesome!
I don’t want to share details until I learn a lot more, which will take time. But, on this bridge of getting to move like I never thought I could again, I want to share the thrill of it.