My balance is coming back!! Whoo Hoo! Almost 18-months to the day of the accident, I am now able to stand on one leg - both left and right sides - for short periods of time without losing my balance. This is huge!! I used to have great balance, able to stand in a yoga tree pose for quite a while. I now have hope that it will possible once again.
The pressure in my head seems to be diminishing as well. The past few days have seen their share of thunderstorms and I had only slight pressure behind my eye. I didn't feel that I was walking the edge of the migraine abyss. Another bravo!
On the not so great side, I still have a lot of sensitivity to light. I'm still easily overwhelmed and have to take in information in tiny little nuggets to get it to stick.
As I head off to the conference - driving because I'm not yet ready to risk the pressure changes of flying (nothing like teaching with a full blown migraine - been there, no fun) - I review the route to places I've been hundreds of times. I used to live in Maryland for heaven's sake. Still, it all seems so vague. My first worry is managing the construction near the Illinois/Indiana border - going east for the wedding in June I got lost and had to turn around. After that, it's I-80 for a long, long way. Thank heaven for interstates. And for rest stops. I have a plan -- take it in small chunks and stop often.
I wish the DOT would get wise and simply put elevated high speed rails down the median along the major interstates. They go where we need them to go and the environmental damage has already been done.
Friday, August 22, 2014
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
It's Puzzling
One of the ways I keep track of how I am improving is by doing puzzles. I keep an old-fashion jigsaw puzzle in my office for clients to work on while they wait. Sometimes I'll spend my own down time fitting the pieces and making connections - literally and figuratively.
Shortly after the accident, even a short time working on a puzzle gave me a major head fog. Now I can do about 1/2 an hour before my head begins to hurt.
Most interesting is the location of the pain. When I do computer work, I experience throbbing in my right temple and behind my right eye. It grows into a true fog if I don't quit at the first signs it is increasing. With jigsaw puzzles, the pain is located more to the back of my skull a few inches behind my ear and above my occiput.
Not to self -- Ask Dr. Larson about this?????
Shortly after the accident, even a short time working on a puzzle gave me a major head fog. Now I can do about 1/2 an hour before my head begins to hurt.
Most interesting is the location of the pain. When I do computer work, I experience throbbing in my right temple and behind my right eye. It grows into a true fog if I don't quit at the first signs it is increasing. With jigsaw puzzles, the pain is located more to the back of my skull a few inches behind my ear and above my occiput.
Not to self -- Ask Dr. Larson about this?????
Friday, July 25, 2014
Overdone
As I've started to feel more and more like myself, I've also slipped into old patterns. Perhaps the most problematic is trying to do too much. (Whatever that means??) In my case, it means not taking a day off, pushing myself to finish tasks rather than resting. I did it for years. Not anymore.
Down time is no longer an option, it's essential. Last weekend I worked on Saturday and then got my daughter. We had a busy schedule with scheduled therapies. Monday, I volunteered at her day program's fund raiser and left early to get to Miss A's acupuncture appointment. Doesn't sound like that much but it didn't give me a chance for quiet time.
A raging migraine was the result. It took a few days but I'm finally back to the "new normal" of a pulsing throb in my temple and behind my right eye.
Eat well, sleep well, gentle exercise, down time... the healing essentials.
Down time is no longer an option, it's essential. Last weekend I worked on Saturday and then got my daughter. We had a busy schedule with scheduled therapies. Monday, I volunteered at her day program's fund raiser and left early to get to Miss A's acupuncture appointment. Doesn't sound like that much but it didn't give me a chance for quiet time.
A raging migraine was the result. It took a few days but I'm finally back to the "new normal" of a pulsing throb in my temple and behind my right eye.
Eat well, sleep well, gentle exercise, down time... the healing essentials.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Felden-Magic
Thank you, Ellen.
I had a Feldenkrais lesson yesterday with practitioner extraordinaire, Ellen Soloway. What a gift.
Working through my feet, Ellen connected my bones until I could feel the lowest depths of the whiplash. There it was, nestled between my shoulder blades, wrestling my spine into a subtle but uncomfortable torque each time I tried to sit, stand, turn. As she worked her magic, I felt the tension ease and the shape of my back begin to change.
At the end of the lesson I sat, shoulder blades relaxed and back, spine erect, the way nature intended. I had found my way home.
Will it last? I don't know. For today, the comfort is still there. It may require a few more lessons to sustain. That's an investment I'm willing to make.
I had a Feldenkrais lesson yesterday with practitioner extraordinaire, Ellen Soloway. What a gift.
Working through my feet, Ellen connected my bones until I could feel the lowest depths of the whiplash. There it was, nestled between my shoulder blades, wrestling my spine into a subtle but uncomfortable torque each time I tried to sit, stand, turn. As she worked her magic, I felt the tension ease and the shape of my back begin to change.
At the end of the lesson I sat, shoulder blades relaxed and back, spine erect, the way nature intended. I had found my way home.
Will it last? I don't know. For today, the comfort is still there. It may require a few more lessons to sustain. That's an investment I'm willing to make.
Sensory Misperceptions
Flashing lights are not my friends!!
I joined a friend at a local art gallery for a peak at the new shows. Alas, one of the exhibits featured a rapid-fire sequence of Andy Warhol's works that left me dizzy and off kilter after the briefest of glances. Less than 10 seconds of viewing was all it took to shift my brain into overwhelm.
10 seconds, the time it took for the car accident more than a year ago. 10 seconds to recognize that this was not the exhibit for me. 10 seconds to bring on a pounding warning in my head. 10 seconds.... It took a lot longer for the effects to wear off.
I found a quiet room with a less visually stimulating work and spent several minutes looking at a calm piece. The brain zaps settled but it took much longer to recover my equilibrium. I wasn't dizzy in the sense that I felt the world spinning but in the sense that I was unable to visually differentiate the world. Several times I found myself dangerously close to walking into a glass wall - not quite sure if the transparency was illusion or reality.
Perhaps this is what it means to live within another dimension. If I, like Alice, went through the looking glass, would I ever find my way back?
I joined a friend at a local art gallery for a peak at the new shows. Alas, one of the exhibits featured a rapid-fire sequence of Andy Warhol's works that left me dizzy and off kilter after the briefest of glances. Less than 10 seconds of viewing was all it took to shift my brain into overwhelm.
10 seconds, the time it took for the car accident more than a year ago. 10 seconds to recognize that this was not the exhibit for me. 10 seconds to bring on a pounding warning in my head. 10 seconds.... It took a lot longer for the effects to wear off.
I found a quiet room with a less visually stimulating work and spent several minutes looking at a calm piece. The brain zaps settled but it took much longer to recover my equilibrium. I wasn't dizzy in the sense that I felt the world spinning but in the sense that I was unable to visually differentiate the world. Several times I found myself dangerously close to walking into a glass wall - not quite sure if the transparency was illusion or reality.
Perhaps this is what it means to live within another dimension. If I, like Alice, went through the looking glass, would I ever find my way back?
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Time Warp
The song - "There's got to be a morning after..." or at least that line of the song (it's not one I particularly like or even care about) keeps running through my head. It kinda sums up what goes on after I stretch my brain, memory and sense. Like a hangover, the brain fog post exertion is predictable. I can plan on it happening.
Writing today is a struggle. Words don't flow. I feel stilted and struggle with spelling, word choice, etc. It's just the way it is. For NOW....
Writing today is a struggle. Words don't flow. I feel stilted and struggle with spelling, word choice, etc. It's just the way it is. For NOW....
Memories...
First the good news. I drove east to attend a wedding and so far so good. No major headaches. Score one for our side. The secret - no pushing. I took two days to drive out, stopped before I was fatigued and during the festivities and subsequent vacation days, I paced myself - plenty of time to rest, ate well, slept. Ah - this is the life. (Or was -- back to work tomorrow.)
The not so good news? My memory is still an issue, or a non-issue as in it's non-ness is an issue. I drove to my friend's home in northern New Jersey. Mind you this is a place I've been many many times. (She drove us to the wedding venue so I wouldn't have the challenge of new terrain, and because what could be better than girl time on the way to a wedding.) I got lost coming home. The first mishap happened in her town, just blocks from her house on a road I've traveled many times. I missed the turn and drove around for about 20 minutes before back tracking and starting over. At least I knew something was amiss. Thank heaven for small favors.
The second mishap wasn't so pretty. Once I get on I-80, it's a pretty straight shot to home, at least until I get into very familiar territory and in rescue range of Illinois friends. All went well until I got close to the Illinois border. There was a detour sign for I-80/90. Was that my road? The run up to Illinois is poorly marked and confusing under the best of circumstances. But in my present state of hyper alert and overcompensation for my lack of memory, it was even more so. I got very confused and took the marked detour exit. Alas, the rest was not so well marked and I found myself wandering the seedier side of Gary, Indiana and environs looking for a way home. I do have coping strategies - the first was to find a safe place to stop and google directions. I followed the big H signs figuring a hospital parking lot would be a reasonable place. The signs petered out before I found the hospital. I found a road I knew Route 20/12. Ah - LaGrange Road. If I could follow that it would eventually bring me to some place familiar. Again, the road signs abandoned me and I found myself in South Chicago. Cottage Grove! Tough neighborhood but I knew I was near the University of Chicago. Familiar enough that I figured I could find my way home. Finally, I saw a group of police officers on a corner and pulled over to ask for directions. One very kindly gave me directions to the Kennedy expressway and I gratefully did a U-turn and completely passed the street he mentioned. At least I knew I'd made a mistake, turned myself around and got home safely an hour later.
Perhaps most jarring was not recognizing the most familiar. I hit the Eisenhower and entered the Twilight Zone. From there to home - again a very familiar road - everything looked different. Familiar but not. I wondered the entire drive if this was right. I had to trust that it was and just keep moving.
It's a strange feeling having to trust instinct - note to self - Don't over think, trust that instinct. I would imagine it's what someone who suddenly goes blind would have to do, trust those deeper senses. I'm learning.
The not so good news? My memory is still an issue, or a non-issue as in it's non-ness is an issue. I drove to my friend's home in northern New Jersey. Mind you this is a place I've been many many times. (She drove us to the wedding venue so I wouldn't have the challenge of new terrain, and because what could be better than girl time on the way to a wedding.) I got lost coming home. The first mishap happened in her town, just blocks from her house on a road I've traveled many times. I missed the turn and drove around for about 20 minutes before back tracking and starting over. At least I knew something was amiss. Thank heaven for small favors.
The second mishap wasn't so pretty. Once I get on I-80, it's a pretty straight shot to home, at least until I get into very familiar territory and in rescue range of Illinois friends. All went well until I got close to the Illinois border. There was a detour sign for I-80/90. Was that my road? The run up to Illinois is poorly marked and confusing under the best of circumstances. But in my present state of hyper alert and overcompensation for my lack of memory, it was even more so. I got very confused and took the marked detour exit. Alas, the rest was not so well marked and I found myself wandering the seedier side of Gary, Indiana and environs looking for a way home. I do have coping strategies - the first was to find a safe place to stop and google directions. I followed the big H signs figuring a hospital parking lot would be a reasonable place. The signs petered out before I found the hospital. I found a road I knew Route 20/12. Ah - LaGrange Road. If I could follow that it would eventually bring me to some place familiar. Again, the road signs abandoned me and I found myself in South Chicago. Cottage Grove! Tough neighborhood but I knew I was near the University of Chicago. Familiar enough that I figured I could find my way home. Finally, I saw a group of police officers on a corner and pulled over to ask for directions. One very kindly gave me directions to the Kennedy expressway and I gratefully did a U-turn and completely passed the street he mentioned. At least I knew I'd made a mistake, turned myself around and got home safely an hour later.
Perhaps most jarring was not recognizing the most familiar. I hit the Eisenhower and entered the Twilight Zone. From there to home - again a very familiar road - everything looked different. Familiar but not. I wondered the entire drive if this was right. I had to trust that it was and just keep moving.
It's a strange feeling having to trust instinct - note to self - Don't over think, trust that instinct. I would imagine it's what someone who suddenly goes blind would have to do, trust those deeper senses. I'm learning.
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