My World of Parkinsonian Delights

Posts tagged “balance exercises

The Well-Placed Chair

Thank goodness for a well-placed chair.

Gail and I just got back from our Sunday grocery romp.  She generally grabs a couple bags from the trunk and watches me as I toddle with my cane up the front steps and through the door.  Then, I keep the dogs at bay as she goes back out to get the rest of the bags.

As she came in, I held the door open for her, and I felt a sharp “ice-pick” of pain in the right side of my noggin.  I stepped backwards to allow her to enter.  (I can hear Dr. Grill right now — “NEVER STEP BACKWARDS!”)

I lost my balance.  But I held on to the doorknob with my left hand…

I kept falling anyway, but now it was more of a controlled descent until my butt landed on a chair we have positioned by the hallway near the front door.  No harm, no foul.

I suppose I should enter it into my “fall journal” just to be fair.

But first, I’m gonna go lay down for awhile.

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Stumblebummery on Video

Been awhile since I’ve showed you folks how unbalanced I am.  Physically, that is.  Mentally, well, you can pretty much judge that by what I write.

But here’s a video I shot this afternoon of me doing my PT “balance” exercises.  Notice the quotation marks around the word “balance.”

Enjoy.  And please, laugh quietly.  I have feelings, ya know…

Fell on the Bed, Broke My Head

Well, not really.  My head isn’t broken.  But it is sore.

I was doing my PT balance exercises in the kitchen, and I noticed that I was particularly wobbly, even doing the easy stuff like two feet together, side-by-side.  Felt like I was gonna fall.  Knocked the plastic flowers and their vase off the counter.

So I decided to go into the bedroom, so if I fell it would be onto something soft.  Like a bed.  Or a dog.

I did the one-foot-half-in-front-of-the-other thingie.  Closed my eyes, crossed my arms over my chest, and immediately began to wobble.  I over-corrected from a lean to the right and fell to my left.  Right onto the bed.  Right onto a dog on the bed.  And the back of my head crashed into the bedroom wall with a loud “WHUMP!”

I said the only thing I could think of.


From the bathroom, Gail hollered, “Are you all right?”

I said, “Yeah,” and flopped back on the bed, closing my eyes so the room would stop spinning.

I didn’t lose consciousness.  But for a little while it was more difficult than usual to speak.

I’m still wobbly, still moving slower than I usually do, but I think I will be OK.

So will the wall.