Rehab progress 9

Fear of falling.

I have never suffered much from it -- before now.

I was reminiscing about good old days, hiking in the remote California Sierra Mountains. The area we used to hike was accessed along the Kern River canyon. It was a very deep canyon, and the trail descended through the tall pines as it neared the bottom. We used to stand at the edge, enjoying the canyon breezes whistling through the tall trees, on the way down from Red's Meadow.

I cannot think of teetering on the edge now, without a thrill of fear. My balance is mostly hypothetical these days, and I walk a dangerous path, even when the ground is level and there are no obstructions.

Everything imaginable conspires to trip me up. I cannot shuffle along with any confidence. Every step portends another wrenching fall. Thankfully, there is usually something nearby to grab for. I rescue in the nick of time, so often that it becomes routine. Passerbys look at me and wonder if I am all right. Of course I am not. I walk like a drunken man. The least thing upsets my precarious balance.

Today, I went with friends to collect firewood for the winter season. It is usually a fun expedition. Today it was a rather mixed proposition. Put together a man who can barely hold himself, trying to operate a power saw, in the forest where branches loom everywhere. I fell down more times than I care to count. Fortunately, I did not injure myself seriously.

Maybe I need to rethink this kind of thing, leave it for people who are more comfortable working so hard.

Rehab progress 6

I stood at the top of the stairs today and realized that they scare me. I have acquired a fear of falling down. At the first, after I had this debilitating experience, I laughed when the physical therapist warned me, "Don't fall down!" After a couple of discomforting injuries resulting from falling down, I now see that it is nothing to laugh off. I can't afford to fall down and hurt myself any more. A sobering thought. And the risk of a fall is very high, for me. I teeter and wobble continuously, like a drunken man. Many times, I have been saved from falling down only because there was something solid for me to support myself with. I have asked those who would try to catch me, just please get yourself out of the way. I really do not want to hurt my friends by falling on them.

I remember an incident in high school that emphasized just how fragile an eggshell our bodies really are. I was a member of the wrestling team at Mira Costa High. When we would start wrestling practice, a whole gang of little guys would jump me, just in fun. They liked to see how many of the little guys I could carry before I collapsed.'

One day I got to the gym early for practice. As usual, a half-dozen of the little guys jumped on me. I toppled over, but this time with unforseen consequence. Robert Ansite, one of the littlest guys, ended up under the pile, and was seriously hurt. When I fell on him, his leg was fractured and his pelvic bone broken. Coach Fernandez showed up moments later, and immediately called for an ambulance. Poor Robert, I never meant to cause any hurt. I have felt bad about injuring him every time I am reminded.

The human body is relatively fragile, and we go to great lengths to protect ourselves from injury. In my case, many of the automatic protective mechanisms are disabled, so I need to pay more attention. Sometimes my guard strays a bit, and I get a little reminder that not everything is as it used to be.