JON: We went shopping for treats recently. This was not your ordinary chocolate and cake shopping, but shopping on the grand scale – Olympic shopping, in fact. As I may have mentioned a dozen or so times before, I have had a very stubborn case of sciatic nerve pain, which is basically a pain in the bottom. Bad news on top of the Parkinson's. Enough is enough, and action clearly needed to be taken.
Being of sound mind and scrambled body, I went looking for a chair that I can bear to sit in for more than 5 minutes. While being dragged around to places where Marie wanted to buy pointless things like towels and coffee tables and seed potatoes, I have taken every opportunity to thoroughly investigate the market for comfy chairs … and then … Marie found and bought herself a comfy chair which reclines and swivels and probably also types letters. So as not to be outdone, I too found a chair. Only mine is electrified with 2 motors: one reclines, i.e. turns the thing from a chair to a near-bed experience, while the other very cleverly raises the seat and effortlessly tips me out. All I have to do is press a button, something I still find myself able to do without assistance. The chairs should be delivered in about a month, and I can’t wait!
In other news, Marie had to go see one of her clients in Holland. The last time she visited them I was left alone and somewhat miserable at home, so this time she dragged me along. This had upsides and down sides. On the up side, I had company, restaurant meals, and British TV to watch at the hotel. The downsides were exactly the same. As a special challenge, they gave us a room with the shower over the bathtub, which meant I had to forego the continental habit of morning showers because I quite simply cannot raise my leg high enough to get into a tub in the mornings. Instead, I reverted to evening ablutions, with Marie there to assist me in and out.
The journey to Leiden gave us plenty of time to talk. Or to be more exact: it gave Marie time to talk, but that was OK because she talked about me. At least I thought it was OK until it transpired that she was in fact somewhat upset with me. I was very surprised to be informed that I subconsciously resent the fact that Marie is healthy and I’m not, and that I punish her for this by being obdurate (look it up, it’s a finely calibrated insult). I flatly deny this. But of course it doesn’t really matter if it’s true or not, our problem is that we disagree. I suspect the PD is somehow to blame and that Marie will simply have to find a way to live with it.
Her other complaint was that I don’t do the things that I can do. Of this I declare myself guilty, mea culpa entirely. It’s not that I deliberately don’t do things, it’s just that I don’t remember to do them. I need to be reminded, and I can see how the need to prompt me to do almost everything must be irritating. For this I will play the PD card (i.e. blame it on the disease). Because of the PD, I occasionally forget to brush my teeth. Me! I’m a dentist; I recognise the importance of clean teeth better that most people, and I’ve cleaned mine twice daily for over 50 years. If I can forget to brush, surely it’s no wonder I also forget to go for my walk, and collect the mail, and take out the trash, etc. etc. etc. Since shouting at me appears to have little effect, we’ve agreed to try a tick list of daily tasks on the fridge. This too shall pass…
Showing posts with label ergotherapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ergotherapy. Show all posts
20 March 2011
19 October 2009
Freebies
Last Monday ‘Mrs Eee’ my ergotherapist paid me a visit at home, very civilized and very convenient for me. She decided she would try and get me a pole to help me getting in and out of bed (see http://www.pakpaal.nl/home-en). Amazingly, this will be entirely free for me. Apparently, there is some bureaucratic nonsense where a pole by the bed are paid by the local council but a pole by the sofa is paid by the health insurance – but never mind, they can argue it out between them.
As to my problems with controlling the computer mouse, Mrs Eee had a menu of different mice (mouses?) and also gave me the option of having a custom-built mouse – again paid for by the benevolent and munificent state. However, I suspect my mouse problems are due to going off, plus possibly a bit of repetitive strain injury in the palm of my hand. But it’s good to know that help is there if I need it.
The pole arrived this week, and there was much dancing around it in celebration. We installed it by my bed, and it works – not in fact so great for dancing, but as an aid for getting out of bed it is very, very good. It also turns out to be ridiculously expensive, but who am I to care? Mrs Eee is coming round again tomorrow to teach me more tricks for how to get maximum use out of my pole.
Another source of excitement is that I have had a test ride on a tricycle – one wheel at the front and two at the back. I found it surprisingly easy to ride, mainly because it’s almost impossible to fall off, which is really quite reassuring given my recent history with two-wheeled bikes. Steering is a bit more tricky: on a conventional bike you lean over going into corners, while on the trike you have to keep all three wheels on the ground so it’s best to avoid tilting the bike. Tilting is an amazingly ingrown behaviour, though – neither I, nor Mrs Eee or Marie who both tried the bike, could stop ourselves from leaning over.
Naturally, I also have to look around to see who is behind me (fortunately unlikely to be a car as Holland has an excellent network of cycle paths), a highly challenging task with my stiff neck. Unless I get a trike with side mirrors and get better at indicating where I’m going, I’m quite likely to cause regular crashes with other bikers. I am also well placed to crash into those ahead of me because the brakes are not 100% perfect, and those next to me as I tend to drift off line into anyone attempting to overtake me. Anyway, Mrs Eee will take me for more test drives before letting me loose on my own trike, and I am considering getting L-plates.
If indeed I get a trike at all, as this must first be approved by the local council, and then sourced from the manufacturers. I’m told that this can be a slow process – but what passes for slow here in flat-land ? 1 week? 3 months? Well, the sooner the better as I have rather high hopes for my renewed mobility.
As to my problems with controlling the computer mouse, Mrs Eee had a menu of different mice (mouses?) and also gave me the option of having a custom-built mouse – again paid for by the benevolent and munificent state. However, I suspect my mouse problems are due to going off, plus possibly a bit of repetitive strain injury in the palm of my hand. But it’s good to know that help is there if I need it.
The pole arrived this week, and there was much dancing around it in celebration. We installed it by my bed, and it works – not in fact so great for dancing, but as an aid for getting out of bed it is very, very good. It also turns out to be ridiculously expensive, but who am I to care? Mrs Eee is coming round again tomorrow to teach me more tricks for how to get maximum use out of my pole.
Another source of excitement is that I have had a test ride on a tricycle – one wheel at the front and two at the back. I found it surprisingly easy to ride, mainly because it’s almost impossible to fall off, which is really quite reassuring given my recent history with two-wheeled bikes. Steering is a bit more tricky: on a conventional bike you lean over going into corners, while on the trike you have to keep all three wheels on the ground so it’s best to avoid tilting the bike. Tilting is an amazingly ingrown behaviour, though – neither I, nor Mrs Eee or Marie who both tried the bike, could stop ourselves from leaning over.
Naturally, I also have to look around to see who is behind me (fortunately unlikely to be a car as Holland has an excellent network of cycle paths), a highly challenging task with my stiff neck. Unless I get a trike with side mirrors and get better at indicating where I’m going, I’m quite likely to cause regular crashes with other bikers. I am also well placed to crash into those ahead of me because the brakes are not 100% perfect, and those next to me as I tend to drift off line into anyone attempting to overtake me. Anyway, Mrs Eee will take me for more test drives before letting me loose on my own trike, and I am considering getting L-plates.
If indeed I get a trike at all, as this must first be approved by the local council, and then sourced from the manufacturers. I’m told that this can be a slow process – but what passes for slow here in flat-land ? 1 week? 3 months? Well, the sooner the better as I have rather high hopes for my renewed mobility.
13 July 2009
Ever more therapy
JON: One highlight of the week was our third visit to the Parkinson’s centre, where our coordinator gave us feedback from our previous two visits. Much advice had of course already been given by the experts, but the coordinator told us that there would be follow-ups with
1 A psychiatrist and a psychologist who work together and who would help to ‘coach’ me (whatever that means!) in the process of developing a life after work but with Parkinson’s.
2 An ergo-therapist (that’s an occupation therapist to you and me) who will come to our home and teach me how to cook and tie my shoelaces and other useful things that I’ve learnt at least once already but now need to re-learn in a new step-by-step approach that avoids my big issues with multi-tasking.
3 A physiotherapist – actually, this will be the woman I have been seeing for the last year or so, but the centre will suggest various adjustments to the therapy and will also encourage home visits as that can apparently be much more useful.
I am amazed at the lengths to which these people will go to help me. I rather doubt that an NHS ergo- or physiotherapist would make many home visits. Nor, I am reliably informed, should I expect this ultra-high level of service if/when we move to Denmark (though I can certainly expect better than the threadbare NHS). So I am ‘enjoying’ it while it lasts and getting as much benefit as I possibly can.
The other highlight of the week was an invasion by Marie’s nephews (10-year-old twin boys) and Marie’s sister without whom the visit would have brought us to our knees. I have a only distant memory of what 10-year-old boys are like (since my son is now 28-ish). The boys were in fact very well behaved, but the energy they expended was just phenomenal. I spent much of my time hiding in the bedroom with my radio (internet radio being a great boon to the expat community), mainly emerging for meals and the occasional sedentary game, all of which I duly lost as any good uncle should (though I managed to do so without actually trying).
1 A psychiatrist and a psychologist who work together and who would help to ‘coach’ me (whatever that means!) in the process of developing a life after work but with Parkinson’s.
2 An ergo-therapist (that’s an occupation therapist to you and me) who will come to our home and teach me how to cook and tie my shoelaces and other useful things that I’ve learnt at least once already but now need to re-learn in a new step-by-step approach that avoids my big issues with multi-tasking.
3 A physiotherapist – actually, this will be the woman I have been seeing for the last year or so, but the centre will suggest various adjustments to the therapy and will also encourage home visits as that can apparently be much more useful.
I am amazed at the lengths to which these people will go to help me. I rather doubt that an NHS ergo- or physiotherapist would make many home visits. Nor, I am reliably informed, should I expect this ultra-high level of service if/when we move to Denmark (though I can certainly expect better than the threadbare NHS). So I am ‘enjoying’ it while it lasts and getting as much benefit as I possibly can.
The other highlight of the week was an invasion by Marie’s nephews (10-year-old twin boys) and Marie’s sister without whom the visit would have brought us to our knees. I have a only distant memory of what 10-year-old boys are like (since my son is now 28-ish). The boys were in fact very well behaved, but the energy they expended was just phenomenal. I spent much of my time hiding in the bedroom with my radio (internet radio being a great boon to the expat community), mainly emerging for meals and the occasional sedentary game, all of which I duly lost as any good uncle should (though I managed to do so without actually trying).
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