As the years go by, we all have monumental moments of note. As a toddler, it’s our first steps. As a child, the first day of school. Later, our first kiss. Our first graduation. Our first day on the job.
I’ve had the good fortune to check many of these “firsts” off my list.. This week, in a strangely twisted way, I had the “pleasure” of checking another off my list – my first PD fall!
I was raking leaves in the back yard – just plodding along, clearing off a flagstone patio for about the fourth time this season when my feet somehow got caught up in one another. As I felt myself begin to fall forwards, I sped up to try to take myself out of the fall. Bad idea. Practically running, I hurtled to the ground and ended in a more violent crash than if I had just let myself go.
Now, I’m a few days into severe chest pain from bruised (hopefully not broken) ribs, a stiffening neck and muscle aches throughout. When I have tremors or dyskenisis, it strains my muscles even more.
Yet, at the moment of my fall, as I lay there on the cold stone patio unable to move, one of my first thoughts was my next meeting with my neurologist. (As an aside, the other thoughts whereof that tv commercial where the frail elderly woman on her kitchen floor uses a “lifeline” button device and calls out, “help me I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” . I didn’t have a “lifeline”. I wondered who might be the first to discover me!)
As for my neurologist meeting, you should know that, for the past 15+ years, every 6 months, I’ve been asked a series of more or less the same questions. These questions – ranging from side-effects from my medication to my ability to dress myself or do routine tasks – are intended to track the progress of my PD. During a clinical trial that lasted almost 3 years, these standard questions were ramped up in frequency to every 6-8 weeks and the list of such questions swelled to include subjects such as my desire to start fires, any suicidal tendencies I might have, whether I had an increased interest in pornography or any compulsive behaviours. Mostly I would give the same repetitive answers (though the odd time I would lob out a completely different answer for the astonishment or amusement of an Intern or Fellow!).
These days, with that clinical trial behind me, I’m back to the shorter but standardized questions. I know what;s coming and what to expect. I have my duly rehearsed answers and will dutifully respond. Yet this time, there will be one difference. I will inevitably be asked if I have had any dizziness or if I have fallen.
“Yes!”, I will proclaim! “Yes, I have fallen!”.
Addendum: I did get up