Here is a truth I’ve learned. I frequently make judgements and assumptions, and discover quite often that I am wrong. Even about myself (whom I presume to know quite well).
The past five weeks since my first trip to the Hanger Clinic have been a time of experimentation and discovery. I left Washington having been introduced to my gluteus medius and knowing that I needed to learn to use trekking poles and to strengthen my core.
One assumption I had (born of experience) was that, when walking, I was too busy staying upright and moving in a forwardly direction to change anything about my body or gait. But when I returned home, on my mile walks to work, I tried to keep engaging those gluteus medius. I tried to engage my core. I found that I’m not yet able to start off that way, nor do both at once, but I can do one of the things some of the time. Huzzah!
In fact, I succeeded in achieving and maintaining a soreness in my gluteus medius for a couple weeks straight. This may not have been ideal, and I did tweak the left a bit too much sometimes. But it’s fascinating. If I try to engage my core, my shoulders drop down and back. If I try to bring my pelvis and backside under me more (instead of crouching/shuffling), it changes my whole alignment. Just slightly, but I can feel it. If I shift my weight back on my feet a bit, different muscles engage. And I can feel it. This is big. Physical therapists have been trying to get me to use these muscles via clamshell exercises since I was about eleven. I hate clamshells. I try, I strain, it hurts, and I am not successful, only demoralized and exhausted. But after using the test devices at the Hanger Clinic, and feeling that new bilateral ache, it’s like my brain finally has a connection to these muscles. Amazing.
I made a second incorrect assumption as well, this time about trekking poles. They’ve been suggested to me before, but I had never tried them. I didn’t want to have my hands full. I didn’t want to kick them or trip on them. How much stability could two sticks really give me anyway? So against trekking poles was I, that I was researching walkers and knew exactly which one I wanted, should that become necessary. I’ve used walkers, I know them, I remember what it feels like. Safety in the familiar; fear in the unknown.
I was handed a pair of poles at the Hanger Clinic and expected to use them. With a light touch. Clearly, this was not going to happen, especially with mock ExoSyms on my legs. I’m going to have to use poles for a while after I get the real devices, so I have no choice but to learn to use them now, take one element of newness out of the equation.
Trekking poles and a DIY balance board
Years ago, before we were married, my husband won a pair of trekking poles at a fundraiser. They’ve sat unused at the back of a closet ever since. Until now. I walked across the living room, feeling stiff and awkward, robotic, like the Tin Man, trying to coordinate all four limbs. Put them away for a while, concentrated on my posture while walking, did my strengthening exercises every morning (okay, most mornings).
On a sunny Saturday two weeks ago, I took my poles to a very smooth stretch of bike path and practiced for a few minutes. My husband said I swayed less and stood straighter. Just like when I was wearing the test devices. Wouldn’t it be ironic if trekking poles already take me halfway to where I’ll get with the ExoSyms… Sunday we did the full mile loop around our neighborhood. So far I haven’t kicked the poles or tripped over them. Although my husband graciously volunteered to kick one out from under me when I didn’t expect it, so I could practice for unexpected occurrences. That day, it still felt awkward. Sometimes I’d take a few steps without the poles keeping up and just lift them. And I definitely list to the left sometimes. The posture feels exaggerated, like I’m some kind of marching soldier. I realize of course that it is not exaggerated, but actually a shade nearer to typical.
Monday, I took them to work with me. By the time I got there, I could feel a soreness starting between my shoulder blades. Maybe that’s good, I thought. At least I’m using additional muscles. After work, I walked half the distance to home and went grocery shopping. Put the poles in the cart. Then I stood out at a bus stop that has no bench, or tree or fence to hold on to. Without poles, I would have been holding on to the bus stop pole itself. Getting on and off a bus with poles will definitely take practice, as I need to use both hands on the bus’s handles to pull myself up into, or lower myself down out of, the bus. Didn’t go smoothly, but I did it.
Tuesday, I was VERY SORE. Shoulders, obliques, whatever the muscles around the back of my ribs are, quads, gluteus medius. Well. Okay then. These poles are definitely helping me use my body in a new way.
I also made my own balance board. Cutting board, pool noodles, and some duct tape (won’t last long). I’ve only used it a couple times so far. Once, just for a minute to try it out. The second time for longer, really trying to engage that core and glutes. It works. When I was done I sat down at my laptop, and not long after found myself loudly complaining about my sore glutes. Yikes! Small increments will be the key on that one.
I’ve continued to use the poles for long-distance walks. One woman who smiles and greets me every morning as we walk in opposite directions applauded me: “Easier! Good!” One student asked me why I have those sticks. I do feel they lend me an extra small protection on the bike path–they are a visible cue to people that I need assistance, and perhaps a wider berth when passing. I would think that my walking itself provides this cue, but I have to remember that although people can see I walk differently, they don’t know that my gait is the result of a lack of strength and balance.
Although I was wrong about walking with poles, I was also right. I dread having them while using the bus again. And yes, I have caught the tip in the gap between sections of sidewalk, and yes the plastic cap on the end stuck in the gap and came off. Yes, I did try to stick the pole back in the cap and succeed only in knocking it sideways, still stuck. Yes, I did have to turn full around and bend down and get the cap and stick it back on by hand. And, yes, I did have an audience. No, I have not practiced getting up from the ground with the poles. I know a fall will happen sometime. No, I don’t put my hands through the straps when I’m walking, because that seems like a disaster waiting to happen. But I can get a pole caught in overgrown shrubbery, and not be pulled off balance. I can pull the pole free without breaking stride. So far. It turns out that using poles can be both helpful and troublesome simultaneously, with helpful winning out overall.
This morning I used my poles to trek to a doctor’s appointment a mile away. I realized I no longer feel so awkward and robotic. I’m getting used to the incessant tapping sounds. When it gets too loud, I’m reminded to use a lighter touch. I tried not to feel embarrassed using them when I walked down the hallway with the nurse (tech? assistant?), tips loudly tap-tapping on the linoleum.
She let the doctor know that I do feel unsteady. “She has her poles with her. But she can walk short distances.” I didn’t bother to let her know I only just started using them to “train” and can walk a mile unaided. It wasn’t important. I can be someone who needs to use poles. It’s okay to own that. Many people with disabilities who eventually start using mobility aids feel that they are giving up their independence when they no longer walk by themselves, because family/society have surrounded them with that ideology. But what they discover is that they have greater freedom and more independence with that assistance. And maybe even more energy and less pain.
I will not jump that far ahead for myself, but I can say that I’m surprised in a really good way. First, that I can think about and purposefully use muscle groups while walking. Second, that I’m using trekking poles with relative ease after only two weeks–and liking it. I walked the mile home from that doctor’s appointment as well. And I did not immediately take a nap.
There’s something else. All this core work these past five weeks? Not only does my torso feel different, I can see a difference. I have no delusions of achieving some kind of ripped, athletic physique with my ExoSyms, so I did not expect a visible change in so short a time. By myself, without anything extreme or a personal trainer. I think I can see, when I engage my core in front of the mirror–dare I say it–a whisper of definition along my obliques. I keep checking to see if I can still see it, if it’s a trick of the light.
These small changes feel so big to me, so full of possibility. I’ve learned that we are not stuck in an inevitable decline. We can change our bodies for the better. Even this body. Even my body.
Three months until my second trip to the Hanger Clinic. What more will I discover before then?
What Happened to Your Legs? 