12.15.17 Graceful I Am Not

Thank goodness the saying isn’t “Gracefulness is next to Godliness” otherwise I’d be in big, big trouble. You see, I fall down, a lot. I blame it on not picking up my feet, and so does my mother. It was exceptionally bad during the Croc phase – you know what I’m talking about, we’re all guilty.

Problem with this fun party trick is that it’s not entirely the diseases fault. I’ve always been clumsy, in sports I tripped while running, in cheerleading I’d forget about landing after a jump and end up on the ground, in life I’d volunteer to drive us home and SPLAT – not my most convincing argument. One minute I’m walking and the next I’m belly up and seeing stars.

Now it’s worse than ever, a minor stub of the toe of my shoe while walking can quickly lead to full body contact with the ground which is, of course, fun for everyone involved. You’ve heard some of my stories: the faceplant involving the cat, the NOLA ankle/everclear incident (that one was fun), the sprained wrist after Ranch Bash, the broken nose at work, and the list goes on. Thankfully I only have to tell on myself 4 times a year at ALS Clinic then it’s like the falls never happened.

I included a short video below from the ALS Association, not to make you sappy and sad, but because I like the way it explains what ALS is and how it progresses. We all have these things called motor neurons, and mine aren’t relaying the communication from my brain to my muscles, which is causing my muscles to atrophy. Next time you see me, remind me to  show you my atrophy so you know what I’m talking about.

Recently my falls have had less to do with stumbling or tripping and everything to do with lack of balance. The upside to balance related falls vs. tripping falls is that I usually, and almost always, land on my butt. I don’t know about you, but I’ll take a bruised backside over a broken tooth everyday of the week. I do still have trouble getting up from these falls, and the shock of the incident takes my breath – rather than knocking my breath out when I stumble – so even though I’ve spared my teeth I’m still a hot mess afterwards. Phil is a big help when we’re on the move, but does little to correct being off balance. Not entirely his fault, he is pretty skinny after all, my arms aren’t strong enough to aid in correcting the issue when my body is determined to find the ground.

The moral of this warm and fuzzy post is that, per usual, ALS sucks in many different ways. Last weeks sucking involved me in the closet, a sneeze, and a fall that pulled our clothes rod down and left me belly up, in a pile of shoes, covered in clothes. Go ahead and laugh, you know I did – and Kenneth did not.


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