The Importance of The Toe Wiggle

The importance of toe wiggle doesn't lie in the actual act of the toe wiggle. You reading this may disagree and even, perhaps, think I may need a good stem cell shot to the head... but allow me to explain:

I can hardly begin to describe to you the pressure that one is put under to wiggle one's toes. It is like having final exams on the same day as your arranged marriage. There is also some sort of unspoken necessity of this act as well. As if your head may fall off if you cannot perform the action when commanded to. If you are not good enough to do this trick on command, it simply must be because you aren't THINKING about it properly.

As you can probably already tell, I have not been thinking, acting, nor performing properly.

All of this can lead to a lot of frustration if you let it...which I have had until recently. I think that this frustration was written all over my face in Day-Glo paint, a neon sign, a bullhorn, and some fireworks.

Dr. Ashish, not only has a good handle on my emotions because I see him quite frequently (while he stabs me with inappropriately large needles), but he is also an avid reader of my blog-- always chuckling about our crazy adventures. Sensing my frustration, I had an extremely eye-opening conversation with him about my progress. During the conversation I was explained the aggressive nature of the toe wiggling concept.

Once there is a connection established that extends all the way down from your higher brain to your toes, no matter the size of the connection, the stem cells can recreate the strength of that neural pathways. So even if there is only one neuron firing down to the toes, with the aid of stem cells, an entirely new functional spinal cord can be established. It all makes sense now. Of course that would be the best enthusiastic sign of remarkable progress. Once the toe wiggling is present, there is great confidence that the injected stem cells will then find their way to that connection and continue to rebuild and reconnect other networks that are flawed or sparse or completely absent.

Understanding the method behind the madness a little more, I now practicing the attempt of toe wiggling with hope and care... and little regard for frustration and defeat.

Sometimes It's Okay To Glide Through Life

Oh, calipers... how I love thee and loathe thee at the same time.

Today I spent both Physio sessions focusing on using my calipers to walk. For me, walking consists of shifting my weight to one side and flexing my stomach and hip in a way to pull up the hip toward the stomach. With this movement my leg is free from it's gravity trap and can now swing fairly well from it's ball-and-socket joint--especially being as externally rotated as I am. If I do this with little control my leg will swing around to the side and then rotate in, sort of the way that a child would draw large half-circles in the sand with his feet when fearful of getting his hands dirty. In order to properly move across the runway and make Vandana and everyone else happy I have to concentrate and glide my foot on the floor in one solid forward motion. If I mess this up at all and bring my leg too high or try to make to large a step, that stupid leg will take the chance at freedom and circle through the sand.

After sort of successfully gliding my way down the parallel runway I was told to now do it in reverse. The girls were excited to see me moonwalk. I was worried that I didn't remember the steps nor the song. It's sort of like a dance that you learned when you were a kid, maybe the kind that came with paper footprints numbered for your efficiency. After only a few jagged baby back-steps I was able to regain a sense for what I was to accomplish and the movements became a lot easier. In fact, when it was all said and done the moving backwards part is much more preferred to that crazy forwards motion that is so overrated.

This part of Physio is extremely tiring. I sort of used to wonder how Dr. Wheelchair got so sweaty when he practiced walking, but now I totally get it and want to give him a big high-5. (Dr. Wheelchair is a pretty cool story: He is a doc at the hospital and was involved in an auto accident about four years ago and currently overcoming his paraplegia with some shiny new stem cells of his own).

Having had walked both forwards and backwards in the morning, I was really surprised to see that I was expected to do it again in the afternoon. I am not one to say I am tired too often, but I think I uttered it a few times in the afternoon amid a shaky voice. At one point Vandana asked me if I had any control over the movements that I was making. For some strange internal cerebral abyss of a reason, that hit a nerve--figuratively speaking. I was so taken aback by the fact that I had just sweat out 20 steps forwards and backwards and she actually had to ask if I had any control! It's funny. At the time I was in mid-glide so I told her that I couldn't talk about it now, fearing that I couldn't dare lose any energy to unimportant things like talking and breathing. After I finished my wobbly steps I attempted to reassess what Vandana was asking... to be honest, I am not sure that either of us really got the response we wanted. But nonetheless, there was a truce involved, I think.

I've got it now... so tomorrow will be a new day for gliding, and I have decided to envision the perfection of Olympic figure skating (too bad it is the wrong season for this) all the while. Watch out control, here I come.

Thank Goodness For A Competitive Spirit

Every once in awhile I am reminded that I am a Leo: strong, stubborn, and widely competitive. Sarah says that I am a secret Leo minus the whole competitive thing. This is totally true.

The art of competition is something that I have always been good at. I developed a knack for it early on trying on several hundred swim races for size at my neighborhood pool. Over the years I have had many competitors in the water, but forever the biggest, baddest competitor that I have come across is myself.

I am just beginning to realize that it has been myself all along. Not those snotty, elitist high school opponents nor those friends that you don't truly think as friends but keep around for some unknown reason. Competition and my drive for it absolutely begin and end with me.

Here in India I cannot seem to turn around without my reflection staring back at me ready to challenge my inner and outer capacities. What are you lookin' at? At Physio I clench the parallel bars devotedly with my palms, tense up my already tense shoulders, try to feeeeeeel all the way down to my toes... but what I really focus on is the me staring back in the full-length mirror. Try harder! Push those hips out! What, you aren't strong enough to do that on your own?! I could do much better. And I prove the opposing me wrong with great pride on the majority of days. This competitiveness serves me quite well.

I have also enlisted a new best friend in my bouquet. Michael is a patient here as well with a similar injury in terms of function. I realized today that he is a wonderful catalyst for my competitive enzyme (and the first wheeler that I've ever been swimming with). I am constantly aware of his daily progress and compare it with mine. Are you going to let him show you up? In fact, today there was a pretty serious bet that took place over the finest of shower chairs in all of Delhi, in which I am currently the proud owner of (thanks to Amanda, of course). The bet was a race in which took place at our local pool: who could swim the length of the pool in IM fashion the fastest, Micheal or myself. Naturally I was a bit worried. Michael's got a bit more function, as well as a bit more testosterone to propel him through the water. Sure enough, he did it... twice. He beat the stinkin' caliper pants off of me! Are you going to let that happen?

Sure I am. It wasn't the fact that Michael won, in fact, it wasn't the fact that anyone won. (Or the fact that I will just be showering in his room from now on). Bringing that aspect of competition back to my underwater life is crucial. Crucial for me to improve and progress. I am going to continue to work hard and build upon the strength that I already have. I am prepared to fall, because I will be there to catch myself and make me try again. I will be a warrior and there will be a warrior staring back at me.

I Have Such Amazing Friends

Did Someone Say Road Trip?

If you know me at all, you know that I LOVE a good road trip... and that is exactly what I will remember about my journey to the Taj. Although tired, I had a really hard time napping (unlike my other friend who may or may not have chosen to sleep with her mouth wide open), so I settled myself into peering out the window for the 5 and a half hours it took to get there.

For awhile I spent a frustrating time with my trigger finger cocked and ready for action to catch the most amazing portrait of my view. My camera is neither hi-tech enough, nor am I skilled enough for such a shot. Snap after snap I began wondering why it even mattered so much in the first place. Then I discovered that my desire for the photo shoot was to be able to relay what I was privileged enough to view out of my baby blues to the rest of my world. IT IS FAR TOO IMPOSSIBLE. I wish I could, truly, be able to show you the melody of the lush grass swaying as herds of semi-starved cattle roam freely amongst families of impoverished farmers and their dancing children. I wish I could show you the gaggle of monkeys so delicately and freely crossing the road as any true ancestor would. I wish you could see how time stands still for a brief breath of a minute for me so that I can soak it all in. But, IT IS FAR TOO IMPOSSIBLE. This is probably for the best, I presume, because for then my experience would lose that sense of intimacy that only I would understand. You need to have your own picturesque journeys... for isn't that all life is anyways?

BUT, if you'd like a glimpse of the trip to Taj from my eyes, here you go:

The Tale of the Tumultous Taj

Once upon a time there was a faraway land called, Agra. There were various rumors claiming the necessity for those who journey to Delhi to also extend their voyage to Agra, for Agra held one of world's only remaining wonders (due to the influx of Google, of course)... The Taj. Now this was no small feat, this Taj. People had been traveling for years just to catch a glimpse, primarily at dusk and dawn because of the reflective qualities of the marble. Having been built for luxury, the Taj appears to this day as the wedding cake of the universe.

Those who decided to endeavor from their Delhi homes to Agra must be wary of the journey that lie ahead. Getting to Agra is no simple task. There are millions of charging metal rollers of all sizes to block your way by weaving in your path, yelling with horns to attempt to scare you away, or even crashing together to form even larger metal rollers that no longer roll but block the roadways completely. The few brave and agile ones that make it through will also be tempted by all sorts of mystical creatures who will try to distract their mission. Creatures that wrap on windows motioning to their mouths. They want to eat you. Creatures that shove shiny things and perfumed things at you. They want to blind you. Creatures that have humps and also creatures that have trunks. They want to poop on you.

Luckily, the heroines who dared travel to Agra enlist the aid of a shaman who took them there with little distraction or distaste. This was a true benefit because he was really powerful, you could tell because you could hear radical Hindi pop music coming from his rolling ball of metal. (By the way my new fav is a Punjabi artist known only as Rambo). This music will help glide you to the beautiful land with five and a half hours appearing to fly by as if it had only been five and a quarter.

During a time of great rule and deceit, the surrounding areas of Agra and the Taj were disguised. The people who lived there didn't want to share in the beauty, so therefore they covered the land in cow manure, human urine, and stagnant water. The townspeople were truly overjoyed when they were able to see how well their camouflage worked.

Our heroines from Delhi made it into town and found it hard to manage at all. After having their chariot nearly sink in a road of nothing but water, they barely made it safely to an inn where they could rest their eyes. But before they could manage any rest, they had to eat dinner at a dangerous place with illusory golden arches that almost touched heaven and hell, as well as climb up slippery mountains of marble to locate a place to sleep for the night.

By daybreak our heroines, tired and worn, set out to find the Taj... and find they did. It was just as they had heard. Beauty. Grace. Power. 750 Rupees. No photos beyond this point. "You want postcards, ma'am?"

Feeling completely satisfied in their journey, the heroines headed for home; for they knew that no matter what the labor and expectation was they would be foolish to be so close to the Taj and never witness it for themselves. (That's the only reason to go, in my opinion). And they lived happily ever after...

~The End~

Clown Car Equivalent:

Tonight was yet another first. We decided to venture out to dinner, no news there--even the sisters and ward boys don't expect us to be around in the evenings anymore--but we took another patient with us.

Dinner was great and we had quite a few laughs as our group is continually gaining members. BUT the excitement really started as we all headed home for the evening. Let's do the math:

5 People
2 Wheelchairs

The tricky part of this was that Sarah and Erin had to get their own rickshaws to eventually end with slumber in their respective quarters and the rest of us needed to report back to Green Park for BP readings and sugarplums dancing in our heads. So what else is there to do but stuff (yes, stuff) 3 people and 2 wheelchairs into the same rickshaw?!

It went rather smoothly (honestly, Dad, it did.) We managed to squeeze my wheels in a sort of cargo area behind us, although the cargo area refused to fit my wheels without a fight. The other wheeler's at our feet. Next went my wheelchair frame over laps... then the other frame extended partially over mine... and a cherry on top. Presto! We've done the unbelievable. There is nothing you can't accomplish in India!


Standing was good today. It is getting less sweaty, which is all that I can say about that. I am still working really hard at getting my hips to push through forward. Tonight Kanako gave me a specialized Physio session where I had many physical urges to tear up from the stretching and massaging--Thai style. Yikes! I will be standing tall in no time with that sort of manipulation.

We are going to attempt to wake up early tomorrow morning (in about 5 and a half hours) to go swimming so that we can get to Physio and then head for an overnight trip to Agra. We will be awe-struck at dawn--courtesy of the Taj Mahal, aren't you jealous?

P.S. The sky was blue for about 2 hours early this evening for the first time since I have been here. It sort of made my heart sink from missing the beautiful Colorado sky, but besides that I am taking it as a good gesture.