Putting It All Together

Last summer I “tried my hand” at rowing a boat. My husband Ian and I were staying with family at the Hood Canal in Washington State. I picked my way carefully over the pebbled beach and climbed into the rowboat while Ian held it steady. He rowed away from shore and handed me the oars – one at a time, of course, because I had to position my affected hand on the left oar.

I tried to row the boat. The left oar flailed.

First uncoordinated attempt: note different oar positions.

I needed to help my affected side through a few strokes so it could get the feel of the circular motion. I gave the right oar to Ian and placed my right hand over my left, guiding myself through the motions -- dipping and pulling, pushing and leaning.

When that felt comfortable, I traded oars with Ian. Now I observed my right side doing the same motions. I felt how the oar pushed on my thumb as I reached forward, and pulled on my index joint as I leaned backward. When I had that sensation locked in my mind, I took both oars.

My healthy side made longer, stronger strokes, my husband pointed out. I eased up on the strong side, allowing my affected side to set the pace, consciously synchronizing my movements.

Row, row, rowing the boat!

Next thing I knew, I was rowing the boat gently down the lake – for about 10 strokes, then my affected hand tired and wouldn’t hold the oar anymore.

I repeated the exercise a couple times over the next few days. By day three I had muscle memory and was able to start off with coordinated strokes. It felt so good to exercise my body this way!

Dear Santa: a rowing machine might be a great therapy tool for me to build strength and re-coordinate muscles.

On the Table: Re-coordination

Sometimes Eric and I spend our sessions in the massage room. I lie on my back and he circles the table, moving each of my body parts into its correct position.  He does this over and over again – jostling, rotating and pressing me into proper alignment.

The sessions are relaxing, but I don’t just lie there: I’m an active participant, paying close attention to where he shifts my body. He’s constantly correcting the rise of my shoulder, the tuck of my chin, the tilt of my hips. My job is to learn to assume these positions myself.

I focus on the position he leaves me in as he moves onto another part of my body. When he reaches my spastic arm or leg, my torso often contorts: on the healthy side, my ribs bulge, my back arches. This compensation for my affected limbs is particularly noticeable on the table where I feel the absence of the supportive pressure beneath my back.

These same types of contortions occur when I’m upright and trying to use my affected leg. But they are more controllable on the table where maintaining balance is not a factor. If I can gently reassert the proper spine position while Eric works, my spastic muscles respond favorably, elongating as he pulls and shifts them to release the trapped energy that makes them stiff.

This illuminates two of the important principles that Eric has taught me:

1) The connectedness of the body – how the parts affect each other.

2) The necessity of re-coordination in stroke survivors to remind all of the muscles how they are supposed to work together.

More on these as we continue to examine Eric’s techniques.