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.

Reflections

"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain." -Wizard of Oz

I concealed my affected hand behind a mirror while I watched the reflections of my healthy hand open and close. This tricked my brain: As I watched the reflection of my healthy hand, I had the sensation that my affected hand mimicked the movement! But I couldn’t resist peaking behind the mirror, where I saw the reality of my curled limp hand. For me, that shattered any benefit of mirror therapy.   

What I find more useful is to study my healthy side for clues on how to use my challenged side. When working with SaeboFlex to grasp balls, I sometimes notice my movement feels unnatural. I am approaching the ball in a way that makes it easier to grasp given my disability. I stop and study how my healthy side would do it.  I observe the angle I reach from, the position of my hand, then try to mimic that with my affected side – because my objective isn’t to pick up a therapy ball – but to move my affected side as normally as possible. 

I learned from Eric that symmetry is important. He sees a heavy crease in the skin on my affected side, while the healthy side has a fine line. He sees the ridge of a curving tendon on my affected shin, while its mate runs straight. He shows me a mound and hollow in my affected calf compared with the smooth curve of the healthy muscle on the other side. He tells me to imagine my skin like a sausage casing and to spread the meat evenly inside it.

My body is a roadmap showing me where it needs work: level the shoulders, flatten the torso, balance the hips. Today my mirror therapy encourages me to look at both sides.