Mind Over Muscle

Pre-stroke I worked out listening to my iPod, thoughts meandering over yesterday, today and tomorrow.  Post-stroke my mind needs to engage as much as my muscles.  First, I relax the spastic muscles in the area I want to exercise; second, I link my brain to the muscles I want to work (harder with some than others); third, I put my core muscles in proper position. Now I exercise, holding all of the above in mind as I repeat the motions.

I liken it to golf and all I had to keep in mind simultaneously to hit the ball on the sweet spot: Keep that elbow straight, rotate those hips, keep that head down – oh yeah, and try to relax! I sucked at golf.

I’m working harder at rehabilitation than I ever did at golf.  The most mentally challenging aspect for me is correcting bad habits – not just those acquired through adaptive functioning – but those that pre-exist the stroke.

Instead of keeping my feet parallel and engaging my core muscles, I turn out one foot for stability. Eric calls it my kickstand and says a lot of people do this, which contributes to the prevalence of lower back pain. I do it when I’m standing at the kitchen counter, in line at the post office, lifting weights. 

The other bad habit many of us have is to use our joints for stability instead of our muscles. It’s easier to lock our knees than to use our leg and core muscles. I use my hip like a linchpin, taking all the weight on it and cocking it as needed to move me. No wonder it hurts. 

For healthy recovery, I need to stop relying on my joints and make better use of my muscles.

Breaking Barriers

In "Getting Better vs. Getting It Done," I wrote about the struggle to use my affected hand in performing daily activities. A comment on the post prompted me to ask "Why don't I use my left hand?"

1. I’m afraid of breaking something. With my unreliable grip, I once dropped a glass bottle of sparkling juice. Which leads me to…

2. I don't want to cleanup a mess. I tried holding the cap of the laundry detergent in my left hand while pouring the liquid with my right; the cap tipped, spilling detergent between the washer and dryer. Which leads me to…

3. I’m tired. Using my affected hand requires more concentration. If I'm tired, I'm less likely to push myself. And I'm more likely to be tired if I’ve had incidences like #2.

4. I'm in a hurry. Using my left hand slows me down, especially if it results in incidences like #2, which can follow #1 and are more likely to happen if #3.

5. I don’t want to hurt myself. My finger sensitivity is still minimal, so I don't reach into dishwater to grab a knife, or try to pick up the lid of a pot on the stove. I’ve been doing simple ironing, but I practice first with a cool iron. This only works because I'm not #4. I might have all my Christmas napkins put away by Labor Day.

6. Inability. There are things I can't do yet – like open my fingers when my arm is stretched above my head.

7. Habit. After 23 months, I'm on autopilot with my right hand and assume #6.

Now that I know why I don't use my left hand, I can develop strategies to break these barriers to progress. Awareness of a problem is the first step toward its solution.