Don't You Just Hate X-Rays?

    Have you ever experienced a moment that totally transforms your perspective on something? I did recently – and whilst I’m mostly writing this just to get my thoughts down on paper (as it were), I thought I’d still share it!

    As I’ve mentioned, I have dyspraxia, which is described as a “neurological disorder, beginning in childhood, that can affect planning of movements and coordination as a result of brain messages not being accurately transmitted to the body.” Fancy description, huh? To be fair, I borrowed it from this website - http://alifewithdyspraxia.webs.com/whatisdyspraxia.htm - and it’s as good a description as any. It certainly describes my awkward gait!

    However, there was more to it than that; I wrote some months ago about the on-going pain I’ve got in my lower back, hips, knees and feet. I’ve had pains there since I was a child; being born with inward-turning feet, a consultant at the hospital when I was a few months old said that I had awkwardly-placed hips, which would straighten with time and my walking would improve.

    This was the early 80’s, and dyspraxia wasn’t well-known back then – at least, not in my corner of the world, and physiotherapy wasn’t an option. So, I’ve grown up with an awkward gait and painful hips and knees; please don’t misunderstand me, however, I’m not saying this to whinge. That’s just the way it’s been – and certainly, the positive in my life has far outweighed any of these negatives.

    However, I recently did a marathon (a walking marathon, I should say – I’m not silly enough to run it!), and it made me aware that I was 31 years old, but immediately after I’d finished, was walking around like a man triple my age. “Something’s not quite right,” I told myself.

    I was sent up the hospital for a x-ray – which is never the most elegant of procedures, let’s be honest. When I’m being sent for scans of my hips, and they’re worried my trouser zip and belt buckle is going to interfere with the scan … well, my trousers weren’t going to protect my dignity for very long. So there I was, laying on a bed and being scanned by a bloody great big machine. Events like that ensure that I will never develop a huge ego.

    So, back to the GP I went … and there I found out something that threw me. It turns out that what I thought was a problem with my hips – thus causing my feet to turn inwards – was actually a problem with my back. Vertebrae L4 and L3, in case you particularly wanted to know.

    It doesn’t mean anything to me – except that it’s in my lower back. Essentially, these two vertebrae “knock” against each other, when they should be a reasonable distance apart, and that impact causes knock-on effects in my hips and knees. It turns out that the problems with my feet are pretty much coincidental. Go figure.

    So, what’s the next step? Physiotherapy. I’m more prone to arthritis and other lower-limb problems, so if I can postpone any issues through physio, then my philosophy is “Let’s do it.” The next few months will certainly be … interesting.

 

Dyspraxia, Movement & Navigation

    I write about my dyspraxia on a semi-regular basis and I've had some really positive feedback, both from people with the condition as well as friends and family of those who have it, so I just wanted to say "thank you" before I started - I really do appreciate all the responses I get.

    Onwards and upwards! Today I wanted to write about the physical side of dyspraxia, which is a huge part of the condition. Every sufferer is different, of course; I know of some dyspraxics who have learnt how to catch a ball, for example, or read a map or have decent hand-eye coordination, none of which I have. It's a good job I don't intend to be a tennis player or Bear Grylls, in that case - I've always preferred a more sedentary life!

    I have zero navigational skills, as evidenced recently by a recent spate of visits I've made to different towns for work purposes and got lost far too easily, but there are things that help me with that - phone-bases sat nav and good friends and colleagues who are very patient with me, even if they don't always understand my pathological inability to get from A to B without paying a brief visit to Z (which, 9 times out of 10, is perfectly pleasant as a sight-seeing diversion).

    In years gone by, I would have "solved" this problem by not going anywhere; now, I do it anyway. There's a small amount of panic involved, because I'm fighting against my natural instincts (which are to hide under the duvet instead), but you won't get very far if you don't fight those instincts from time to time.

    I'm written before about my lack of physical coordination in certain situations; ball-catching and anything where judging distance is required ... well, in those circumstances, I'll usually volunteer to make the half-time drinks instead, as long as someone else can carry the tray. My feet often have their own ideas about where they want to to go, and not always in conjunction with each other or my brain, and so it can occasionally appear as if I am the worse for wear ... honestly, mum, I don't know what that's like (and especially since I don't drink anymore). It's actually quite liberating, because I've realised that I don't care what other people think - and I suspect people sometimes think I am the worse the wear. If they do - sod 'em. It's the way I am. I'm used to it!

    For me, the other main physical effect of dyspraxia is joint pain; I've always had sporadic aches and pains in my joints (lower back, knees, hips and thighs especially) and I don't really think much about it now, although it's one of the more ... annoying features of my condition. The aches can come and go, but they do often come at times when I really, really wish they'd just bugger off; when I'm planning to go for a walk, for example, or half-way through a working day. It's strange; I can sometimes walk a few miles and feel absolutely fine (I love walking, it helps me plan my story ideas in my head), but I'll walk down the stairs to my front door the next day and my knees will scream at me.

    Part of this is undoubtedly genetic - I can think of a few examples in my own family where they've got bad knees or back, etc - but I know my dyspraxia plays a part, and I have to accept that. Although I'm aware that I have limitations (doesn't everyone?), I won't allow my dyspraxia dictate to me what I can't do all the time; if I want to do something, like walking five miles on a Saturday afternoon, then I'll damn well do it - and train my body to cope with it.

    Since I've been writing this blog, I've said how I want to document my journey of understanding my dyspraxia, and this is certainly part of it. I get annoyed if I'm ever treated differently because of it - and thankfully, it barely happens - but I'm often hardest on myself. I want to prove - to myself, to others, who knows - that I can do things. I don't care about my aches and pains (it doesn't stop me walking), I don't care about my inability to catch a ball (seriously, I sit behind a desk all day, when am I ever going to need to catch a ball?) and I'm learning how to navigate new areas with confidence (not being afraid to ask for directions is something blokes have issues with, but I'm overcoming it).

    If you have dyspraxia, and reading this, then you'll have undoubtedly have experienced a combination of these issues yourself. I won't lie to you: they won't go away, but I'll let you into a secret. Mental attitude is as much a part of it as the condition itself; if you sit down and think, "Oh, well, I'm dyspraxic, I simply can't do that", then you won't. You'll never know how far you can push yourself. I thought that way for a long time, but then I started pushing myself - I started feeling the fear and doing it anyway - and I discovered a lot more about myself by doing that.

    There's a quote I rather like, and this blog post is partly an excuse to share it with you; "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." Eleanor Roosevelt said that - and I'll leave you now with that thought!