Did you know that Frontotemporal Dementia can cause loss of balance and loss of stability when walking or moving? Neither did I. I knew I was experiencing these issues, but since I have always been a little bit of a klutz, I figured it was just getting worse as I got older. The last time I was evaluated, it was explained to me that is definitely part of my FTD. It was a relief, but also downright scary, not knowing how much worse it would get. I am, so far, successfully dealing with it with a few modifications to my life and my self-image. I make sure I hang on to my husband's hand or arm when walking, as well as my sister when I am with her. When shopping, I hold onto the cart. When walking around our property, especially on the uneven parts, I use a walking stick that my dad had made for my grandfather many years ago. I love that stick, so I'm okay with that but sure not mentally ready to accept a cane.
I have always been stubbornly independent. If anyone else could do it, I could do just as well or better. My dad made sure I knew how to do basic house repairs, how to change the oil in my car and many other things. My husband worked very long hours, often six or seven days a week. I happily took over doing things that needed to be done... plumbing repairs, simple electrical repairs and was willing to try just about anything.
Problem is, I still think I can. We are having new block retaining walls installed, so I thought it would look good to spruce up the wooden stairs leading up to our deck by painting them with the new Super Deck paint (great stuff, by the way). Being the independent cuss I am, I declined my husband's assistance. The steps go up an ivy-covered bank, so to get to the sides, I managed it just fine by staying seated on the bank, keeping my weight on the ground as I scooted down the hill. I was pretty proud of myself! Once I was done with the sides and the handrails, all that was left was doing the stair treads... should have been the easy part. Not for me! A third of the way down, I needed to go to the bottom to fill my paint container from the gallon can. I thought I had been pretty smart not tamping down the lid on the can so it would be easier to open when I needed more. It was. Only problem, walking down the stairs without being able to grab onto the side rail was a mistake. I fell down a couple steps, kicking the gallon of paint and succeeding only in painting the driveway a beautiful color, embarrassing myself in front of the wonderful guys who are building the walls and making my body all kinds of stiff and sore. No real damage done... the driveway is scheduled to be seal-coated which will cover the paint spill, the men came over and helped me up and to rescue as much of the paint as we could so that there was enough to finish the job. The difficult part was swallowing a little bit of my pride and admitting that I am, indeed, NOT invincible.
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