ARCed Balance is More Multidimensional Than I Thought

Through most of my life my idea of balance was a general notion of being able to be upright and steady. In a physiology course I learned that the organ that enabled balance was a complex vestibular body located in the inner ear. The other day, a physical therapist taught me that it is three pronged: vestibular, vision and proprioception.   ARCs (age related changes) affecting balance tended to begin in one’s 40’s. And through it all balance seemed to me to be a generic, unitary function—being securely upright.

As the balance ARC crept silently into my life, I became increasingly aware of reaching out to put my hand on a solid surface to “steady myself”. But if I thought about it at all, it still was about uprightness and steadiness and found myself being curious about how it would manifest itself as the ARC progressed.

Well, that curiosity is now being satisfied. And (as with so many other realities of aging), it brought its surprises. It proved to be not just one entity. No, it was far more complex than that. It manifested itself in separate capacities which impacted specific daily activities linked to high risk locales. Different adaptive strategies were needed for each.

Six risk activities appeared to be altered by my Balance ARC, turning, centering, bending, dealing with darkness instability when moving about and now, even when standing.

Turning: when my head and body/feet faced in different directions and the difference was greater than 90° “tippiness” and physiological “near-fall“ sensations (an instant nasty gut reaction without the subsequent fall). The highest risk area proved to be my kitchen with work areas on all four sides. Adaptation: Say/think “Nose&Toes!” to remind me to keep face and feet pointing in the same direction. (blog 11/16/17) To move objects about, slide them on nearby/adjoining surfaces. With 180° or greater turns, find intermittent surfaces to allow for reorienting one’s feet.

Centering was essential when moving from sitting to standing, after turning, when picking up or carrying items, or being hugged. (9/5/18) Adaptations: Say/think/do “Center yourself!” before engaging in the affecting behavior. Brace the body before lifting an object large/heavy enough to pull one off-center. Hold objects close to the body when moving. Alert huggers to the risks of pulling one off center or brace part of the body against something solid before hugs. Most recently, even merely standing triggers teetering. Now that’s really scary for the increasing risks it portends.

Bending:  during any activity below waist level, e.g. bed making, picking up/dealing with objects on low shelves or the floor. Adaptations: Brace one hand or body part against a solid object during the activity (e.g. lower legs resting against mattress in bed making, sit on walker to deal with things on lower shelves or picking up objects from the floor). Last resort: ask someone else to do the job.

Dealing with darkness: this challenge to balance occurs most for me in the living room where evenings are spent. Adaptation: Get up and turn on the wall switch before turning off the lamp. Turn on/off lights upon entering/leaving a room. Turn on night lights before retiring. Keep a working flashlight on the bedside stand in case of a blackout.

Needing hand contact with my walker or body contact with a solid surface in order to feel secure. Riskiest when getting up during the night and when moving about open space in the kitchen. Adaptation: Keep the walker within arm’s reach at all times. When both hands are needed for an activity, lean lower body on available solid objects (e.g. counters). Use a tray on the walker seat to transport objects about in open spaces. (4/26/18)

Being constantly mindful of my balance when I’m just standing still, even in the midst of everything or anything else, is a new reality that’s demanding adaptation. Hopefully an upcoming new physical therapy regimen will at least slow this ARC, perhaps even reverse it a bit.

An Engaging with Aging Logo and Its Interpretation

Recently, the idea came to me that it might be possible to create a logo that would display and encompass Engaging with Aging as presented in this blog. I found that I could identify the elements and their relationships. But translating them into a little logo was totally beyond me. My younger son came to the rescue and offered the talents of a young artist in his company. I shared the ideas. In a month Michael created this logo.

The circular area symbolizes the world of daily living as the ager is experiencing it, seeks to understand and engages with it. This “world” surrounds the aging insider wherever that daily living is occurring. It becomes the basis for the “engaging” activities. Outsiders’ visions of the same experience may or may not be congruent with those of the insider.

The perimeter has multiple openings to permit outsiders’ contributions to enter the ager’s world and the insider to reach out and interact directly or virtually with others’ worlds.

The river of aging wends its way through the countryside of the ager’s daily living and inevitably out to the sea. All rivers of aging have in common: changing currents, obstacles, white water and waterfalls to be navigated.   But each individual’s river of aging is unique in its length, currents, obstacles, white water and waterfalls. The ager has options to go with the flow, or to actively seek to “read the river” and actively navigate it, as capacities allow.

The green leaf symbolizes ongoing “greenness” as new experiences and challenges test capacities and offer opportunities for personal growth, even as capacities are altered by normal age related changes (ARCs) and pathology.

The individual in the center is the engager. The nature of engagement will depend on levels of interest, courage, and cognitive and physical capacities. Others may help out by identifying blind spots, enhancing the engager’s resources, supporting in ways to make engaging possible, easier or more effective. But only the engager can do the engaging.

The sun is the symbol of the life force that makes possible the engaging. Bright or dim, its light and outward rays affect all parts of the engager’s world. Its rays reach out to outsiders as well.

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In this Engaging with Aging blog I’ve applied the ideas of this logo to the elderly. But the reality is that infants begin engaging with aging and daily living from the moment they are born.   So this logo, its elements and relationships are equally usable at any age. Yet-to-be-agers and care providers who are interacting with others of any age can find its elements and the relationships between them a useful perspective for shaping their expectations and interaction.

100th Blog Posting: A Time to Look Back and Ahead

It’s still hard to believe that I (a social media troglodyte) began writing a blog at the age of 95. I’m so grateful for the two people who made it come to life. The one who believed I had something to write about and the creative expert who generously and dependably takes care of the technical aspects each week.

I know it’s true, but it’s rather mind-boggling to realize that in the two years since that first posting (mid-August, 2017) I’m posting my 100^th blog post. And there are more in varying states in the queue.

What a journey it has been! Such unanticipated impacts on my life! Writing to you has sharpened my own “engaging” skills. It’s one thing to engage with aging casually, harder to do it purposefully, and even harder to put it into words that will make sense and be usable to others. Thinking about this blog has become a red thread in the tapestry of my life as I interweave my ARCed aging capacities with daily living demands and then write about it. I wake in the morning, ideas churning, eager to start the day. The activity has changed and continues to change me. Others have commented that I seem younger and more vibrant at 97 than I was at 95, and it rings true (even as I obviously age).

As I began thinking about writing a blog, I saw myself as a female ager writing from my encounters in engaging with aging as I gain insights. I am definitely not an expert on aging in general, just mine! I am limited in my vision by the reality that I am a remarkably healthy former RN/faculty member/writer and widowed nonagenarian, living alone in a home she owns, with two supportive sons, their wives and three granddaughters (all of whom live within a few miles). I realized that my blog would reflect my blind spots about aging in other circumstances. So there would be no “how to’s”, just vignettes of my own EWA encounters, reactions and insights. We all are being carried down the river of aging, but each of us has our own river to navigate and our own approaches.

With these caveats in mind I decided that I would:

• offer my experiences, insights and ideas as potential points of departure for the reader’s own unique situation and capacities.
• limit my focus to EWAing with normal age-related changes (ARCs) precisely because I didn’t have pathology and its treatment interwoven with my normal ARCs and daily living.   My thinking is that ARC-affected capacities are what any ager brings to living with an overlay of pathology and its management. (Care providers need to know about them too.)
• view the aging experience broadly while giving the health element its necessary place
• focus on the impact of ARCs on the details of everyday living. Again, because I was living with these nasty snags. (Besides outsiders to the world of the aged were researching and writing about ARCs, but it takes an insider to see their personal impact.)
• use a “light” approach in my writing style in line with my belief that data are neutral, including data on one’s emotional-laden responses to aging and its effects
• seek images to enhance the ideas to stretch the reader’s mind

Looking ahead, I foresee postings that reflect my accumulating, progressing ARCs, their effects that are creating increasingly difficult challenges and the constant, conscious adaptations that fill the minutes and hours of my day. I’ll continue to share what I can of my ongoing journey.

When I no longer can, let’s agree that, “To everything there is a season. . . .”

I am so grateful to those of you who join me on my blogging efforts by commenting or otherwise giving me feedback.   I feel like Longfellow’s archer who “ . . . shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where. . .”.   Your input lets me know where at least some of them land. Beyond that I value your reactions and learn from your comments. Let’s move on together.