Rather abruptly, I find myself depending on a Rollator, not only the little one in the house, but -- having got up the nerve -- a three-wheeled affair I can store in the car myself and trundle around in public. I will not call them walkers, which brings to mind those aluminum thingies the old ladies danced with in The Producers.
At any rate --
Every now and then I wonder, am I just faking? Couldn't I just straighten up and walk? And over the past few months, when I get the chance, I ask a Professional. It's the answers that make me smile. They remind me of the days when newspapers would offer widely varying viewpoints, and it all depended on which one you read:
The podiatrist --covered by Medicare! -- says the problem is due to peripheral neuropathy (I do enjoy that term, the way the syllables roll off the tongue) -- my feet just don't feel the floor that much.
The orthopedist says it's because there's no socket left in the right hip. He points to an xray that means nothing to me and says "It's a combination of that and your back."
At a recent meeting of the Hearing Loss Society of Rochester (why does my son think that's a funny name?) I put the question to our speaker, an eminent neurologist. It's related to to hearing loss, he said, and tinnitus, inner ear degeneration, the way you report hearing chimes when you turn your head.
Then last week I had a routine call-back with the cardiologist (things are just fine, not to worry) and he said balance problems are a side effect of those blood pressure pills. But don't stop taking them. It seems they've moved the goal posts once more and the bp recommendations are lower again.
So it comes back to What Paper D'Ya Read -- and whotthehell, there's a dance in the old dame yet.