Yesterday I attended a memorial service — or as Nancy, spouse of the recently departed, prefers to say, “celebration of life” — for one of our support group members. In the 11+ years I’ve been facilitating support groups for adults with neuromuscular diseases, this is the first service I was invited to. Several members have passed away but often I found out much later. But Nancy has continued coming to the support group and feels a part of our “family.” I was delighted to see many familiar faces from our group.

The service was meaningful; we learned about Frank’s youth and several parts of his life that were never mentioned in our group. We had the opportunity to share our memories of him and remind Nancy of how much he loved her.

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The other day I was pausing in my car before heading to another errand and noticed a young man getting into the car next to me. He left the door open while he squeezed something into his hands. I realized he was pouring a hand sanitizer product into his palm and fiercely working it into both hands.

I was  momentarily impressed, for lack of a better word, that he was practicing good hygiene. Until I turned back toward him, moments later, to catch him lighting a cigarette and closing his car door.

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I can’t remember when I started doing yoga. I may have tried it for the first time during my college years in New York. Or, an introductory class I took in the late 80s in Fort Lauderdale. That is my earliest memory of doing yoga postures, or asanas, in a classroom environment.

I did start doing the seated lotus position when I was very young. Maybe all children can do this but I continued doing it and now it’s easy to maneuver into. It’s comforting to fold my legs into a pretzel.

But, I digress.

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In the last couple of weeks I added a new tool to my handbag. Wasn’t planning on it but came across one of those GripIt tools that has about 5 parts to open various containers. I haven’t used it yet but I do feel a greater sense of independence knowing I have it. Which got me to thinking about the other tools I’ve gathered over the years.

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Leslie at the acupuncture clinic

Leslie with acupuncture needles

This little play on words occurred to me earlier today as I lay prostrate with various needles in me. It’s a monthly habit. Sometimes there are good habits.

Several years ago a couple of acupuncture student interns were guest speakers at my MDA support group. They gave a little history of acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine and promoted a study. They were looking for people with mobility problems. At that time I didn’t qualify. But they discussed a number of ailments that acupuncture has proven helpful for. One of them was carpal tunnel syndrome (CTS).

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I’ve had the best of intentions to maintain at least a weekly blog…but..somehow…months have passed, and nothing’s been penned.

In early September I went to a Diabetes Summit in Sacramento and then a week later to the IDMC-7 in Würzburg, Germany. So much was swimming through my head…I have written, and mental, notes on lessons learned during these two events…but time has passed. Somehow I’ll address these, perhaps on the Resources Page.

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One of the great advantages to being a consultant and having time flexibility is the chance to attend daytime events. A couple of weeks ago I attended the Brain Health Symposium at San Francisco’s Commonwealth Club. Seven highly-qualified and fascinating guest speakers each presented about an area related to brain health. I’ll provide some of the highlights but I encourage you to visit the Commonwealth website to listen to a podcast if anything piques your interest.

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Today was a minor milestone; let’s call it a half-milestone. I purchased an assistive walking device. Brief history of my mobility:

I still walk, love to walk, and consider it a gift. I have tripped a lot but thankfully never hurt myself. In the last couple of years I’ve developed drop foot which is common for someone with MMD. This is why I sometimes trip; my feet just don’t have the pick-up and go like they used to.

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I was way into Self-Management before I knew anything about the term. My earliest memory of being in touch with how my body felt and trying to do something about it was in college. I’d spent most of my childhood feeling bloated after meals. I did love my mother’s cooking but dinner was the heaviest meal of the day and usually included some type of meat. I thought feeling like a beached whale was normal.

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