Balance Test and Clubbing

For anyone who read my previous post, Anatomy of the Awkward Crippled White Man's Dance, I made it clear that though I may look funny, I still love to dance. I got a chance to practice these ''skills'', at the birthday celebration of an amazing friend of mine. We went to a dance club in Norfolk, got on the dance floor to the techno-remix of every pop-icon of the last 40 years, and danced till we dropped. It was a blast! I took one cane on to the dance floor and showed that my hips and body may not be as nimble as I used to be, but I can still move to the beat.

I got a good workout, moving my body in ways it hasn't moved in years. This is proof of what everyone has told me again and again, that my improvement is become more clear and obvious every day.

I've even had official tests to prove the point. One test that has now been performed three separate times, twice after surgery and once this past week, is the Berg's Balance Test. This test involves performing various tasks (standing, sitting, picking things off the floor) that require various amounts of balance. The first time I took the test I scored in the low 30's (out of 56), not bad considering I was fresh out of surgery. I then went through a week of intense physical therapy after surgery and at the end of the week I performed the balance test again; I gained a few points, putting me in the high 30's (out of 56).

Almost two months after surgery, my physical therapists decided to perform the Berg's Balance test again to see how far I had progressed. I scored in the high 40's, gaining 10 points and improving in almost every category. Now that I'm allowed to bend, twist, and lift over 10 lbs I've been able to push myself once again. I'm getting stronger, my balance is better, and everything is looking up.

I'm enjoying this period of optimism and excitement. Every one who has seen me on a regular basis has remarked how my walking, standing, balancing, posture, etc., was looking better. I've been raised to be humble and not let success go to my head; so I'll keep plugging along. My prediction for this time next year I'll be walking onto the dance floor instead of awkwardly limping on. I can't promise you'll really want watch, since it's still likely to be pretty strange looking. So here's a message to all those watching silently from the sides: If this weirdo got onto the dance floor, why are YOU waiting on the sidelines?