Me and Wii (part three)

Now we're getting somewhere. I finally worked up a sweat with my machine. Who would have guessed that Hula Hooping was so aerobic? Or so maddening. Having PD really brings out the bumps and the grind of the old bump-and-grind. What looks so easy to do is mysteriously difficult for me. And seriously addictive. I went for 45 minutes, by the end of which I was panting and sweating.

Those 45 minutes were logged desperately attempting to keep the damn hoop from trickling out of momentum and spiraling down to my ankles, whereupon my avatar (the figure representing me onscreen) would look a mite sheepish and affect an unfazed attitude while a sign flashed "Failed... Failed... Failed". Ouch.

The Wii seems to have a split personality. The machine has several ways it tries to make nice. A recurring figure as you go through the various menus and activities is an animated version of the balance board that is obsequious and eager as a puppy, all quivers and goo-goo eyes. And as you struggle with activities helpful tips appear onscreen "The trick is to swing your hips in a neat, wide circle" Then out of nowhere, Dr. Jekyll morphs into Mr. Hyde. The machine turns around and brutally labels you a failure for not being able to magically keep an imaginary hoop of plastic out of the clutches of imaginary gravity. One expects to look down suddenly to find the obsequious imaginary balance board having an imaginary go at one's imaginary leg.

I'm beginning to feel a little like John Henry, the steel drivin' railroad man, competing with the steam drill with his human dignity on the line. How about it, Wii? Why not offer spike driving as an aerobic choice? Hammer's gonna be the death of me, Lord, Lord, Hammer's gonna be the death of me.

(Looking for part one? It's right here. And part two? That's here.)

Me and Wii (part two)

(Want to read part one first? find it here.) Undaunted by my first round of insults and humiliation, I returned to my Wii for more fitness fun. Chastened and a bit guarded as a result of my first encounter, I turned it on and prepared to work up a sweat. Things got off on the wrong foot when it noted that I hadn't been using it for a day or so, leaving the unspoken accusation that I was less than serious about my desire to reach the goal we so painstakingly agreed on during my first session. There being no way of registering excuses on the machine, I couldn't protest that I had in fact been working out on my trusty and discreet elliptical trainer. There was no way to disabuse the Wii of the notion that I had been slacking.

Anxious to prove how eager I am to do better, I attempted to cut to the chase and exercise. Once again I was sidetracked from this simple goal by the machine. It now wanted me to pick a personal trainer. I had my choice of bland young male virtual trainer or bland young female virtuall trainer. Sadly, sadistic gym coach with a beer gut and Precambrian sense of humor was not one of the options. Ah well, there are parts of my youth I'd just as soon not recapture. I picked the bland young man and selected Yoga for the activity.

I did some elementary poses, the machine assuring me from time to time that I was doing well. But instead of achieving inner peace, I attained only inner peace's evil twin, inner boredom. So I swapped in the disc with the winter games on it and ran a few dozen trips down the giant slalom course. After numerous high-speed misadventures which in the real world would have left me maimed or worse, I believe I found one way that the world of virtual exercise surpasses the real one: Virtual pain is preferable to real pain.

Deprived of the ability to inflict physical pain, the ever-resourceful Wii resorted again to mental cruelty. My avatar, the figure which represented me on the screen, would make one of our typically disastrous runs, missing gates and straying into the fence line (the death count among innocent bystanders would have been impressive in a more violence-oriented game where senseless killing is rewarded with points. Unfortunately, there is no "Wii Ski-Halo, Alpine Mayhem", at which I would excel). At the end of the run, after crossing the finish line in disgrace, my avatar would pump its little virtual fists and carry on as if it had just established a new world's record. Was this merely clueless or devastatingly sarcastic? Whichever, it was certainly embarrassing.

Let's be charitable. There is another possibility. Perhaps it was thanking the Silicon Gods that, given my skill level, it wasn't being loaded into a tiny cartoon ambulance and rushed off to a virtual hospital where it would languish for months on virtual life support until its stricken family agreed it was never going to wake up from its electronic coma, and pulled the plug. Feeling merciful, I didn't pull the plug, but I did turn it off.

Support Group Update for January

Hello friends, Yes it's time for the January PD update. It's a bold new year and your support group motto for 2011 is "No Fear!" Our next meeting will be January 15. Our guest will be juggler Jim Kerr, who will provide us with tips on balance. That's Jim in the clip above juggling fire, and the background music is also Jim, conjuring up musical fire. You can see that this will be a meeting you won't want to miss!


On January 10 there will be a telehealth presentation at Providence hospital called "Take charge of your medications". Look for this event in room 2401 at 1:00 p.m.

Best to each of you in 2011,

Pete

Me and Wii (Part One)

I'm old enough to remember when television was supposed to be bad for us. I'm almost old enough to forget this as well, but let's not dwell on that sad state of affairs. Instead, I want to dwell on a different sad state of affairs. Now where was I?... oh yes, TV... Nowadays we don't have mere television, we have interactive video gaming, which is supposed to help us parkies with balance and fitness. It's TV that, darn it, is good for you! Ever eager to mix the unmixable, in this instance fun, and Parkinson's Disease, I obtained a Wii and a balance board. I then plugged in, turned on, and prepared to enjoy a rollicking workout.

The Wii had other plans. It began by asking me a series of questions about my height, age, and weight. Then it asked me to step up on the balance board while it did a little calculating. That done, it proceeded to tell me I am 22 pounds overweight and 65 years old in Wii Years! I'm 52.

You know you are living in modern times when your possessions can insult you.

A bit nonplussed, I let it slide and prepared to take a simple balance test. I don't mean to brag but I think that my balance is pretty good, considering my circumstances. I felt confident about my performance on the test. My machine begged to differ "I guess balance is not your forté" the machine informed me, dripping cyber sarcasm all over my misguided little sense of adequacy. I had to check the game box and make sure I didn't have a copy of "Wii Insult Comic" but it assured me that I had "Wii Fit".

Then the machine turned all fake-concerned and asked me if I wanted to lose weight, and if so, how much and how fast. This led to protracted negotiations and much refinement of my button-pushing skills. Great way to lose weight, button pushing. Finally we arrived at mutually agreeable goals. I was left to reflect that I never got along with coaches well, and in that sense, virtual reality was eerily similar to real reality. The main difference was that instead of being abused by a hairy man with a huge beer gut and a Precambrian sense of humor, I was being abused by a virtual icon of a piece of plastic electronic equipment with no beer gut and no sense of humor. It was then I remembered my forté, and, coordinating my deft right arm with my exquisitely nimble 65- year-old hand, I turned the little SOB off.

"We Are All Entitled To Move" Mark Morris' Modern Dance Troupe Teaches People With Parkinson's to Reclaim Motion

Thanks to Celete Huber and my brother Dave for flagging this for us.

Pete's Parkinson's Portraits- Terry Thomas

Terry Thomas was a British comic actor. According to Wikipedia, he was especially well-known for his work in the 1960's films like "Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines" and "Monte Carlo or Bust". He was noted for his roles as a classic British upper-class cad and bounder.

Telling Our Story, Telling it Well

Just when your jaded view has almost permanently hardened, along comes something so well done and so true it shocks you into a new appreciation of the reach of human creative expression. This is a video from the recent World Parkinson's Congress in Glasgow, Scotland. The Congress invited people to submit videos to dramatize and explain Parkinson's Disease " to raise awareness about Parkinson's and to put a face on the disease while having a little fun at the same time. Nearly 50 people from 15 countries submitted videos". This entry from dancer Pamela Quinn tied for the top spot. You can find links to all the videos here

Among The Lucky Of The Unlucky

"An ambulance can only go so fast" - Neil Young

Our band was taking a quick break, a man jumped on stage and took my hand. "I heard you on the radio he said. Then he dumbfounded me by calling my interview "Brave".

Brave? Me?

You must have me confused with someone else. Someone with nothing to lose. Someone who isn't worried every day that he is finally seeing the end of his ability to drive, to draw, to write, to make music, to make love, to do, to be. Someone like... whom? Like someone who hasn't been paying attention.

I've been paying enough attention to realize I am at least among the lucky of the unlucky. I respond well to the medications available. We have the insurance to pay for expensive pills and surgery. With continued luck and discipline, the worst will be held at bay while I go on appreciating what my friend Janet calls "The finer miseries of Parkinson's".

How different does that make me from anybody else? Who isn't pushing their rock up a hill? Who Lives more than a phone call away from tragedy? Who doesn't depend on the fine calculation of other drivers on the road to keep a trip to the grocery store from becoming a trip to the emergency room? Who doesn't carry some rogue cell, a bit of themselves that will rebel and fester until it overwhelms the life it is a part of?

Herman Melville wrote of the whalers in a harpoon party at sea. Fragile men in a fragile boat, rowing toward a Sperm Whale to kill it with a small spear of iron and wood attached to a rope. The rope threaded throughout the boat and when a whale was struck the line jerked alive with deadly speed. The rope could snatch away a life or a limb on board the boat with impersonal lethality. Melville knew that we all are surrounded by such ropes and thought that a whaler was at least fortunate enough to see them.

Most of us are at least dimly aware of these ropes. Much of what we do every day is spent at some level trying to elude or escape them. To see the rope is to fear it less, to know where not to step, to keep a hand clear. What is truly frightening is what you do not know: Where the whale is, what it will do next. Facing this is the bravery required of each of us, and it is the price of a good life. This price is the same whether you are diagnosed or not. Diagnosis is merely to be shown one of the ropes.

Bryn Williams' address to the World Parkinson's Congress

Bryn Williams maks the case for urgenccy at the recent World Parkinson's Congress in Glasgow. You can visit his terrific web site for more from this passionate and optimistic man.

Southcentral Alaska Parkinson's Forecast for December

Peter D-S here with the Parkinson's forecast for December. Looks like we can expect mild to moderate Parkinson's activities for the dark month of December. Heaviest activity expected, next week with a Telehealth presentation of the Tremble Cleffs (REALLY!) singing holiday songs and an account of experiences at the second World Parkinson's conference in Glasgow. Look for this event at Providence Hospital room 2401 Dec. 13 at 1:00. The following Saturday, the 18th of December3:30 at the Pioneer Home, we will have our annual Holiday potluck. Pam and I will bring something main dish-like, everybody else bring something tasty of your choosing.

Looking into January, we will have a special presentation from my buddy Jim Kerr, who will give us tips on balancing. Jim teaches juggling (among other things,) and balance is a fundamental.