Life with Neuropathy

My name is John and I have peripheral neuropathy. I drop at least one of my many pills every day. Not sure exactly why, but it happens. All the time now. And then I struggle to pick up what is far below me on the ground. With my joint issues, bending my knees and getting down to the floor is tough some days and impossible on others.  My mobility isn't what it used to be. Read more here .  I've spilled lots of things and have gotten to the point of expecting it to happen. Although I never want to make a mess. Still, I sometimes do. But on the plus side, if I drop something early in the day maybe I can go for a few hours without dropping anything else. Not particularly logical, but then neither is neuropathy.  Besides pills, I've dropped spinach leaves, baby carrots, cherry tomatoes, more pills, the lids to pills, crumbs, chocolate chips, tangerine peels, water and other liquids, potato chips, cashews, almonds, soap, my comb, my phone, my keys and more. It's always someth

Welcome to Life with Neuropathy. My name's John and I have peripheral neuropathy. Today let's talk about mobility. To give you a point of reference, less than a year ago I was enjoying the Daddy-Daughter dance at my child's wedding. Today I need a walker to get around. Find out more at Let's Talk about Changes .  A walker? Really? Read more about walkers here . To be honest I never thought that I'd even need a cane. Why was I so smug? No particular reason except that I'd always been relatively healthy so why would I start having problems with balance now? I'd never thought about the word neuropathy, didn't really know what it was. Or how it would change my entire world. Read more about my neuropathy journey at Let Me Introduce Myself .  To be honest, I've always had great difficulty finding comfortable shoes but that's how it's been since I started having to wear them. I grew up going barefoot mostly. I'd kick those shoes off as soon as

My name is John and I have peripheral neuropathy. This bony gentleman isn't afraid to bare his spine and neither was I. So let me share my personal experience with a lumbar puncture (affectionately known as an LP).  Never in my life would I have considered that I might be tapped to share a generous portion of my cerebral spinal fluid to allow vital tests to be run. But that's what the doctor ordered. And I couldn't avoid it.   Honestly, I worked up the situation in my head to be a horror film kind of encounter. You know -- after much struggle and screaming, I would be strapped to a table and then someone would shove a needle into my spine. This, of course, would paralyze me while the unsavory locals stole my wallet, walker, and water bottle.   But it turned out to be a much more banal experience. I was rolled from one room to another way down the hall and then had to roll from one bed to another. After that I tried to get comfortable on my stomach as my back was prepared fo