Last Saturday Grandpa fell while he was out getting the mail. It wasn’t the first time he has fallen. In fact, several weeks ago I had suggested that he might want to start using the cane down in the basement because of the difficulty he had walking and keeping his balance, and because of the regularity with which he fell. At the time he demurred, saying something equivalent to “No not now, maybe later . . . some other time.”
I think Grandpa didn’t want to use the cane because that was admitting defeat. It was admitting a state of decrepitness which, so long as he didn’t use a cane, he could tell himself, “Well, I’m not that bad.”
It is a milestone. A cane is a clear and vivid statement about one’s strength and ability. I’m not even sure Grandpa intended to start using it now. He asked after the cane after he fell, but A. said he may have only been wanting to make sure it was around and only started using because he got flustered when it was brought to him.
Whatever the case, Grandpa took to it fast enough and there has been no looking back. I think once he had it in his hands he realized how much more secure it made him feel and once the inhibition was overcome it no longer felt like such a big deal. Now Grandpa uses the cane like an old pro, poking his way about the house.
I would like to think the cane will keep Grandpa from falling. In truth, I’m not so sure. He forgets his cane about half the time, and that is perhaps the most likely time for him to fall. But at least for right now it makes him feel more comfortable moving about, and that is a good thing.