Sometimes I wobble—it may look like I’m about to fall, but it’s just a wobble. I’m finding my balance. My mind and my body are making the correction together. But people just can’t help themselves. They have an atavistic response to any aberrant motion. If I catch my toe on the carpet and trip, immediately someone shouts, “Be careful!” I am being careful, and it’s too late, anyway. Their advice is well-intentioned, but I feel a subtle shaming. As if my goal is to trip and break my other arm. It hits me like the “Did I do this to myself?” guilt that I worked through after my Parkinson’s
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