Parkinson’s is a strange beast. It creeps up on you really slowly, like children in my youth playing that old game, ‘What time is it, Mr. Wolf?’ Like the wolf it too has teeth. Recently I’ve noticed I’m slower, bending is sometimes hard. My neurologist thankfully explained that my progression is still considered slow. I am stable. I don’t always feel that way. Not that I’m not stable on my feet, though many in my situation struggle with balance. But rather I sometimes feel like I’m no longer the person in control of this. Instead I’m now fighting the invisible, unseen and uninvited disease that is destroying the nuero receptors in my brain. Now I write this down and re read it, it looks so depressing. Even now, my hands aren’t working as I’d like, I’m waiting for the pill I’ve taken to kick in.

The pills. Still not too many, yet enough to count. Enough to make me feel despondent sometimes. Enough so I look at the small pile of pills (just three. but three more than a healthy person) and a pang of sadness rushes through me that I cannot really operate properly without their aid. How wonderful it must be to just get on with your life without medication. To NEED it, to not be able to get by without it, it’s a bit of a curse. Everywhere you go you wonder if you can make it. “Will I need to take pills?” Invariably, the answer is yes,” because it is awful to get caught out without the right pills. Suddenly you find your symptoms returning fast. In my case, I cannot walk easily. I go slow, I cannot bend over. I do not work.

Yet if I’m to continue my life in any meaningful way I must overcome. It’s not easy, it never is, but it’s worth it to still be able to walk – most of the time – with relative ease. It’s worth it to be able to play with my children, to run, to dance, to have fun. Fun is so important. It is to me anyhow. It’s what keeps me going. That and focusing on the positives. Today I went out with Mr D. He gets tired. So tired. We picked up an online purchase from a house in the city, then visited a mall to do some Christmas shopping. We finished off with a couple of errands. He’s wrecked. Visibly tired, fighting grumpiness and not in a great mood. I said “I’ve had a great afternoon with you, it’s been wonderful.” He replied that he felt tired and awful. I said “I can tell. Yet I can focus on the bad stuff, that I’m tired, you’re even more tired, etc etc. Or I can be happy we’ve had a great afternoon together.”

And that, my dear friends, is it really.

Keep pushing, keep pushing back HARD. Exercise. Even though you don’t want to. Even though you hate it, exercise. You do have time, you just didn’t try hard enough to find 60 mins.

Smile. Laugh. Life is good. Even if you have Parkinson’s.

Until next time.