I have been writing poetry and stories since I was a child, and a love of reading was instilled in me from an early age. I am passionate about writing, and hope you enjoy the books I have written. Whilst most of you sleep soundly in your beds, like many Parkinson’s patients, insomnia dictates, so during those hours that sleep eludes me, the house is tranquil and quiet, an atmosphere perfect to immerse myself in writing. My life has been a series of strange events, which have without doubt contributed to my creativity. To publish anything is to bear one’s soul to the world. It is to stand naked and let everyone see who you really are. I have poured my heart and soul out on paper and I hope to share this journey, immersing you in a story, capturing your attention and firing the imagination. Through my writing and public speaking I hope to bring greater awareness to the general public about living with chronic disease.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Talking with a dear friend, agreeing we have little or no patience for people who make a mountain out of a mole hill; having both experienced ill health to its nth degree. My friend in the role of caregiver, and myself in the role as patient, leaves us with no tolerance for theatrics and hoo-hah that some people feel it necessary to exhibit. I have been in and out of hospital more times than I dare to count; experienced more than my fair share of surgery, probably had every test you can possibly imagine and sometimes feel like a human pin cushion! I remember some years ago, having my blood taken at a medical centre sitting there quietly and patiently, I suddenly heard a woman shrieking and several members of staff running around a lady, who looked like she was about to topple off the chair she was sitting on. It took a few nurses to lift the lady and lay her onto a nearby bed. Her husband took hold of her hand in a gentle manner, whilst he calmly spoke in a soothing way to her. The women had her hand clasped over her eyes which were tightly shut indicating she was in severe pain. As she continued to scream, I began to feel compassion for this lady who was clearly very distressed and in agony. I then noticed the nurses standing around her and from the expression on their faces could deduce that they had no empathy and were in fact looking cross and rather irritated as they briskly walked away. It transpired that this award winning performance she had put on for us all, was merely from having a simple blood test; a thin needle being inserted into her arm! I couldn't believe my eyes, and have never seen such an act before. Thankfully she did not honour us with a repeat performance, for there was no standing ovation, and like a show that obtained a bad review, it was a complete flop; her antics were unwelcome and poorly received.
Posted by Parkinson's, shaken, not stirred at 7:00 AM