About me

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.

Friday, April 26, 2013

A dog's word

Let me introduce myself; I'm Elaine's dog, and today she has given me the opportunity of speaking. Although dogs can't really talk, she pretty much knows what goes on in my canine head and so I thought I'd tell you what its like to live with my pack or as you humans say "family" along with Parkinson.

I first started hearing the name "Parkinson" about six years ago, when I was a growing young adolescent pup. At first I thought it was a disliked long lost relative who uninvited was coming to live with us, and for ever it appeared! My vocabulary for a dog is quite extent, yet I wasn't too sure who or what  this "Parkinson" really was. It was certainly disrupting the household, which until then had been much like any other family home.

I started to pay closer attention to my owner, as she appeared to have something wrong with her leg, and our walks became slower and slower. Not that I minded, for I'm always willing and eager to go for a walk with her, but found now I had time to sniff every single bush and tree as we crept along at a snails pace. The walks became shorter too, and then one day, she took me completely by surprise and fell, laying face down in the sand. I immediately ran over to her and by licking her face thoroughly  and a second time for good measure, I could see she was alive. For some reason she was having difficulty getting up, and although I have been trained to do various tasks, I was at a loss for what was expected of me. Fortunately, my instincts told me to stand next to her shoulders. I allowed her to put her full body weight (she really should lay off the sweets!) on my broad shoulders so that she could get up. Receiving lots of praise, I knew I had done the right thing, and now whenever I see her laying on the floor, I help her up.

My duties in the home also increased, not that I minded, in fact I was happy to help out. My help and expertise at clearing up food spilt on the kitchen floor is appreciated beyond measure. A kind of maternal instinct that I didn't even know I had, seemed to kick in and I found myself tuned in to my owner's feelings and needs. There are days where she doesn't want to play with me, or go for a walk, and doesn't even laugh when I perform my party trick of chasing my tail, which I have to say, normally brings the house down, but she didn't laugh or even smile. I found I could no longer rely on her facial expressions to know what she was feeling or thinking. Somehow the lines on her face and her eyebrows did not move as they once did, and as a dog I found this quite disconcerting.

When I see her eyes leak, that's when I know I'm needed, and right away I'm at her side. I lay my chin on her lap and look up into her wet face. She begins to stroke me and I know this makes her feel better, so I sit still next to her and comfort my favourite human in a way only a dog can.

No comments:

Post a Comment