One of the hardest things to accept is the loss of independence when chronically ill. I have never liked asking for help, and now sometimes left with no choice, the words almost choke me if I need to ask for assistance. It can be some small errand that has been waiting and put off time and again, simply because I can't see to it myself. Simply buying a birthday card and getting to the post office to send it, requires so much organising, that I have, much to the apologies to my family, been reduced to sending e-mail greetings instead. Having forgotten to write an item on the grocery list for my daughter, I might find I'm missing one ingredient, but stuck and unable to get to any shop, it's frustrating, so I have to get creative adjusting a recipe and make do with what is in the pantry. It's often the small trivial things that drive me to distraction. This morning is a prime example; my husband dressed me before he left for work, and my daughter disappeared like a lightening bolt as she was running late, so before I knew it I was all alone in the house (apart from our dog). Although our dog assists me in many ways, there are limitations even to her abilities. Once everyone had left, I suddenly realised I hadn't brushed my hair, and my arm still very painful, I was unable to manage this very basic mundane task myself. So here I sit, typing with one finger on my rigid left hand, with a mass of un-brushed hair, resembling someone who has been pulled through a hedge backwards. I only hope no body drops in unexpectedly today!
If you would like to take a look at The Huffington Post, you'll see my latest article. It's Friday once again and the weekend is upon us. I haven't been out the entire week, so from someone who has cabin fever and shipwrecked at home alone - it's over and out from 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.