Our house is beginning to look like
a hospital rather than a regular home. There is often a traffic jam around the
kitchen island. At a quick glance, one couldn’t fail to notice the presence of
a wheelchair, a walker (Zimmer frame) a pair of crutches, and various pill
boxes, i.v. stands, an assortment of medical apparel and emergency numbers
along with prescriptions on the fridge door.
One might wonder why we have non-matching
chairs in the lounge, and should you happen to spend an evening in our household,
you’ll likely participate in playing Parkinson’s musical chairs. You’ve never
heard of Parkinson’s musical chairs? Well
let me explain. Similar to the children’s party game, only there is no music and there,has to be at least one
person present, who suffers from Parkinson’s disease. I spend most evenings moving
from chair to chair, alas in vein, hoping to find a comfortable position.
We have tried to find an armchair
that is comfortable for me and being short, it’s not easy finding a chair with
small dimensions. We thought we’d found one, and bought it, but once at home, I
found it wasn’t as comfortable as I had thought in the shop. We couldn’t return
it, and so this was the first of a succession of chairs in our quest for the
perfect chair.
Sitting in a chair on display in a shop
has likely been sat on by hundreds of customers and can feel completely different
from the brand new one delivered straight from the manufacturer to your house wrapped
in its protective plastic. After a further unsuccessful purchase of another
chair, I began to realise, it’s not the chair that’s the problem, but yours truly.
It’s as if I don’t feel comfortable in my body. So our quest for a comfortable
chair has come to an end, and each evening I continue to move from chair to chair.
