Can I get any slower?

I did have just one speed, and that speed was super-fast. This was of course in the years BPD (Before Parkinson’s disease)! Now days it’s quite a different story and I often feel like I’m walking through glue. It takes great effort and persistence to get things done, and even achieving and completing the smallest of tasks sadly becomes a huge accomplishment.

A friend of mine, who is a fellow Parkinson’s sufferer, coined the phrase “living in the slow lane” which perfectly epitomizes how every part of our lives literally becomes smaller and slows down due to this lousy disease. Whether one likes it or not, and no matter how much one does to deter Parkinson’s python like grasp over the body, sometimes it’s just not enough to ward off the natural course of progression and deterioration.

It’s most definitely not a choice, but I’ve suddenly found myself living in the slow lane, along with my friend and no doubt millions of others around the world. To put it mildly – it kind of stinks. This is not what I envisaged at the age of 51, and my life has taken a completely different course than the one I envisaged. I’ve had enough of living in the slow lane. I want to be a shiny bright red Lamborghini, flying down the highway at top speed, but instead I am slow like an old fashioned English milk float that crawls at a snail’s pace in the early morning, making its rounds delivering pints of milk in the neighbourhood. I’m showing my age, for I don’t think these electric delivery vans even exist anymore.

Have you ever wondered why you end up with an odd sock after doing the laundry. Where does the other sock go to? Never give up hope!