Battle Weary

As Parkinson’s runs its course, I am forced into battle day and night. I’ve been fighting this relentless disease for 11 years, but the last three years have been particularly hard and are starting to take their toll on my husband and myself. In the early stages of Parkinson’s, I managed to cope, but as time passed, I was experiencing more “off” than “on” times and had no quality of life.

It was on 5^th November 2017, that I changed from oral medications to Duodopa which comes in a jell form administered by a pump directly into the small intestine. Despite Duodopa being a life changer – it is not a cure and doesn’t stop Parkinson’s from getting worse. However, it has given me better quality of life and has bought me time.

My caregiver is my devoted husband, and I cannot think of a harder job. Together we fight Parkinson’s but are becoming battle weary. My husband has taken a long overdue break and gone away for one week to re-charge his internal batteries from a physical and emotional sense. My daughter and her husband, along with family and friends together have me covered for the week, taking care of me and ensuring I’m not alone.

Yes, I miss him terribly, but I know how much he needs a rest and to take time out from our incredibly difficult situation. I want to thank all those who made this possible – we are extremely grateful. This break also allows him to attend the wedding of our dear friend’s daughter. I’m sorry I couldn’t join in the celebrations, but I’ll be there in spirit and wish the young couple congratulations.

As Time Goes By

They say a watched kettle never boils. The same could be said when unable to fall asleep in bed at night. I keep glancing at the clock and watch the minutes slowly pass, one by one. I can hear the loud ticking of our carriage clock in the lounge that chimes on the hour, and once every half an hour.

How I wish I had a little of Tinkerbell’s fairy dust, for I’d sprinkle some over me, think happy thoughts and fly out into the night. I’m not too sure where Neverland is, but there are no ticking clocks and time stands still, Peter Pan and the lost boys have escaped the cruel reality of this world. Surely this has to be one place that Parkinson’s does not exist.

The stronger I fight Parkinson’s, the stronger this lousy disease seems to retaliate. I’m having a daily tug of war with an unworthy opponent.