Parkinson’s: How Is Your Living
Snarky Parky & me
A Journey Into Parkinson's with Nancy MellonBlog Coordinated by Corrine Bayraktaroglu
How Is Your Living?
A Guest Post by Tracy Wright
It was a typical Thanksgiving milieu with clusters of family and friends gathered in various corners catching up, children of assorted sizes mingling independent of parental hovering, and the wonderfularomas of the traditional Thanksgiving dishes infused with love and shared with joy. The place was happy, and I was, too. I was out. I have become somewhat of a home body, and this was a major event for me. I suspect most of my neighbors think it’s because of Parkinson’s that I stay home so much, but it’s really not—it’s because I work from home on my computer and phone. Also I don’t drive much, anymore. I do have a car but am unwilling to drive it farther than I can walk home if it breaks. (I tried to have it fixed and was told it wasn’t worth doing.) I also don’t drive after twilight because of vision issues in one eye which have nothing to do with Parkinson’s.
So there I was enjoying the family event when someone sat next to me, leaned in and asked, almost in a whisper, “So how are you doing?” My quick reply was “Great.” I was. No tremors because my meds were working. No arthritic knee problems that weren’t managed by my cane. Good food and family.
Great.
Somehow I had not answered her question. So she slid closer and lowered her voice to sound more serious. “No, I mean, how are you doing?” “I assume you mean with Parkinsons?” I replied, confused, because clearly she could see me and tell how I was doing. She nodded. And then I made an error in judgment and tried to explain that I don’t have time to be ‘doing’ anything with Parkinson’s. I take meds, sure, so I can do my life. I live alone, still work, have bills to pay, and other things to do. There are days when I realize I haven’t even thought about the “P” word--it is just time to take a pill.
I realized a long time ago that if I started thinking about Parkinson’s, it could consume my whole day.
I’ve tested and proven that with unsatisfactory results. I am better off living “business as usual” because then I am living. As I think about the people who ask how I’m doing, I wonder if that’s not really what
they want to know . . . “How’s your living?”
“Great. My living is just great. How’s yours?”
Great.
Somehow I had not answered her question. So she slid closer and lowered her voice to sound more serious. “No, I mean, how are you doing?” “I assume you mean with Parkinsons?” I replied, confused, because clearly she could see me and tell how I was doing. She nodded. And then I made an error in judgment and tried to explain that I don’t have time to be ‘doing’ anything with Parkinson’s. I take meds, sure, so I can do my life. I live alone, still work, have bills to pay, and other things to do. There are days when I realize I haven’t even thought about the “P” word--it is just time to take a pill.
I realized a long time ago that if I started thinking about Parkinson’s, it could consume my whole day.
I’ve tested and proven that with unsatisfactory results. I am better off living “business as usual” because then I am living. As I think about the people who ask how I’m doing, I wonder if that’s not really what
they want to know . . . “How’s your living?”
“Great. My living is just great. How’s yours?”
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