I Almost Left Parkinson's at Home

I almost left Parkinson’s at home when my husband, Tom and I vacationed in Colorado last week. Parkinson’s has always accompanied us for the past 12 years.

For six days, I didn’t write in my blog. I left my laptop at home and walked smugly by the Internet cafes that called for me at every corner. I didn’t utter a word about Parkinson’s.

 

I even forgot to bring the access controller for the deep brain stimulator. No worries, I correctly thought, as Parkinson’s is at home.

 

At breakfast, Tom told me to quiet down as I was speaking too loud. This is a first. Perhaps all those "Think Loud" voice therapy sessions were starting to pan out.

 

And then I knew with certainly that Parkinson’s was not vacationing with us when I accomplished the next challenge. After paying for our tickets for a tour at Cliff Palace in Mesa Verde National Park, an out-of-shape, overweight park ranger warned us about the risks involved in scrambling up and down the mesas. If he can do it, I can do it, I rationalized. And do it, I did. I climbed five 10-foot steep vertical ladders and scaled the red rocks on the 100-foot vertical climb to the exit. I was exhilarated.

But later at dinner that night, Parkinson’s “reared its ugly head” (Tom’s words). If I would have thought quickly enough, I would have cautioned “don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.” You must understand that I made a major mistake, an earth-shattering faux pas. I dropped my unused fork on the carpet while we were dining at an Italian restaurant. The expression on Tom’s face was negative. Was it anger, hostility or was he startled or scared? I started to explain how I dropped the fork until I realized the ridiculousness of this argument. I motioned for the young blonde waitress and asked for a replacement fork. She probably never dropped a fork in her life, but then just like magic, the fork inexplicably slipped from her hands. Her negative self-chatter probably went something like this, “How could I be so stupid?”

 

After this incident, I pondered how we all take our lives so seriously, creating mountains, not molehills. And how would Tom respond if and when I started falling just like the fork, but on a much grander scale?

 

Parkinson's will never get left behind again.

 

Comments

[Joe]

Kate, I understand perfectly. There are so many times when I have tried to leave Parkinson's at home. I have come close, but never succeeded - partly because of my own actions, and partly because those that are nearest and dearest to me care too much about my physical well being not to bring it along for the ride.

[Kate Kelsall]

Hi Joe,

Thanks for your comments. You do understand.

At the times when I am arrogant about my PD, I only need to remind myself that I'm doing as well as I am because of:

the army of help from medical professionals, family and friends;

the metal in my head from DBS as well as the pacemaker to my brain;

and the slew of medication that most "normal" folks don't have to take.

This humbles me and put things in perspective.

Kate

[Diane J Standiford]

Fun to try. Such a good post. I have to remind myself of mole hills.

[Mary Sullivan]

As the spouse of a PWP, I have to admit to doing what Joe said - bringing it along for the ride. I guess I need to look at things differently - perhaps my husband doesn't need to be reminded every five minutes to swing his arm, speak up, stretch more, take his meds, don't stress, etc. Even with the best of intentions, I can see how bothersome I have been during the times that he wanted to leave it at home.

[daniel]

As someone who has Parkinson's I very much enjoy your writing, but I would enjoy it EVEN if I didn't have PD!

[Kate Kelsall]

Hi Daniel,

I appreciate your kind words about my blog. I enjoy writing it, and it's nice to hear from readers who benefit from it as well.

Take care,
Kate