Last weekend I was, in truth, feeling pretty low. I realise that this will come as a bit of a shock to anyone who knows me. You’ll have stopped reading my blog – as instructed – before the whole cat-food/porridge/iPod fiasco. You didn’t miss much – it got a bit wimpy from that point.
I’ve had some really touching and helpful responses from complete strangers. The following had me chortling all week and calls out to be given a wider audience:
“I wear my glasses on my face, ask where my glasses are, find another pair, put them on my face (I am now wearing two pairs of glasses), complain that my eyes are getting worse and that my glasses are useless before realising that I have two pairs on my face. I then take them off, go to the kitchen to console myself with a coffee before I can be heard shouting to the whole house……. where are my bloody glasses! I’d rather eat cat food and porridge!! “
Thanks, whoever you are.
Some strangers suggest that the whole lack of concentration thing might be, just possibly, not actually caused by the Parkinson’s but, instead, more related to the fact that – not for the first time that week – I’d been marking till midnight and then got up again at six to re-plan that day, as the little blighters hadn’t got it the day before and might not make sufficient sub-levels of progress in the end of term assessments.
And would you believe it, there are still kids in my class who start their sentences with ‘and’ and go on to write a whole paragraph without a full stop!
You know, they might be right. The strangers, that is; not the kids who can’t punctuate. I can see now that the Nonsense is hitching a lift on the work stresses and then joining in the fun by playing up more than usual.
This also, as it happens, seems to be the opinion of the gorgeous Dr Ceres. (Beautiful, Italian, long hair, thigh length boots, immensely clever.) I whiled away much of yesterday in her company at the Hammersmith Hospital.
I was there taking part in a short experiment. Scientists may have identified a protein which is present in the brain of some people with PD. It might be linked to a particular symptom: dyskinesia, which I don’t yet have. This symptom is reasonably common in people who have had the condition for some years. If they can pin down the protein, they can work out how to treat it. I’m part of the control group.
For my visit yesterday, I had to miss my meds on Thursday night and on Friday morning. Dr Ceres then did a whole load of neuro tests, gave me the meds and repeated the tests at fifteen minute intervals for two hours to monitor the change in responses. Next week, I’m to have many brain scans, including a PET scan which involves being injected with radioactive gung to highlight the protein in question, if it is present. One PET scan, would you believe, cost six thousand pounds! Courtesy of Parkinson’s UK, God bless ‘em.
Anyway, we had a fair amount of time to chat, Dr Ceres and I. It’s very heartening to hear about the current research; edging ever closer to a break-through.
What was also telling, just from a personal point of view, was that although I had missed two doses of my usual meds, my tremor, which has been more noticeable of late, was very mild. Still present but only just; and quickly responded to the Sinemet. I’m no research scientist – couldn’t carry off those boots for a start – but it doesn’t take an expensive scan to link this with the fact that I didn’t work on Thursday evening, slept well and long and had the prospect of two days off before I start planning again on Sunday.
So perhaps I have been indeed blaming the Nonsense unfairly for getting my knickers in a twist. Which is good news because I can do bugger all about having PD.
But I can – and I will – make other changes to reclaim my life.
Mind you, when Ofsted come, all my weaknesses will be due to the PD. Naturally. Not a word, OK?