We’ve been given Persona 3 to look at. He’s 41, single, works in IT. He likes sport and he drives. He’s not much of a reader, likes to travel and is umbilically attached to his phone. He doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s just been diagnosed with Parkinson’s. Especially not his mates; especially not his work.
Our task now is to figure out what would help young PeeThree get to grips with his diagnosis. Apart, that is, from a cure, which would obviously be everyone’s first choice.
If ever a plumber was needed
in the town,
the people said, “Send for
And if ever a class of mixed infants is in need of winning over, I would also recommend sending for Mrs Plug.Continue reading →
After lunch, we hunker down and share scary stories…
“And it’s only when we get to the theatre that I realise Robin’s actually expecting me to go on tonight.
“‘I can’t! I don’t remember the words!’
“‘Nonsense – you did eight shows a week for nine months. It’ll all come back.’
“‘But that was nine years ago – I don’t even remember the first line!’
“‘I’m sure you’ll be fine. Your dresser will sort you out.’
Grannie Chapman could neither read nor write, Pa tells me, so she signed her name with an X. But around Industry Terrace and Beehive Place in Brixton, it was, often as not, Grannie Chapman who saw people into the world, if you didn’t want to bother the midwife or incur the expense of a doctor.
“Hey, there’s a questionnaire for you here.”
“Huh?” says Actor Laddie.
“I’m doing these questionnaires for tomorrow’s research thing and there’s one headed “For Partners/Carers”. So, I guess that’s for you.”
So, last night we went to see Paul Mayhew-Archer’s one man show: Incurable Optimist at the Soho Theatre.
We’ve seen Paul in action a couple of times before at Parkinson’s UK benefits: firstly at the Comedy Store and then again at the Royal Albert Hall, d’y’mind. Both of these were quite short turns but subsequently Paul has worked up an hour’s show which he took to Edinburgh last year. Continue reading →
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realised that I’d been tactless. The last thing Tom needed, being, as he was, in the grip of dyskinesia (linked to Parkinson’s drugs; makes you move uncontrollably; just awful) and also having a conference-ful of important people to talk with; I’m sure the very last thing he needed was for some fool of a woman asking for his autograph on her copy of his book.
But Tom Isaacs had been a hero of mine, ever since I’d read “Shake Well Before Use” a couple of months earlier, and it was the first time I’d met him, and he couldn’t have been more warm and welcoming. Basically, I was starstruck. Still am, really. He even apologised for the writing being shaky! Him. Apologising to me. Good grief.
“So Frank says to me, ‘say something in Cockney,’ so I say ‘apples and pears’ and he says, ‘what does that mean?’ and I say ‘stairs. It means stairs.’ So he laughs and says ‘tell me another’ and I say ‘nice whistle and flute’ and I tell him that means ‘suit’. ‘How about that, Lillian?’ he says to his missus, only she don’t hear ’cause she’s a bit mutton.
“I was just wondering – do you think it would be completely bonkers for me to take my Grade One?”
When I started having piano lessons, a couple of years ago now, I told Holly that I wasn’t even considering taking any exams. Why would I? Particularly with a tremor which, though generally mild and well-behaved, has been known to have the Mother of all Temper Tantrums in times of stress. Exams are stressful; piano exams need obedient hands; stress leads to disobedient hands; disobedient hands would make exams even more stressful. Even considering this would be illogical, Captain.Continue reading →
“Do you think that if I stopped looking at Twitter and Facebook, I’d get my book finished quicker?”
“No,” says ActorLaddie.
“No. I think that unless you stop looking at Twitter and Facebook, you’ll never get your book started.”
More brutally honest than I was hoping for. Still.