Category: Parkinson’s Disease

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The Faraway Nearby

by Amy Sommer | Nov 18, 2020 | Fretless Foibles, Parkinson's Disease

“Georgia O’Keeffe moved to rural New Mexico, from which she would sign her letters to the people she loved, “from the faraway nearby.” It was a way to measure physical and psychic geography together. Emotion has its geography, affection is what is nearby, within the boundaries of the self. You can be a thousand miles from the person next to you in bed or deeply invested in the survival of a stranger on the other side of the world.” Rebecca Solnit Of late, I feel that my muse, the talent that sometimes I believe is mine, is “faraway nearby,” caught in the purgatory of almost. I read the fragments on my screen and wonder how to connect the thought dots.… READ MORE

Tears

by Amy Sommer | May 1, 2020 | Fret Deliveries, Parkinson's Disease

“Do you ever cry?” asked the blue-suited banker as our formal lunch segued from spreadsheets to stories. “I had a very dark weekend when I was first diagnosed.” Reflexively, I share the story of the weekend after my Thursday diagnosis almost five years ago. In truth, I barely cried then – the reality of the diagnosis left me more numb than weepy. “Do you ever cry?” The question spins in my head. Occasionally, my tears flow. When I see yet another skill diminish my eyes well up with thoughts of what used to be. I type quickly, but not at the near warp speed of a court stenographer that was my habit before my left hand trembled. I rage at… READ MORE

Hand’s Solo

by Amy Sommer | Apr 11, 2020 | Parkinson's Disease, Tween Troubles

This post originally appeared on the Parkinson’s Community LA Blog in the fall of 2019. In honor of James Parkinson’s birthday (April 11, 1755) I am reposting it here. My left-hand dances to a beat all its own. It doesn’t need a partner or even music. The digits just flutter. Constantly. Faster when I’m cold, slower when I’m well-rested. Sometimes my hand’s compass points north, then gyrates south; sometimes it boogies east to west. My hand – like most Parkinson’s patients – is still only when I slumber, yet another neurological oddity on this disease’s idiopathic path. Progression is inevitable, but not necessarily terminal. As my dopamine-producing cells continue marching into That Good Night, my body will offer a plethora… READ MORE

Prescription Hope

by Amy Sommer | Mar 23, 2020 | Fret Deliveries, Fretless Foibles, Parkinson's Disease

On November 5, 2015 – the anniversary of Guy Fawkes and his Catholic crew’s attempt to blow up the British Parliament in 1605 – my world was blown up with a diagnosis. “Could it be anything else?” I asked the head of UCLA’s Movement Disorder Clinic “No, it’s Parkinson’s Disease,” he replied. There was never denial – I’d known in my gut what science confirmed to my head that morning – but there were several steps required as I grew to accept my new neuro normal. It’s an adjustment, a process – and, like so much of life, it’s okay for the most part. The sun still rises in the east, and my life continues – only now it’s with a… READ MORE

Neuro Normal…

by Amy Sommer | Dec 31, 2019 | Parkinson's Disease

On a crisp November morning, an esteemed neurologist confirms what I already know. “It’s Parkinson’s Disease.” “Could it be anything else?” “No. You have PD. But I have patients who are in their eighties and nineties – and I know that you’ll be one of those too.” Learning that one has a neurodegenerative disease is not the greatest start to a Thursday. But there is still a day to be had – so I have it. I return phone calls on the drive home. And then tell my husband who is waiting for me. It is his worst day. Within hours he has us living in the wreckage of our future. We will sell our home and move into a… READ MORE

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