I’m Good. You? Fret

I’m good.  I hope you are too.

I’m not on any Parkinson Disease symptom-relief medication for a variety of reasons – chief among them is that my tremor only marginally restricts my life.  The medications I do take will, hopefully, slow down my disease’s progression. I won’t know how they’re working for decades.  So, how am I? Frankly, I feel pretty much the same way I did before the diagnosis. How is my brain– well, we won’t know that absolutely until the autopsy. In the mean time, I choose to believe it’s shaken, not stirred.

Wish I had something pithy and positive to say, but alas, my ailment is chronic, incurable – and manageable.  Parkinson’s Disease will plague me until my death.  At the moment, though, it’s minor pain in my ass. I believe that I am in good hands with my doctors and am encouraged by the research I read about developing PD therapies.  

I’m good. Really. I hope that you are good with me too.

And, when I’m not so good – which I promise is not often – I Google. Yes, sometimes when I have a pouty, ‘woe is me’ moment… and I know that this sounds wacky … but I find it tremendously reassuring to see the enormous range of wheelchairs and scooters available out there … just in case … I end up twitching myself into one. Really. I am blessed with the means to afford the top models I’ve seen on line. This comforts me greatly. It’s encouraging to see that there are options so that I can remain mobile and relatively self-reliant should the disease take an unexpectedly negative turn.

There are entire websites devoted to wheelchairs, scooters and their accessories. You can buy a wide variety of them on Amazon.  Some are built for speed, others for rugged terrain, some for travel, some that appear better suited for home use, etc., etc., etc. They come in different colors and sizes – some even offer free shipping.  From afar, they all look comfortable. And reassuring.  If I still have my wits about me, I am sure I can navigate their various features. If not, fucking shoot me.

There are also a variety of walkers and other balance aids that give me solace – and which I will likely ‘add to cart’ at some point.  But not today. Today I will workout. I will pop my panoply of protective Parkie pills. I will swing my left arm when I walk — even if I have to do so consciously. I will laugh with others and at myself. I hope that you’ll laugh too. I will continue to choose blind optimism every single day, because I truly believe that I will merely tremor for decades to come.

I’m fine. I hope that you are too.