Hello, Darkness

This is where I must return at times. To paraphrase the late Maurice Sendak, it's where the dark things are. At the heart of it, I am afraid, mostly these days. These fears I cannot share. What if all this effort really isn't working? I exercise every day, I have specifically added T'ai Chi and riding my exercise bike based upon research I have read about. I am gradually accepting the fact that low-carb diets are no longer a suitable means to control my weight. Copious amounts of wine, a favorite means to lift the spirits, even to assuage boredom, are no longer compatible with the assorted meds I take. I take two vitamin supplements. I regularly play word games and do math in my head (mostly calculating expenses compared to income in retirement).

All these efforts and I still have mostly lost the ability to use a pen or pencil; I resort to eating with the opposite hand. I find myself favoring my right leg. I hold my left arm curled up in front of me when I am tired. I catch myself walking stooped at the waist or shoulders or both. Sexual activity has become suspenseful, at least. I don't sleep like I used to. I even catch a little drool at the corners of my mouth on occasion. Are all these things acceleration in the onset of my PD? It is "a chronic, degenerative condition," isn't it?

Depression is my oldest friend. I just know I will be losing all independence and will be staggering around behind a walker, drooling on myself or worse. Ever the pragmatist, I ask myself "What to do?" Lately I have been wallowing in it. What fun!

In a more constructive direction, I am trying to become involved in the Parkinson's movement—on the political front speaking out for more funding of research (a real conflict for me, being opposed to government boondoggles, but a more compatible one for me is removal of restrictions on stem cell research). I am also working to promote participation in clinical trials and genetic research. All of this is hard to do without joining a local support group. From a distance, that all looks like more wallowing to me, besides, all those people are way farther along in the degenerating stuff, aren't they?

The Dalai Lama says that death is a great teacher, from it we learn about suffering (which is regarded as an inadequate translation of the word in Pali). Death teaches us about attachment, ignorance and anger in the face of impermanence. I can see Parkinson's that way, I think. At least I'm trying to, here in the dark.