The Gift

I know, I know, it’s been a while since I showed my face but I’m back.  I’ve been very, very lucky that the disease has progressed relatively slowly over that past year.  No new symptoms have appeared, just a worsening of those I already noticed.  The weakness is more and more pronounced and the clumsiness, oo-la-la, I’m surprised I haven’t broken a bone yet.

My spatial awareness is pretty much shot but then again, spatial exercises have never been my forte.  I never could figure out what size Tupperware I needed for my leftovers. Now, it’s almost funny.  I’ll go to rub my eye and either I slide right by my cheek or I give myself a good poke in the eye.  And heaven help you if you park behind me at CVS.  My little car isn’t much bigger than a bullet but still I can manage to take up a space and a half.  And we won’t even mention curb parking, or should we say middle-of-the-street parking.

The first thing someone does when they receive a scary diagnosis it to scour the internet day after day, site after site, looking for anything that alleviates the worry. At the time I told Doc he was going to have to suspend my internet privileges but that obsession does subside with acceptance.  Life goes on.

The second thing I did was read Michael J Fox’s memoir, Lucky Man. That was definitely a smart move and I recommend it to anyone with Parkinson’s or any other chronic illness.  Heck, he’s such an optimistic, grounded human I recommend it to anyone who wants an uplifting read. 

I took quite umbrage, though, when he talked about Parkinson’s as a gift.  I thought only a whoopdy-doo, hoity-toity million gazillionaire with not a worry in the world could call Parkinson’s a gift.  Certainly not a single mom with two college aged kids.  He does acknowledge that if Parkinson’s is a gift, it’s a gift that keeps on taking.  It definitely stinks but it changed his life.  Through the Michael J Fox Foundation he has met and helped thousands of people and gained a purpose he wouldn’t have had without it.

I am so very appreciative of the gift I received in the form of the Alamo Area Young Onset Parkinson’s Support Group.  (We all like to think we are young onset!)  It is a terrific group of folks who would never have been in my life without the diagnosis.  My friend Nancy dragged me there the first time and now I get to add this to the list of things for which I can never repay her.   

Our meetings are always little sessions full of grace and good humor.  J. is a truly young onset (diagnosed in her 30s) and is an inspiration.  S. can’t help but make me laugh with her advice on everything up to and including how to put on undies.  R. and I are still working fulltime so we always check in with each other.  D and T. are our facilitators who never, ever forget us, or anything special we might need. 

So in the end, yes, even a single mom with the worries of life she shares with everyone can appreciate the gifts that come, sometimes unexpectedly.