<h1> A carousel of time</h1>

The doctor thinks I have a pinched nerve in my shoulder, hence the pain. I think he is right. The moment that nerve "fires?", the pain is excruciating, momentarily attacking at around the same level of discomfort as a spinal stenosis problem. At least with a spinal stenosis you can free yourself of the agony by learning how to sit, pain free. Unfortunately, I have yet to learn which motions cause the nerve to let loose. The pain is a sudden, electrical burning that is totally unpredictable in its onset. It lasts seconds, but it enough to cause me to stumble with a yelp.

Oh well, it is just another burden for my catalog of woes. I will try to distract myself with my latest interest, i.e. an interest in the concept of HOPE; not the kind of hope as in "I hope the Jets win tonight" but; rather, something deeper, more to do with your subconscious mind than your conscious mind. It is hope veiled with emotion.

My mother was 96 when she died. She still was totally rational and still taking medication that could prolong her life, but because all her sisters were dead, and husband and good friends had died, She was frank in announcing, each time we chatted, that she would welcome death.

After our chats, I wondered if her brain, was conflicted, with a "winner" takes all" kind of spat. It seemed too me it was a contest between her minds, as to whether she should take her pills in order to live (Conscience mind)or to stop her meds and die (subconscious mind ). In her own words, while still taking meds, she asked the universe, "Why can't I die? My sisters are dead as are my friends and your dad is waiting for me." Hope involves emotion. They are inextricably connected. Her future was clouded by emotion and life after death. She now hoped there would be an afterlife. She became emotional when we first talked about it as a possibility. Her subconscious mind became her consciousness. There was no way she was going to give up hope of life after death.

My mother's hope for death to take her was eventually satisfied. She and I had had several discussions on the topic of the after-life, satisfying moments for each of us. A decision was made. She was going to die. It was inevitable. In her sub conscience, she knew her fate. She stopped her meds (except for pain)and shortly after, she went on to the next level of our existence.

Hope can have several meanings. My definition of hope as a state of mind that, no matter what happens, you confidently expect the desired outcome to occur.

If that definition is not clear to you consciously, look for it. You will find it hidden in your subconscious mind somewhere. You will feel it like a zephyr, scratching at your pant legs, tickling your timing, creating chaos. I trust you will join me in my world where pessimism is not permitted

I know, you complain that my mother's story was a sad story, but get on with showing how all that has anything to do with Parkinson's.

In my world, we swim in a sea of hope, so allow me, on behalf of all PWP, to say we all hope they find a cure for PD. Researchers have told us the cure is certain, probably within the next decade. I hope it happens in my time and, if not, I hope to die a dignified death.

If you hope for a vibrant future, free from PD, it can become a certainty.

Ponder the concept of "Hope" and make your definition a positive one. As cancer patience say:

Thrive, don't just Survive