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Thursday 22 March 2018

Someday I'm going go to murder the bugler

I met my nemesis in battle today and on this occasion, I was the last man standing, battered and bruised 'tis true, but nonetheless, I was standing.

Let me take you back a few hours. It is 2AM, that time in the morning after I have completed my 4 - hour sleep. I will get another hour, interrupted, but it is dicey, broken by the need to urinate. Each time I get out of bed is a drama. I can't just swing my legs off the bed and stand up. That would be too easy. I have to do a half roll to my knees on the floor with my head and arms still on the mattress. Rest a minute or two awaiting the time I am able to use the bed as a support while I overcome the lost energy of the night and will my body into a standing position.

Yesterday, I went through the routine, except my arms were so weak, I lost my support and ended up on the floor. I could not get upright. I struggled for about 5 minutes to right myself and might still be there had I not noticed one of my nordic poles lying on the floor. I managed to pull it to me and use it as an instrument to steady myself by climbing it (hand over hand)to a somewhat bent stance, all the while comparing my situation to that of the old lady in the commercial who falls and mutters something---- I forget exactly what, and I forget what she was promoting; "beef" I think, and somehow the phrase, "and I can't get up" gets worked into the ad. It was amusing at first but soon got old.

That is the only time I have experienced helplessness. Today, I feel strong. Let's hope there is never a repeat of the incident. All I have to say is "Bite me, PD".

When I wake up each morning, I make a choice. In spite of the PD attempts to depress me, I choose the positive over the negative and I shall continue to make that choice until someone, somewhere. finds the cure.

To paraphrase Wayne Gretzky, "90% of how you conquer life's absurdities is mental, while the remaining half is physical."

Monday 12 March 2018

STATS MARCH 5 TO 11



MARCH 5 to 11

Still averaging 2 new readers a day after all these years.  Thanks everyone



 MonTuesWedThurFriSatSunTotalAvg
Pageloads1414892111199614
Unique Visits128781510107010
First Time Visits6110122132
Returning Visits67681488578

Friday 9 March 2018

My computer beat me in chess but it was no match for a jab/cross combination

Community: (n) A community is a group of people who can teach us something new, make us laugh even when we are having a bad day and who are there for us when we need a little encouragement.



1. When I was first diagnosed I felt....not much really.  There was no drama.  It was as if the neuro had said to me, "I hate to have to tell you but you have an ingrown toenail."  I knew nothing about PD except that Michael J. Fox, Muhammed Ali and Hitler were PWP and they were doing OK (except for that Hitler guy). Sure my hand tremored from time to time, but hey,  I could handle that.  No problem. But then, I got curious and started researching, only to conclude that having PD was not a good thing.

2. D-day (diagnosis day) + 21.  In my third week, I read that exercise, eating well and social discourse might well slow down the progress of the disease.

3.  Social discourse!!!

4.  I lived in the same house for 40 years and never learned to be social with any of my neighbours.   Social discourse indeed!!!  As soon as it has been reliably ascertained that pigs can fly, then, and only then, will I try to improve my social graces.

5.  You should join a Parkinson's group, somebody offered.  Hmmmm, that's an idea.  But wait!  I just didn't think I needed one and so I quit looking.  I convinced myself I could handle this newest threat to my cushy life on my own.

6.  Then I got a pamphlet for "Rock Steady Boxing" and my curiosity was piqued.  Boxing for PWP. A solitary sport with people who could commiserate with me. Exercise and social discourse - almost a singularity!  I liked the sound of that.

7.  To make this epiphany short and sweet, I joined Rock Steady and there I found a community as I have defined it and I hope to stay in that community for a long time. It will make my journey easier. Take the advice of an 8-year veteran.  Find a group, any PWP group and get involved.  It is part of the "healing process".

The greatness of a community is most accurately measured by the compassionate actions of its members - Coretta Scott King

Saturday 3 March 2018

A treatise on Strength (or how I lost my manhood)

It is a strange feeling when you know your wife is stronger than you. She does CrossFit three times a week. You understand what that means, don't you? It means she gets the equivalent of being kicked in the stomach every day she goes for training ....but she keeps going back for more. She is 69. Yesterday she did 55 squats with 20-pound weights and 55 burpees. She has deadlifted 160 pounds. She is not trying to get muscular; rather, she wants to stay in shape.

CrossFit is her weapon of choice and her joy. It is also her therapist. She always arrives home alive and happy no matter how bad the day has been before her session.

Then there is me!

I used to be quite athletic. I was a decent runner. I was provincial race walk champion in my mid-forties. Then I had to give up running because of falls. Race walking went next because my balance was "iffy". Finally, I tried walking with Nordic Poles. I was good at it and achieved some speed but, after a year or so, that too was a thing of the past. The problem with the poles was, I had trouble stopping unless I ran into a wall or something.

These days I do weight training, chi gong, treadmill and stationary bike but, after the heart scare I was instructed to keep my heart rate under 100 beats per minute. HRUUMPF $#@$#$%%!!!

Well, I still have boxing. I returned after a 3-week absence full of hope only to find that my left arm, the one that had caused the heart scare, was so weak, I couldn't lift 5-pounds above my shoulder and my jab! Well, it was non-existent. I intend to continue because it is also my joy and occasionally, my therapist.

I received a lot of goodwill when I returned. As one instructor said, "Don't worry, it will all come back". That energized me. I appreciate his optimism and will keep on trying to keep going, at least until I am as strong as my wife. I don't know if that will be possible, she is known as the "beast" by crossfitters in her age class.

I blame it all on that all-consuming pain in my ass, the invader known as Parkinson's.

Isn't it time it left me alone!!

I may have to set my wife on it!