Unbeing dead is not being alive - e.e. cummings

Maybe I have already told you about meeting a friend I had not seen in 40 years? If I did mention it in an earlier entry, too bad, you are about to hear it again. After 40 years apart, we went for lunch during which I informed him I had PD and he replied, "So what. We are all going to get something some time." He was full of life and planning on bringing a cowboy band to the city. I don't remember their name, but they sang "Tumblin' Tumbleweeds". Six months later he called me to tell me he didn't have much longer to live. He died a month later from cancer.

Life can be a bitch sometimes.

Those of us with PD consider ourselves unlucky and lucky at the same time. Unlucky to have been blessed with PD but also lucky to be blessed with PD. If you have to have a degenerative brain disorder, PD is the best of the lot because its symptoms can be controlled. The end game might not be pretty but getting there can be an adventure.

There are always those tribal drums lurking somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind as I make my way toward the end of my journey. Will my death be dignified or will I......I banish the thought. Today will be a good day to be alive even if the day, as it appears it will be, is devoid of the sun and only 2 degrees centigrade.

What is life without adversity? I can't imagine it. A little stress makes me wake up and smell the coffee, which I would if I hadn't lost my sense of smell. I would rather not have PD, but I do and there is nothing I can do about it but ignore it as long as I can. I choose to be alive in the meantime

My phone is ringing. I have to answer it. Until I write again, I leave you with a line from a movie (I forget which one) in which an elderly lady was described as "she is not afraid of dying, she is afraid of not being alive."

To PWP, I say, don't be afraid of the future, be afraid of unbeing dead in the present.