disease
The pre-dawn landscape reflects the cloud subdued light of the moon. The harsh winds from yesterday’s weather front passage have subsided and stillness engulfs the terrain for the moment. Warm weather is predicted for the day with another grasp of winter’s cold hand to follow. A schedule of meetings, medical follow-up’s and routine chores align themselves on the “to-do” list of this still reluctant host to Parkinson’s. Stiffness, sleep disturbance, and the occasional tremor have become companions along the journey. Often pangs of guilt come to visit as I assert my anger at the challenge of buttoning a shirt sleeve or coordinating a fork and knife. As I watch the light drive away the darkness as the sun peeks over the eastern horizon I think of the opportunity that comes with a new day. The opportunity to share a smile; to offer a word of encouragement; to engage in exercise that combats the effects of diseased neurons, and the opportunity to whisper words and thoughts of thankfulness for the blessings already received and for those which are yet to come. Gratitude lifts my mind, heart and soul from a place of cloudy gloom to one that embraces the joy of living in the presence of the One who enlightens our way. Giving thanks helps clear the pathway to greater peace that surpasses our understanding!
A raging torrent of rain has passed. The deluge too great for the underlying Carolina red clay now hovers in masses of puddles in all the low lying places from which it could not run off. A glance out the front window of the old farm house gives witness to cardinals, and one woodpecker feasting on the critters finding their way to the top of the soil to avoid the penetrating swale of water coming their way. For some of nature’s own, this weather is a treat whereas for others it brings life risking challenges above which a few may not rise. The proverbial “mixed bag” seems not so mixed for some. Living with the “mixed bag” of chronic disease presents life challenges for which one must learn to accommodate. Medication is one form of accommodation for many. Adjusting to physical limitations and challenges is yet another form of accommodation. An occasional diminution of symptoms which requires less accommodation may be taken for granted since one’s pre-symptomatic life was relatively void of reasons to accommodate. As untoward symptoms re-emerge, it is not uncommon to have them accompanied by various aspects of grief. This semi-professional accommodator to symptoms and grief therewith has grown to understand and appreciate the necessity to exercise routine and consistent thanksgiving for all abilities and levels of accommodation. Gratitude has become that friend whose comfort I would not be caught without. When challenges seem to overwhelm, that friend named gratitude emerges to remind me that all abilities, whether great or small, are gifts and keys that open a plethora of still unused abilities!
Turning from one side to the other in bed suddenly became a monumental effort. The mind reasoned it as non thought provoking but the body resisted as if there were a mountain to climb. First steps of the morning were met with frank resistance as the feet refused to undertake the customary heel to toe movement forward. As frustration rises, so does the pill rolling tremor in the right hand rise in intensity. Visits from these reminders of human disease vulnerability descend occasionally without warning, but most often after an over-exertion of physical activity or a forgotten dose of dopamine replenishing medication. Each event prompts a response from one of the crossroads along the road of grief. That road leads ultimately to acceptance, but not to surrender. Acceptance that avenues of wellness are still available on this journey is not a sign of surrender to a place of defeat or resignation that there is nothing that one may do that would lead down a brighter road. Sometimes in the space called acceptance, a sudden reminder of the challenge being faced at that moment takes hold and tears of grief and frustration well up to overflow upon the cheeks that harbor gratitude. Knowing the presence and comfort of the Creator is in itself a place of peace that far surpasses any reasoned understanding. A thankful heart still beats to the rhythm of grace as mercy each day shows His loving presence.
Walking precariously over the ancient cobblestone streets we stopped to gaze at the concrete mold made from the hollow of a previous human form caught in the onslaught of the volcanic calamity. As we gazed at the morphed form and the surrounding remains of ancient buildings, we were taken by our thoughts to a time long ago when Pompeii was a thriving tourist destination for well to do Romans. The inhabitants had no idea that on that day in 79 AD, their beloved destination would become their tomb beneath the tons of hot ash that were deposited from the eruption of Vesuvius. The natives and their hopes, dreams, and plans were long gone and there were we, gazing in the bright sun of Southern Italy at what remained of the uncovered paradise. Filled with wonder and awe at the sheer opportunity to gaze upon the spectacle of the remains and vicariously peek into the privileged life of a culture past, we gave thanks for that day and that time we were spending there. As we reflect today, we are again consumed with thoughts of gratitude for memories of past and the hope of opportunities both today and to come. Disease symptoms may at times limit and even inhibit, but at this moment we are thankful for this breath called life. Gratitude is the sweetener in the cup of life that satiates the thirsty heart!