parkinson’s
A chill in the spring air engulfs exposed skin even in the light of the morning sun. The call of the wild turkey supersedes the dawning chirps of other nesting birds. The goats and hens are out foraging through the pasture land each seeking to consume what is in their own taste. The deep orange yokes offered up in the laying nests give evidence of the richness of the chicken’s diet. Garden plantings appear to be thriving in the compost mixed soil from last fall’s renderings. The cycle of life once again manifests itself in the glow of the morning here on the farm. Even Gracie, the Golden, has connected with her mate to produce a precious litter of Golden pups by mid June. Grateful for the evidence of life and its renewal, we offer thanks to the Creator in whose hands we seek to see more clearly the ultimate new creation. Although affected by Parkinson’s disease and what now appears as intermittent atrial fibrillation, we are defined by neither. Choices now abound regarding treatment that are intended to render one less affected and more freed to pursue the expressions of the who we are in the image of Who we are made. We choose now to view treatments not as burdens but as opportunities to live out the wonder and purpose for which we were created.
Wake up and preparation are but a faint memory of that day when “cardioversion” was scheduled. We were at the hospital outpatient center by 7:30 a.m., and taken swiftly into the procedure room after signing all the required forms. Among my companions were uncertainty, an attempt at emotional distance, a bit of fear and anxiety, but each was packed as neatly as I could muster within my pocket of faith and trust. The prep nurse was a delightful young lady with two small children who had moved to the area to be near her father and stepmother. Her husband was so grieving their previous home in Panama City that they were in the process of finalizing their move back to Florida. She facilitated my comfort as best she could while securing an EKG and the necessary hookup to the heart monitor showing pulse and blood pressure. Inserting the needle for the IV was a bit more challenging as the first site started to swell immediately. An apt apology and a resignation that this was a part of the day’s journey created the space for a successful second attempt. While the nurse was securing the final diagnosis of atrial flutter, the CRNA arrived and introduced himself before securing answers to questions already rendered upon check in. I posed the question as to his residential background and learned that he had grown up in the area, had graduated from a well known college in the State and was married to a pharmacist at the hospital who was also from the local area. They have one son in his freshman year in college not far away, and they have a farm on which they raise goats with intentions of acquiring beef cattle. He shared with me that they were looking to buy some more land, perhaps in the county in which we live in North Carolina. I gave him a couple of locations that I know have been for sale just before the Cardiologist arrived. The Cardiologist and I commiserated on the excellent talent of the young folks in the recent performance of Godspell, the musical we both attended the previous weekend. As he placed the “electrode” pads on my chest and back he reflected how good the comedy performances were at the same theater. The anesthesiologist suddenly arrived and introduced himself as the nurse anesthetist informed me that the “propophol” was being administered. I jokingly said “I guess it’s time to say good night.” At first I only experienced an odd taste, and then the heavy weight of sleep descended upon me. In what seemed like only seconds, I was slowly waking to an empty room except for the young nurse who was telling me that the procedure had not accomplished its intended end. The Cardiologist had four times stopped my heart to then “shock” it back to what was hoped to be a normal rhythm. All four times my heart returned to its previous fluttering state. My blood pressure was exceptionally low and as soon as it began its ascent to a reasonable state of normal, I would be allowed to leave. My left shoulder felt as if it had been hit by a semi. Where the pad was located on my chest, about the size of one’s hand, the skin was tender and raw. I felt completely exhausted as I put on my clothes and was led to the waiting car so lovingly driven by Ray. The Pensacola bound nurse handed me the “after procedure” instructions along with an appointment date for the follow-up visit to the Cardiologist. Exhausted and thankful for being alive we sped away from the hospital to arrive at home for an afternoon of recuperation. Tucking the question of “what next” in the bag of gratitude, this Parkinson’s palpating patient laid down for a long afternoon nap!
Clouds hover as they disrupt the rays of the sun. Peering through the window it seems apparent that the temperature is cold and uninviting. A walk outside dismisses the thought of cold as the warmth of the air embraces one’s face. Adjusting to the weather change is inviting, but sometimes challenging. Adjusting to change with Parkinson’s is challenging as well. Each person’s experience is uniquely different, much like each person’s experience with today’s weather is patently their own. Years ago I studied the various manifestations of this neurological disorder known as Parkinson’s disease. It was then part of my job educating pharmacists on the nuances of diminution of pyramidal cells in the brain and the subsequent loss of dopamine, an essential neural transmitter. Then it was clinical and distant, much like the view of the weather from inside the house. Now it is up close and personal and nothing like what my “clinical” version rendered. Thankfully, none of the symptoms are as bad as I had once imagined. Some say “just wait, they will get there.” I think they may or may not be right, but as the symptoms “progress” they will again be experienced within my unique perception. The journey is one of passage through the various stages described as grief. Sometimes I experience anger at the discomfort, pain, stiffness and patent slowness in movement. Other times I press forward in denial that anything could keep ME from accomplishing my heart’s intent. Then again I slump in my chair of despair and shed tears at the loss of agility. The most blissful of times are those embraced by acceptance that challenges may come and go, but there are responses to those challenges that may brighten the day when wrapped as the gift of gratitude for yet another opportunity. No matter the metaphorical condition of weather outside, the joy of life’s experience is uplifted by the level of gratitude and thankfulness nurtured on the inside!
The glistening sun shining bright on the browned landscape conveyed the impression that warmth had finally come to the air around us. A stark cold snapped us firmly as we ventured from the warmth of the farmhouse into the bright but deceptive sunshine. Today the bright light of the sun is hidden behind the invading clouds that hover above, giving the impression of cold and foreboding weather outside. An embrace of warmer air when stepping from the door corrects the temperature misperception. It seems that in this time of season change the temperature may not always be as it appears from behind the insulated panes of the window looking out. Symptoms of Parkinson’s seem to act at times like that of the deceptive weather being viewed from a place of insulated experience. All things seem normal and calm, but when challenged with movement, resistance may show its ugly head. From my vantage point, the destination seems clear and straight ahead. The reality of movement disorders and the ever challenging dopamine depletion gives enlightenment in a different experience and the destination is not so easily achieved. Just as stoking the wood into the old stove helps keep the indoors warm, timely and routine ingestion of dopamine replacement helps to modulate agility and involuntary movement. Frustration invades the undertaking of tasks that are movement challenged and impeded. For times when freedom of movement seems restored in part if not in whole, brings forth a sense of gratitude. What had for so many years been taken for granted is now an opportunity to experience thankfulness for realizing it was and is a gift from the Creator!
A breeze from the north carries the mist through the old chestnut tree as it sways in response. The weather is signaling a change as the early pangs of the fall season begin to arrive. Autumn will soon arrive bringing a kaleidoscope of forest leaves that will signal farewell to summer days of early morning and late evening sun. This early change requires only minor adjustments in daily routine. Soon we will see the need for even more adjustments to accommodate the changing clime. Likewise, changes in daily routine are required as the insidious disease called Parkinson’s insinuates itself more deeply into life’s experience. The inclination to not challenge self to move frequently and often seems to be accentuated at the arrival of cool and rainy days. Intention followed by action, however, frees the inclination to embrace another experience. Gratitude for the ability to engage movement that opens opportunities both today and tomorrow is the springboard to agility. Thankfulness is the well from which the thirst for joy is quenched.
The hanging fern swings gently in the morning breeze as streams of light shine through from the rising sun behind it. Early morning chores have given way to a time of reading and reflection. Not satisfied with just one there are currently three books in various stages of completion. The morning experience has become one of recognizing the presence of blessings. Thankful for an evening’s rest and filled with gratitude at the sight of another day, the morning serves as a time of gainful renewal, refocusing, and rejoicing. This diseased body is not symptom free, but mornings render it symptom-less as agility and flexibility open the door to greater ease of movement. Parkinson’s disease is noted for its progressive nature and I have experienced some of that progression over time. I have witnessed and heard about it [progression] from others who are similarly inflicted. Yesterday has passed and tomorrow is not promised. “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24
By: Cathy Garrott
We have so many appointments in life and often have trouble remembering them all, but we seem to have no trouble remembering the disappointments. They drag us down and ruin our mood … often making us “not so pleasant” company. Disappointments come when we do not get something we think we need, be that a “thing” or the fulfillment of a promise, or something long anticipated with joy. (Not many would be disappointed to be told, “you don’t need to have that surgery that we scheduled.”)
While my brother was here visiting there were things we were able to do, and some we did not get around to in the time available. It was disappointing that the cherry trees were not in full bloom, but it was not a tragedy. Our children make decisions that sadden us at times, but we should not react by withholding our love. A friend’s daughter got pregnant out of wedlock and the parents were devastated and embarrassed. I pointed out to them that it would be far better to live with a disappointment than with a tragedy … an abortion would help them save face, but would take the life of their grandchild, and putting pressure on the daughter might drive her to suicide – which would, indeed, be a tragedy. Today that grandchild is the pride and joy of her grandparents, a cheerful three year old who brightens their lives, AND they have a good relationship with their daughter who has grown in her understanding of what real love is.
One person’s disappointments cannot be compared to another’s. Parkinson’s is not on the same level as a child born out of wedlock, or cherry trees that were not in full bloom at the right time. But our reaction to disappointment can make all the difference in the world in our own peace and happiness. Learning to deal with disappointments and move on with life, making the best of what we DO have, rather than dwelling on what we don’t have or what might have been, influences how happy we are in life.
Flipping an omelet was a simple task. Turning from side to side in the bed was once a thoughtless maneuver. Putting on pants while standing was second nature and required no thought or attention. Hopping from the chair to attend to a recalled task was a snap. Flicking a light switch was accomplished with lightening speed. Turning quickly because you remembered something in the other direction required no attention to the process of turning around. “Past” is the tense in each of the previous statements. So many things this “whipper-snapper” took for granted have become the thief demanding attention where no attention was before required. This stranger called Parkinson’s disease has decided to take up residence. His presence is unwelcomed and he was uninvited. His intrusiveness is fuel for my anger at times and a reminder of my grief at what has been lost. I reflect on life before his invasion and though saddened at times by loss I cannot help but be thankful that those years of freedom were given. Today the struggle is not as much with the resistance to movement or the slowness to respond to my every whim, but rather with the integration of what is today, with the memory of what used to be. Each day now becomes a new opportunity to exercise what remains. Placing grief at the feet of thankfulness helps create a path forward with the legs of gratitude.