The Old Friend

A flick of the wrist and a twist of the nimble fingers and the bottle cap zipped off. An agile hand mindlessly poured the beverage over freshly drawn ice in the glass. A quick perfunctory prayer and knife and fork were at work cutting through the cooked meat then scooping the eggs so nimbly prepared into the waiting orifice. All of this was taking place without thought or care about the individual movements along the way. The day’s agenda lay ahead and the consumption of the food was only a minor pebble over which to travel this day. Suddenly, it seems, without warning, movements considered nimble, agile, flexible and thoughtless gave way to slow, rigid, intentional and attention demanding. Accommodation has to be made for the loss of nimble. Suddenly the impatient recipient of diminished dopamine is forced to address otherwise thoughtless acts with time and intention never anticipated as a part of one’s routine. A challenge never anticipated now unfolds. Does one approach these newly discovered boundaries with the fighting spirit to conquer and overcome, aggressively battling each and every movement that seems to impede? Or does one surrender to the inevitably progressive limitations and huddle in one’s own puddle of pity while silently sulking over the loss? Perhaps there is a more helpful way to address the issue? Some would term it as “making friends” with the reality of change brought on by this series of symptoms called PD. Before fully understanding this new friendship, one must grieve the loss of the old friend who was taken for granted.