Checking In

I have been pondering many things recently. Some time ago I read an article that stated Parkinson’s was a weird thing where you adjusted, got used to it, then noticed it changed over time. So you adjust again, get used to it, and so on. I think I’ve been adjusting. There’s been lots to adjust to. The first most obvious thing has been getting married to Mr D. Which should really make me Mrs D, but I don’t know how I feel about that. Therefore, for now at least, I’m very firmly still plain old Mrs F. Though I’m now very much divorced from Mr F, I can assure you!

What’s in a Name?

I’ve been in knots over my name. I want to go back to my maiden, or birth name, which is Chivers. I tried suggesting Mr D be wildly modern and change his, but he argued the only people he’d met called Chivers were… let’s just say not keen enough on him to entice him to change his name, and leave it at that. I retorted I pretty much felt the same way about being Mrs D. We glared at each other a little, and so far I’ve changed my name on Facebook – sorry – Meta – but otherwise it’s the same. For now at least.

Prime or Broke?

The other thing has been my sickness. It has slowed me down at times. Walking has occasionally been difficult and bending over to pick things off the floor almost impossible. I refuse to allow it to be impossible, and slowly, slowly lower myself regardless so I can reach whatever it is. Yet I feel like an old woman, and I should really have kind of hit my prime. 50 is not considered old these days, but I guess it’s still oldER.

Not all Bad

Finally marriage has also meant a dissolution of marriage to my first husband, Mr F. We parted many moons ago yet I think I’m still allowed to feel sadness that it ended this way. In some ways, many ways, it should never have gone so far into actual marriage, but one cannot be sad at the proceeds of our union, the four wonderful people we created. It’s just a shame that parenting is clearly not an equally shared activity. Yet I digress.

Well Travelled

My Aunt came for my wedding. All the way from Australia. It was the single most wonderful thing. My cousin, her daughter, also came with her husband. My Aunt is 90 years old, and despite some recent issues is doing remarkably well. She complained bitterly that at a recent family party she had been dancing, but now she had to go carefully. “It all went wrong when I hit 90” she said with a wry smile.

Future Proof

It made stop and think. What indeed will I be like in even five or ten years time? To be honest it’s already utterly exhausting. I’m painfully aware I’m actually still considered to be doing really well. That’s a bit of a oxymoron, but I already struggle so much. Knowing I will never be cured is a strange thing indeed. It’s had to deal with. Yet deal with it I must. I don’t have any choice in this war, and it really is fight or… turn into the shuffling man I suppose. I’ve got too many nice shoes for that. Too much fire inside me that won’t back down.

Stronger Together

Despite it all let’s keep on keeping on. Don’t stop exercising, pushing forward or just try a bit of gentle stretching. Take those pills your neurologist recommended. We shall prevail. Stronger Together, we got this!

Until next time.