Physics

We are all busy. Probably many of us also have an insistent inner voice. Mine chides me every morning as I weave my way across the obstacle course bedroom, down the helta skelta staircase and (this morning) out into the freezing cold back garden.

I was crunching across the frost in the dark at 645am dear reader. Were you under your duvet? Quite right.

As my bones rapidly cooled, I wondered how many Parkinson’s patients of an 18 year vintage were similarly engaged. I think we can guess the answer. I dragged an unwilling wheelie bin out to greet the approaching bin van and reflected on how current treatment plans fail to take into account the domestic circumstances of the patient. I have to do quite a lot in a day. Since my esteemed ex partner left (ok, was kicked out) my patchy, dare I say tenuous, grip on household maintenance and management has been tested. My PD too.

This morning began with one of my cats waking me by purring in my ear. I am not complaining. It’s better than its predecessor, a précis of my PD given nocturnal chats and nightmares. It can depress, believe me. I got out of bed on the third try and, after climbing over the ironically positioned grab frame that dominates my cracked and broken bathroom floor, completed a haphazard toilette. Cats now desperately performing a complicated game of charades to which only they have the rules, i descended unto the kitchen. Having correctly guessed the title they were miming was Food Glorious Food i fought the easy open pouches of the extravagantly priced cat mush. It always plops very satisfyingly into their bowls. I ponder gravity’s friendly influence on my morning as I do almost every day and then tackle the hall runner.

Ah yes,the hall runner. I love it because it makes me feel very grown up. I am 56. I have no idea why it conveys such gravitas, but it does. Imagine my horror when I discovered a pile of cat poo FOLDED UP inside it last night night as I was dragging myself upstairs to bed. I was torn between disgust and admiration for Violet’s obvious origami talents. I dumped it (the runner, not the cat although I was sorely tempted) into the porch to freeze overnight. My lack of motor ability at 11pm gave me no choice.

This morning however, there was no escaping it. Reader, I dumped it. It is currently lying in my back garden, waiting for me to make a final decision.

And this is my current dilemma. I am postponing action by writing this post. Thank you @substack, friend of the procrastinator.

Do I sacrifice this little symbol of my adult, independent status to the all consuming dumbing down of my existence ? Parkinson’s gravitational field is strong. Do I inch closer to the vortex or do I sentence myself to a very unpleasant hour of scraping and scrubbing? This will use up my morning dose of energy. Not being a perfect motion closed system I will have to then wait until at least the next drugs dosage (every 2.5 hours fact fans) to kick in. But if I do that I will jeopardise my ability to get to Walking Hockey. But WH is non negotiable in my book. It is my weekly holiday from PD. Nothing beats that.

So, I am left with either bin the runner (easy, quick, forgivable) or bury it in the rising pile of household tasks I have. I am not wasteful and I do have some personal pride so I suspect the latter will win out. This afternoon looks to be cold and smelly as a result. I comfort myself with the knowledge that every time I can finally look at the newly cleaned runner (I am an optimist, im assuming I will get all the shit out) I will remember that I refused to kowtow to the Lowest Common Denominator. But it’s getting harder every day. One day it will get me and I risk disappearing into the black hole of chronic illness. Gravity is truly a double edged sword.

Why am I telling you all this? Perhaps I want to share my daily domestic drama to make them seem less daunting. Perhaps this is a plea to you to help out somebody you know who might be trying to hold back the tides. Perhaps a policy maker might stumble upon these paragraphs and decide to reconsider the pitiless reduction in funding that my corner of the NHS seems to be experiencing. My consultants appointment has just been pushed back two months. A lifeline, just cut. And so it goes on.

I studied physics at #ImperialCollege. I am not stupid. I know how this will end. But by God, if I have to paint my face green and use tenuous popularism’s to get some visibility of the daily pressures that PD brings with it I will. After all, I was a munchkin in my school play back in the day. I can do this.