Petrus Spronk
This month is Parkinson’s Awareness Month. And since I am one of the unlucky ones who was on the receiving end of this creepy disease, diagnosed about 16 years ago, I thought I’d tell you about my experiences.
Don’t stop reading, but stay with me.
Usually the first question I am asked is, “How did you know that you had it?” Here is the answer to that experience. It was harder and harder to sign my name. Once I had to sign some document and the receiver said, “That is not your signature.” And it wasn’t. It freaked me out and I decided to go and see my GP who made an appointment for me with a neurologist. When the neurologist had observed a couple of my movements, he told me pretty well straight off that I had Parkinson’s and that I could have had it for quite a while. A very sobering moment.
I did what I always do in times of stress and difficulty – I walked into the forest, found a spot, and looked at the situation. I knew nothing about Parkinson’s and I didn’t care to. I figured that the less attention I gave it, the less it existed for me. But I was fooling myself in that I could ignore it as much as I liked but It kept knocking at my door with all sorts of tricks. I had no influence over it. Then the following thought turned up – “Acceptance is the door to freedom.” This needed some consideration but turned out to be a beautiful liberating thought. Which is, when I accepted the fact that I had Parkinson’s I did not have to fight that battle during a state of denial anymore.
One win, but plenty to go.
Not much changed for a while, because in my case everything moves very slowly. Slowly but with a wilful determination. (I say, in my case, because Parkinson’s is different for everyone.) I first started to notice a decline in my energy levels, then Parkie became a bit impatient. It seems that he was keen for the suffering to start.
However, it was at that time that I decided to call my Parkinson’s, instead of my disease, my gift. Yes, my Parkinson’s gift. Sounds much better already. The word “gift” holds a promise somehow. You can do something with that word/concept of gift, whereas a disease makes you a victim.
This thought gave me a rare boost. I started to examine the possibilities of the gift. First of all I considered the gift of learning, since all situations contain the concept of learning. All of the situations I found myself in, “slowness” was one of the concepts that was ever present, plus it was overwhelming and, at times, extremely difficult to deal with. Activities which I used to do without any thought such as making my bed, washing the dishes, hanging out the washing, dressing myself, all took me an endless amount of time and since I always was a person with a great deal of energy, this was something I had to learn to deal with. Had to accept. I could start my learning right there. Start small and work up from there.
My Parkinson’s disease. Why, you may well ask. Calling it a disease I am straight away a victim – negative attitude – while you can do something with a gift – positive thought. And positive thought is a powerful force. And for what was to come I would need all the power I could muster.
So what will I do with this gift. I set out by making my mind up that I would not be angry, that I would not complain. But that damn Parkie was not, and would never be, happy until I was flat on my back and useless. He was really keen to see some destruction heaped upon me. In the meantime Parkie decided to attack that part of my brain which affects the functions of my legs and as a consequence my gait is becoming more and more weird. As is my walk. I used to walk 6 to 8 kilometre daily. Now on a good day I can make half of a kilometre. .
At the moment I spend about one hour each Saturday organising my medication for the coming week. That is the intake every four hours, each day I have to take 14 tablets. Then, as an extra, I fall over as a result of problems with my balance. However, I have learned to roll along with it and learned to get up easily.
One of the scariest aspects is freezing on the spot. This fun aspect occurs when I stand there and cannot move. The opposite to that when I have taken my medicine I go into a period of uncontrollable movement. I at times writhe in my chair. Or I can’t control my legs in bed till the point that I have to get up for a walk about my garden. I addition I have problems swallowing and as a result of taking all that medicine I am visited by the excitement of constipation. Hurray!
I think this is enough horrible stuff for one session. Suffice it to say that I am not looking forward to what surprises the future has in store for me. However I will not give up and I cope by engagement with the creative spirit. I will take it easy, but I will take it.
Petrus Spronk is a local author and artist who contributes a monthly column to The Wombat Post.
Email: art@petrusspronk.com
