"Every cloud has a silver lining. Even Parkies have good days when they can count their blessings"
And today, I am counting mine! Because I am in the good company of a certain Michael J. Fox. He is a Parkie too! You should know the man - he was the star of " Back To The Future" and a couple of sitcom series. So like me, he's an actor. He is also a comedian. I am a humorist.This has to be a blessing.
Yes, I AM AN ACTOR. According to Williams Shakespeare anyway. "All the world is a stage; all the men and women are merely the actors."
A humorist? But I am! I was constantly referred to as "a joke" by all and sundry. I think they meant "a joker". I have always made people laugh no matter what I say or what I do. When I was in primary school, I was asked what I wanted to be when I grow up. I said I wanted to be a lawyer. The whole class laughed. When I was in high school my dad asked me the same question, I said "Doctor". The whole family laughed. When I met my future mother-in-law for the first time and promised her I would buy her daughter anything she wanted, the old lady couldn't stop laughing. Yes, I am a humorist too. Humorist. Comedian. Humor. Comedy. In Singlish, we say "Same same!"
In fact, we have so many things in common that we are already on nickname terms. I call him "Mikey". He calls me "Mickey". Hmm..... maybe I should ask him where he got the Mickey from.
He was born on June 9. Bingo! Me too. I am the older one although I look younger. Take my words for it.
His book “Always Looking Up” was appropriately titled. Firstly, his optimism is infectious. Secondly, for practical reasons, he simply has to look up most, if not all, of the time because, er..because, okay, BECAUSE ALMOST EVERYONE ELSE IS TALLER THAN HIM! Welcome to the club. If I were to write a book, the title would be "Always Looking up Too!" But I won't dwell on this.
What is important is that in his book Mikey refers to himself as a “Parkie” and it has become a term of endearment I use for people like us. We suffer from the same affliction – Parkinson’s Disease (PD).
He is a Parkie.
I am a Parkie.
We are Parkies.
PD is described as a long-term degenerative disorder of the
central nervous system that usually affects the motor skills and therefore
movement. And more, much more as I am slowly finding out in my tenth year as a Parkie.
“Slowly”, believe me, is an understatement. When I am in my frozen state,
taking a shower will require the same amount of time you would need to travel
from Yishun to Orchard Road. By bus, not
on the MRT. Parkies are slow, but not that slow.
Yes, I have plenty of blessings to be thankful for, my lively Parkinson’s Disease notwithstanding. Yes, lively. PD has made me livelier than my age permits. When dyskinesia sets in, you could see me dancing and prancing all over in public, something I would not even do in private. Let me tell you what happened last Saturday. I was walking across via an underground tunnel and suddenly beautiful music filled the place. My body started to jerk. Then my legs moved in directions which I didn't even know existed. And my body, my body twisted like a rubber band. The jerks and the twists and the whatnots were all so coordinated to the tempo of the music which came from the old violinist who looked at me with his tongue hanging out. A crowd gathered and crowd funding was redefined on that grand Saturday. Each jerk and each twist was met with a generous offering of currency notes and coins in different denominations - they found their way into this box carefully positioned near the violinist. Dyskinesia (another hyperlink for you) left me abruptly, just after 3 minutes and the crowd gave me an applause, a standing ovation no less. They were standing anyway. Dyskinesia may have left, but the dopamine level was still low so I inched towards the man who was by now toting up his takings, actually mine takings. He turned, smiled at me, picked up a five dollar note, Malaysian, not Singaporean currency, and pushed it into my pocket, saying "Good job! See you tomorrow same time!"
The nerve of the man. It was my nerves that did the trick. My entire central nervous system was put to work, he only provided the music. Yes, he will see me all right. He will see me when I have got my own busker's licence! What a blessing! PD has given me new career choices.
Yes, I can now do moves that could make the K-Pop youngsters turn green with envy. If the timing is correct and at that very moment I happened to be auditioning for AMERICA GOT TALENT, Simon Cowell, bless his heart, will hit the golden buzzer. But if the timing is not right, and I happened to be on the MRT, I could be prancing all over, from carriage to carriage, entertaining the very frustrated passengers, distracting them from their woes and the incessant announcements over the P.A. system “THIS TRAIN HAS STOPPED HERE FOR A WHILE BECAUSE THE TRAIN AHEAD HAS NOT LEFT THE STATION”. The beleaguered CEO of SMRT should be thankful for my PD.
Yes, I have plenty of blessings to be thankful for, my lively Parkinson’s Disease notwithstanding. Yes, lively. PD has made me livelier than my age permits. When dyskinesia sets in, you could see me dancing and prancing all over in public, something I would not even do in private. Let me tell you what happened last Saturday. I was walking across via an underground tunnel and suddenly beautiful music filled the place. My body started to jerk. Then my legs moved in directions which I didn't even know existed. And my body, my body twisted like a rubber band. The jerks and the twists and the whatnots were all so coordinated to the tempo of the music which came from the old violinist who looked at me with his tongue hanging out. A crowd gathered and crowd funding was redefined on that grand Saturday. Each jerk and each twist was met with a generous offering of currency notes and coins in different denominations - they found their way into this box carefully positioned near the violinist. Dyskinesia (another hyperlink for you) left me abruptly, just after 3 minutes and the crowd gave me an applause, a standing ovation no less. They were standing anyway. Dyskinesia may have left, but the dopamine level was still low so I inched towards the man who was by now toting up his takings, actually mine takings. He turned, smiled at me, picked up a five dollar note, Malaysian, not Singaporean currency, and pushed it into my pocket, saying "Good job! See you tomorrow same time!"
The nerve of the man. It was my nerves that did the trick. My entire central nervous system was put to work, he only provided the music. Yes, he will see me all right. He will see me when I have got my own busker's licence! What a blessing! PD has given me new career choices.
Yes, I can now do moves that could make the K-Pop youngsters turn green with envy. If the timing is correct and at that very moment I happened to be auditioning for AMERICA GOT TALENT, Simon Cowell, bless his heart, will hit the golden buzzer. But if the timing is not right, and I happened to be on the MRT, I could be prancing all over, from carriage to carriage, entertaining the very frustrated passengers, distracting them from their woes and the incessant announcements over the P.A. system “THIS TRAIN HAS STOPPED HERE FOR A WHILE BECAUSE THE TRAIN AHEAD HAS NOT LEFT THE STATION”. The beleaguered CEO of SMRT should be thankful for my PD.
I beg your pardon, but I do digress. Yes, back to counting my blessings - my forthcoming ON-OFF TEST! What? A test again?
To confirm that I actually have PD? No, la, don’t be silly. That was confirmed
one fine day nearly 10 years ago. This ON-OFF TEST is something else.
And it is really something else. The medical staff at the hospital will
monitor my behavior after I have been deprived of my cocktail of PD medication
for 12 hours. 12 hours! Would you believe it! Two hours of deprivation from my
beloved medication and I would start glaring at all and sundry, spoiling for a fight. 12 hours! Hold your horses. The good people at the hospital have not gone bonkers. The
on-off test is as necessary as the suffering it will cause, and the
entertainment it will provide. For without this test, they cannot determine if
I am a prime candidate for Deep Brain Stimulation.
Yes, my brains going to get stimulated. How many of you out there
can have the pleasure of brain stimulation? Eat your heart out. Only Parkies are entitled to this blessing!
But actually, I don’t need the test. I can act out exactly
how I would be behaving after 12 hours of dry season. I would either be dancing with the nurses right in the
very sanitized observation lab or I would be screaming murder and throwing accusations that the very same good people have gone bonkers. But in a soft,
barely audible squeaky voice – that is what 12 hours without my cocktails will
do to me. But no, they have to see it for themselves. It will be fun.
The low dopamine level might also end up with me crawling around, drooling like a baby. This happened once when I missed a dose just by one hour while waiting at the pharmacy to fill my prescription. A young mother, probably suffering from post natal blues, offered to breast feed me there and then. The busybodies at the pharmacy stopped her just as I was about to cry out "Mummy!" I will never forgive those sour grapes!
Another possible reaction to medication deprivation is that I could end up on the floor, rolling around, body contorted beyond recognition. And the medical staff may well start screaming “Wrong department! Get him to A&E! Must be a terrible road accident! Poor fellow. He has a foot in his mouth!”
By the way, that was not a figure of speech.
Another possible reaction to medication deprivation is that I could end up on the floor, rolling around, body contorted beyond recognition. And the medical staff may well start screaming “Wrong department! Get him to A&E! Must be a terrible road accident! Poor fellow. He has a foot in his mouth!”
By the way, that was not a figure of speech.
So I am grateful for this blessing - that if push comes to shove - I could earn a decent living as a contortionist. Or a stand-up comedian. But no, stand up comedians have to stand up all the time! That is impossible for us Parkies.
I got it. I could become a contorting comedian! Now that's what I call a blessing!
Yes, allowing me to write a personal account of my behavioral pattern instead of depriving me of my much needed medication would save a lot of trouble. I get to take my meds as they have always insisted – in a timely manner and they get to assess my suitability for deep brain stimulation! A super win/win solution.
I got it. I could become a contorting comedian! Now that's what I call a blessing!
Yes, allowing me to write a personal account of my behavioral pattern instead of depriving me of my much needed medication would save a lot of trouble. I get to take my meds as they have always insisted – in a timely manner and they get to assess my suitability for deep brain stimulation! A super win/win solution.
My written report would start with the transformation of a
usually mild and sober character into a loud and loud mouthed entertainer albeit with a squeaky voice. From
one who gulps down his dinner in 3 minutes flat (5 if the wife was glaring, 10
if the army of 3 off springs glared at well) to one who is still at the table after
everyone had left. Even though the family was still playing "Last one off the table
do the dishes”.
As soon as I am done with the dishes (in 3 hours time) I will be ready to write my next chapter. Just pray for my medication to kick in pronto.
TIPS FOR PD CAREGIVERS :
Sadly, a Parkie's reaction and behavior during "downtime" i.e. when a Parkie's dopamine level has gone below functional level is wide and varied. Also, different Parkies react differently to low dopamine levels. To begin with, the symptoms of one Parkie could be so different from the next one. Chart out the symptoms of the Parkie you are caring for, say, at one hour intervals from time of last dosage. You will see a pattern after some time and that will help you to provide care more efficiently.
Do yourself and your Parkie a favor. Google and keep information on PD readily available. Refer to them constantly. Nothing is more important than to understand the behavior of the patient you are caring for and the reasons for such behavior.
My family, especially my sons, (they were 16 and 13 when I was diagnosed) prefer to show tough love. I have stated, at the initial stage, that I will be independent, that I will do things myself and in my own time so don't give me unnecessary help. An outsider may be alarmed to see me trying to get a glass of water in my frozen state. But that was what I wanted. They will be shocked to see me lagging behind when the whole family is going out for dinner at a nearby eatery. But I don't want them to slow down for me. Sure, I know one of them is keeping an eye. Occasionally, one of the boys would leave a few minutes after me. I know he is watching how I walk, and watching out for me. As my PD progresses, the family, with a better understanding of my symptoms and more knowledge about PD, knows how to deal with each situation better. They know when I genuinely needed help, when I was just being lazy! They are also more patient. Instead of saying "Dad, don't drag your feet" the elder one will counsel me "Dad, try not to drag your feet. Walking correctly at all times, including during downtime, that is very important. You can do it. Just remember, as you are about to take the next step, to lift your leg up and put it forward." My son, he is teaching me how to walk.
And my younger boy "Dad, the taichi coach said you didn't turn up again!" or "Dad, you have to be consistent. Go to the gym for cycling and treadmill everyday!" sometimes admonishing, most time pleading!
My daughter lives in London. Sometimes I could not resist commenting on her FB posting or jump in when she and her partner banter on our "Family What'sapp" chat during the wee hours. They would respond to me normally until she realized I am in a different time zone and then the admonishment will come "Dad, what time is it! Shouldn't you be sleeping? Did you take the Tryptopthan? Take it, it will help."
She was back for 10 days recently and was obviously more indulgent, doing the little things she could. Planning things around my availability and capability, fetching things and asking constantly "You need something dad?"
My better half, the one constantly reminding me when I am in a desperate downtime situation not to panic, "breathe in, breathe out" has done a great job of raising the kids when I was travelling like crazy for my previous employer and building a career.
My family, my pillar of support. The love of my life.
As soon as I am done with the dishes (in 3 hours time) I will be ready to write my next chapter. Just pray for my medication to kick in pronto.
TIPS FOR PD CAREGIVERS :
Sadly, a Parkie's reaction and behavior during "downtime" i.e. when a Parkie's dopamine level has gone below functional level is wide and varied. Also, different Parkies react differently to low dopamine levels. To begin with, the symptoms of one Parkie could be so different from the next one. Chart out the symptoms of the Parkie you are caring for, say, at one hour intervals from time of last dosage. You will see a pattern after some time and that will help you to provide care more efficiently.
Do yourself and your Parkie a favor. Google and keep information on PD readily available. Refer to them constantly. Nothing is more important than to understand the behavior of the patient you are caring for and the reasons for such behavior.
My family, especially my sons, (they were 16 and 13 when I was diagnosed) prefer to show tough love. I have stated, at the initial stage, that I will be independent, that I will do things myself and in my own time so don't give me unnecessary help. An outsider may be alarmed to see me trying to get a glass of water in my frozen state. But that was what I wanted. They will be shocked to see me lagging behind when the whole family is going out for dinner at a nearby eatery. But I don't want them to slow down for me. Sure, I know one of them is keeping an eye. Occasionally, one of the boys would leave a few minutes after me. I know he is watching how I walk, and watching out for me. As my PD progresses, the family, with a better understanding of my symptoms and more knowledge about PD, knows how to deal with each situation better. They know when I genuinely needed help, when I was just being lazy! They are also more patient. Instead of saying "Dad, don't drag your feet" the elder one will counsel me "Dad, try not to drag your feet. Walking correctly at all times, including during downtime, that is very important. You can do it. Just remember, as you are about to take the next step, to lift your leg up and put it forward." My son, he is teaching me how to walk.
And my younger boy "Dad, the taichi coach said you didn't turn up again!" or "Dad, you have to be consistent. Go to the gym for cycling and treadmill everyday!" sometimes admonishing, most time pleading!
My daughter lives in London. Sometimes I could not resist commenting on her FB posting or jump in when she and her partner banter on our "Family What'sapp" chat during the wee hours. They would respond to me normally until she realized I am in a different time zone and then the admonishment will come "Dad, what time is it! Shouldn't you be sleeping? Did you take the Tryptopthan? Take it, it will help."
She was back for 10 days recently and was obviously more indulgent, doing the little things she could. Planning things around my availability and capability, fetching things and asking constantly "You need something dad?"
My better half, the one constantly reminding me when I am in a desperate downtime situation not to panic, "breathe in, breathe out" has done a great job of raising the kids when I was travelling like crazy for my previous employer and building a career.
My family, my pillar of support. The love of my life.
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