butchiesmom's Mood:
Last Online: 04-17-2012 03:49 PM
|
I Have Whine, Anyone Have Cheese?
Isn’t life wonderful? My first draft (a few deleted sentences ago) started out talking about my problem; a bad joke about blondes, marbles and hair dye. Even I started falling asleep. Who wants to hear about how it happened, the progression, the tests and doctors I’ve seen? Not me. Been there, done that, bought the sweatshirt.
I’m sitting at the computer, been crying a little, feeling more than a little sorry for myself and writing for the first time in months. Isn’t life wonderful? It’s early morning and my husband, Ken, is sleeping in the next room. My daughter’s cat, Pumpkin, our house guest for a while, is almost snoring on the couch. He doesn’t like to be held, but loves to sleep in my lap when I’m wearing dark pants. Did I mention he’s named Pumpkin because his color is a light orange?
Where was I? Oh yeah, pity party time. Synopsis. I started feeling off-balance, then my body started jerking backward; that progressed to hand tremors and then my legs collapsing. The neurologist said Parkinson’s disease. Not good. Now the tremors are almost gone, the falling is also nearly gone. Legs still collapse now and then, my feet started stomping, then the full body spasms started. Some say seizures, but since I’m aware of what’s going on, docs say no. The spasms are still here but slowly being replaced with limbs so tightly stretched they’re close to injury. Enough said.
Life is short. Love is long. I forget that sometimes. I’ve been to too many doctors, had too many tests, found too many things wrong with me and yet they still don’t know why my body does what it does. It’s frightening to watch and even more frightening, at times, to experience it first hand. Yet, what’s a woman to do? During therapy sessions, I would often say I had no other choice but to keep going, no matter how hard life was. My therapist, bless her heart, would point out the other choices.
I could quit; just stop going to doctors, stop the tests and learn how to live with this. According to my loving husband and friends, that’s not an option. I could stay in bed all day with the covers over my head and cry over the injustice of it all. Definitely not an option I’ll entertain for more than a few seconds. I have more options, all life-ending, some messy, some painful, some not, still none of which I consider viable. I have seven grandkids and plan to dance at all their weddings. I can’t do that if I’m not around.
Choices. Life doesn’t wait for the perfect time for disasters to happen. Nor does it consider your state of mind, health or finances. Life goes on. Hurricanes and tornados devastate lives; a diagnosis gives a person a chance to live or die. Life goes on. The world doesn’t stop because your life is crumbling around you. I’ve learned that life lesson the hard way. A jay-walking deer collided with my husband and me on his Harley Sportster; he broke his shoulder and I wound up with a broken hip. I still think that deer should’ve gotten a traffic ticket. I’m trying to remember, not everything is about me. The world doesn’t revolve around my life. I’m not on the evening news, nor are my problems being discussed by world leaders. Oprah won’t be calling to commiserate, nor will Dr. Phil call offering to psychoanalyze my problems on air.
Soon after my Parkinson’s diagnosis, Ken and I were in the ER. I had, apparently, had an anxiety attack. He had been through asthma attacks, hospital stays, a devastating nervous breakdown and my teenage daughters with me...still he stayed. When I said something to him about having a lemon for a wife, he replied, “Then I guess we’ll just have to make lemonade.” I’ve tried to remember that when things are going wrong and tears are threatening. Make lemonade with the lemons life throws at you. It’s that simple.
What’s my choice? I’m trying to look for the good things every day. Yesterday, I saw a neurosurgeon. We were in and out in less than five minutes. He said my test results were fine, but he couldn’t help me. My legs collapsed as the elevator door opened on the first floor. On the way home, I was almost in tears because yet another doctor couldn’t help me. Thursday, I had walked to the post office and took pictures of the trees, thinking how the colors radiated and how they would soon be gone. Now, I watched the autumn splendor rush by and thought of how dull they looked. I remembered the beautiful pictures I had taken and decided to think of what good had come out of that office visit. No surgery! Isn’t that wonderful?
The colors on the leaves were radiating, and the scenery was beautiful again. I still have no diagnosis for the spasms, but isn’t life wonderful!
|