Sleeping Beauty

Last week I had to go to hospital for a Datscan. Not my favourite thing at all! I hate needles, especially those that are stuck in my veins,,,
Anyway, the nurse was smart enough to let me lie on the bed while she performed her duties and I was fine. Next, I had to see the doctor who was confident enough to let me sit on a big black chair.
I began to feel hot and sweaty. My head felt light. He told me I was having a panic attack. I was not. I was as calm as the morning sea. I warned him that I was about to faint. He kept talking to me, reassuring me that I was not. I was right and he was wrong. As he tried to administer the drug I lost consciousness. For three seconds or so he told me when I woke up feeling as if I had had a nightmare.
He had to call his blue eyed assistant to distruct me and only then was he able to succeed.
It was pretty funny to see the amazement in his face. He had been so sure about it! He never expected to end up with a Sleeping Beauty in his hands!!!

Waking up is never easy

Waking up in the morning is one of the hardest things when you have PD.
Sleep makes all symptoms disappear. Dreams make anything possible...but as soon as your eyes open, the temptation to stay under the covers, curled up like a snail, is huge.
That's why I have an alarm radio! The music wakes up my mind before my body wakes up.
I do some Feldenkrais exersises on my back which give me the energy to wake up completely.
Then all I have to do is follow my morning routine and I am ready to conquer another day.

Remember to breathe

A mixed media canvas painting inspired by my physiotherapy sessions I had because of my frozen shoulder. A life changing experience that reminded me how to relax and take a deep breath.

A PD poem: Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes

You feel trapped

Deep inside a narrow burrow

Underground

And the air around you is

So thin, so smoky, so bleak

Like a nightmare

Suffocating you

Under a pillow

Sometimes

Pain grabs you

From your toes

And creeps up

Like a slithering snake

All the way

To your heart

Sometimes

Your voice is only a whisper

As soft and quiet 

As snowflakes falling from the sky

And your words get mixed up

Like naughty children

Playing in the schoolyard

Sometimes

It feels as if giant roots are growing fast

Under your feet

Holding you down

Like a big maple tree

In the middle of nowhere

Sometimes

You walk slower than a tortoise

Carrying your heavy shell

Of worries

And things slip

through your fingers

Like sand through an old hourglass

Sometimes

Your lids are so heavy

You long to sleep

Like a bear in a winter cave

But the heat wave that hits you

Is so intense

You leave water footprints

Behind you

Sometimes

You resemble a big burst balloon

Floating in the sea

The happy party moments

Are long behind you

And the only thing left

Is to pray

Waves of Wonder

Our lives are full of waves. Sometimes the waves are small and kiss your feet gently, sometimes they are big and strong and carry  you far away. A few times they are waves of wonder and they change our lives forever. This is the story of such a wave.

It was a warm, sunny day in April. Just perfect for a walk. The distance was rather short. So I decided to walk…but then something very strange happened. Something I could have never imagined and I can assure you I have a very vivid imagination...

It was just like trying to walk in the water. The air had suddenly acquired such strong resistance that it was almost impossible for me to walk without dragging my feet which felt heavy and weak.

I realized there was something terribly wrong with me. I remembered how my second grade pupils had noticed my left hand fingers tremble the previous month and commented that I was moving in slow motion.

As I come from a family of doctors it was pretty easy to reach a diagnosis. My dad, an experienced pathologist, was convinced when he saw me walking that I had Parkinson’s disease and so I had to see a neurologist and do some tests to exclude more serious conditions.

A week later it was official. I had Parkinson’s disease and would have to start medication immediately.

The diagnosis came as a gift for me. I dreaded something much worse than lining slow in a fast world. I wasn’t sad. In fact I was relieved that the treatment didn’t involve surgery or injections or losing my hair. Instead it opened the door to a magical world that involved eating healthily, exercising moderately and creating endlessly.

This wave of wonder brought a lot of new friends for me. One of the most important is Didem, a talented English teacher from Turkey who invited me to teach at her school and encouraged me to start this blog.

So I dedicate TREMBLING TALES to her and hope it will be a source of inspiration for anyone with a chronic disease.