10 October 2010

Perhaps it's not so bad after all

JON: A number of readers took the trouble to comment on one of my recent postings. They both(!) wanted to know if my not hearing what Marie says isn’t simply a bloke thing, i.e. pretty annoying, but something you can live with. With PD, however, there is always the nagging fear that these cognitive lapses could be the precursors of something debilitating. I think I just proved that I can handle big words – but is that enough to demonstrate my cognitive health? It’s well established that short attention span and poor short-term memory can be symptoms of PD, but since they’re also established symptoms of being a bloke, I don’t suppose I can ever know for sure.

The great news of the week is that it really seems as if we have sold our old house! A contract has been signed, the cooling-off period is over, and all that now remains is for the buyers to secure a mortgage, which they claim to be confident of doing. They want the house rather sooner than we had planned on leaving it, but these days the buyer is definitely king so we’re shifting our plans to suit them. I expect much chaos and confusion will descend on us, but at least this cognitive challenge is temporary.

As it happens, the contract was signed the day before we went off to the World Parkinson’s conference in Glasgow. I’d been slightly apprehensive about going, because I didn’t really want to see people in late-stage Parkinson’s, and they were rather difficult to ignore at the WPC. But although some were in wheelchairs and others very stiff or dyskinetic, they seemed to be OK with it which was reassuring. After a while I was seeing the person and not the chair – and whilst these people represent my future, I no longer think it’s going to be too bad. I reckon I could get used to driving an electric chair – the ride-on lawn mover in the new house will be excellent practice.

Due to regulations which prevent drug companies from marketing directly to patients, we non-medic delegates were not allowed into some of the sessions which were restricted to medics, nor were we permitted in the area where medical gear was on display. Of course it was a simple matter to borrow a badge from a friendly medic and get in that way, which of course I did – but was disappointed to find the medics-only stuff stunningly dull (which may have been down to the complexity of the topic or, more likely, the poor presentation skills of the clinicians). The lectures directed at non-medics were much better.

Of course, I actually spent most of my time outside the lecture halls chatting to fellow Parkinsonians and having a fine time. What was great was that it was possible to feel completely normal. We could shake, rattle and roll and no-one batted an eye-lid – though on second thoughts, batting an eyelid is perhaps not the best metaphor…

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dear Jon and Marie.
I greatly enjoy your postings. Since a number of readers have commented on PD piping I feel an urge to greatly increase the number of comments by posting one myself.
I am a 56 year old (read young)woman. I was diagnosed with Parkinson's 3 years ago. In order to establish weather my speech is deteriorating or not,the speechtherapist often asks me if my husband understands what I am saying to him. He doesn't - and I am convinced that it is a bloke thing. I have known him for 27 years and we have always had that particular problem.
I believe it is natures way to ensure an on going conversation even after 27 years...
With Parksonian greetings
Susanne Varneskov, Denmark

Unknown said...

Jon:
I have Toro riding mower. As a mower it is ok. As a way to get around my almost 3/4 acre block, it is wonderful. Now, if I was still able to use a welder, a 4x4 version would be next!
Cheers from Downunder.

eddie spaghetti said...

Of course it was a simple matter to borrow a badge from a friendly medic and get in that way, which of course I did

That's funny. Probably the whole idea to keep it private was because it was so boring that it was the only way to get people in to notice the stuff in the first place.