Home, sweet home

We’ve just come back from a trip to Denmark. I had to put in a few days of work and meetings, and Jon came along so we could also look at houses. The plan, as you may already know, is eventually to move to Denmark, and these are early steps towards that goal.

The thing is that Jon has been off sick from work since August last year. During that period he has seen his works doctor about every six weeks, and each time the guy has been of the opinion that Jon is incapable of working in a normal way (or, in the local legalese, that Jon is 0% fit for work). Unfortunately, we find this hard to disagree with. While Jon can still do various things related to his old job – review papers, consult on experimental design, perhaps write up old results – he does this at a speed that is unacceptable in the workplace, with multiple breaks when some body part or other plays up. There are also jobs he cannot do at all any more, such as building testing machinery, engaging in public speaking, and meeting deadlines. Obviously, there is a limit to how long Jon’s employer is going to want to keep paying for this.

So what we think will happen is that sometime during the next year, Jon will be assessed for a disability pension, and going by what both the works doctor and the neurologist tell us, the upshot of it will be the end of Jon’s formal work life. This is a bitter pill to swallow, not least for a man who has for as long as I have known him identified himself entirely with his work and who has always claimed he would go on until they barred the doors against him. Well, as it turns out it’s not ‘they’ who are barring the doors, but Parkinson’s.

If it were me, I’d be furious and despondent and quite impossible to live with. Happily, Jon is taking it rather better, and is pretty resigned to the life changing decisions that loom. And we are trying to make this not just a loss, but also a trigger for a new start and positive changes.

Rather than fret over the loss of salary that our budget will soon have to absorb, and worry about how long Jon will be able to manage the stairs in our house (seeing that he has already had one period where that was a big issue), and rather than continue on in Holland where we do not speak the native language of the health professionals, we are going to take this bastard of a situation by the balls and plan to move to my native country of Denmark if and when Jon’s work situation gets settled.

So we’re thinking about putting our house up for sale now in the expectation that it will probably sit on the market for a ponderously long while before selling. And we’ve started looking for a base in Demark in the expectation that with our very specific wishes it may take equally long for us to find the right place. It would be great if everything could come together in some perfect ballet of timing, but otherwise we’ll just have to rent a place to tide us over.

What kind of house do we want, then, and what kind of house does Parkinson’s want?

• A bungalow, obviously, since stairs are just out of the question.
• Preferably wide doorways and no doorsteps between rooms so that the place is zimmerframe (rollator) friendly.
• Outdoor steps arranged so that ramps or similar can easily be fitted.
• A bathroom large enough for a helper, and with a bathtub to soothe Jon’s aching muscles when needed (far from a given as most Danes prefer to shower).
• Two good bedrooms as we can no longer share because of Jon’s increasing twitching and jerking (and snoring), plus an extra bedroom for when the kids visit from abroad.
• Broadband access so that we can work from home – Jon permanently and me occasionally at first and perhaps permanently later if Jon comes to need a constant presence in the house.
• Since we’re looking at rural places – both because of our budget and because I want enough land to grow apples and eggs – the heating system becomes an issue as many houses have boilers that require very regular attention which could soon be beyond Jon.
• A place in good repair as any sizeable DIY project is entirely beyond us, for reasons of physical and practical ability and because we have never enjoyed that sort of thing in the first place (indeed have in happier times sailed close to divorce over the fitting of curtain rails and the like).
• Reasonably easy access to the house itself so that there is no risk of rain or snow cutting us off from medical or practical help.
• Within no more than an hour’s commute from the main Parkinson’s centre in Denmark (which happily lies in Copenhagen where most of my family and our friends live).
• Preferably a winner in the postcode lottery of municipal services for the lesser-abled, such as home help and free physiotherapy.

And on top of these disease-ridden requirements come the normal issues that are part of anybody’s moving plans, like price and size and neighbourhood and taste etc.

So it makes sense to start looking already even though we may not be ready to actually move for another year or two – and it’s also quite good fun, planning for a new future and a new level of comfort (and having a good laugh at other people’s taste in wallpaper). We have moved about a lot in the years we have been together and have, I think, become rather good at it, so this is a bit like taking up an old pet project and dusting off our skills. I’m sure there will be a point when it all just becomes stressful and hard work, but for now it is a pleasant and hopeful way to spend a few spring days.