Time and its uses

JON:
Chronically sick people have a habit of saying that there are good days and bad days. Well, I’m having a bad month. I have upper and lower back pain, my knees are stiffening up, my mood is – well, you can see that from what I’ve written: my mood is subterranean. I just want a day off, one day free from aches and pains, one day when my brain works, when I can sit down comfortably and with ease. But it seems that is not going to happen, ever.
I suppose it comes as no surprise that pain is, well, it’s a pain. It’s nowhere near the severity it was prior to getting diagnosed, and my painkillers are fairly effective, but I do find myself living from pill to pill. I feel crap for an hour before pill time as the previous dose wears off, and for an hour after taking the pills while I wait for them to take effect. In between, I’m a bit spaced out – literally at the moment because I’m reading SPACE, a good thick novel about the space race.
And then there is the feeling of being pathetic. Last year Marie wrote a book, this year she has organized its publication, book launch, promotion etc. Also kept her business afloat, worked for her freelance clients, washed the floors, cooked, cleaned, etc. And what have I achieved this year? Bugger all, is what. A couple of blogs (though written mainly by Marie) and depressingly little else. How much of this is due to me being a lazy sod, and how much can I lay at the feet of the Parkinson’s gods (intentionally very small g). Well, depression and apathy are common PD symptoms, while being a lazy sod is down to my defective chromosome (laziness comes with the genitals). But I didn’t use to be lazy. OK, I never did much around the house, but I did do “stuff”, and I don’t like doing “nothing” instead.
I read a blog recently (PD and ME) where the blogger wrote: “I don’t want to play any more, it’s getting boring, someone hurry up and find a cure”. I couldn’t agree more.

MARIE:
If you want something done, ask a busy person, they say. I have become a busy person, and so am getting more and more done each day. Work is going well in the sense of being demanding of my time and attention (which is how I like it), more and more of the housework falls on me, and I also insist on continuing with the things I enjoy – my gardening in particular.
It’s as if Jon and I are on two opposite trajectories of time, his getting ever slower and mine ever faster. Which at times makes him feel feeble and pathetic, and makes me feel rushed and hard-done-by. I’m not sure that there is a solution to that, beyond just getting used to it. And making sure to take the time (on my part) and make the effort (on Jon’s part) to meet in the middle often and with affection.
What I find hard to bear is when he is down in the dumps, as he has been recently. I so want, in my practical, annoying, bustling-around-and-sorting-out way to do something to make it better. Make a hot drink, massage a shoulder, fetch a plaster. Sadly, Parkinson’s does not allow for quick and easy fixes, just one long process of acceptance – which, I suppose, is really quite like life itself.