As Parkinson’s symptoms worsen, I am grateful for all that is going well in my life. I’ve decided to mount a comeback.
Parkinson’s, you no longer get to enjoy a predictable reaction to your craven overtures. After almost 18 years of dealing with this cowardly disease, I can now see that Parkinson’s is terrified of losing its power through the recognition that it is no more than a nuisance.
I intend to have fun. Parkinson’s loses any perceived power it may have wielded when dragged from the darkened corners and exposed to laughter’s light.
It’s been eight years since I managed to complete “Eagle,” a one-footed balance pose requiring extreme focus and strength while balancing on my boat’s cockpit rail. I posted the 2014 video of my success just before the uncertainty of brain surgery. To lead off my comeback, I revisited my boat rail this afternoon.
On my 9th attempt, barely able to balance with both feet, I lifted my left foot and promptly fell in the 48-degree water. Some might view this as a failure. I do not. In fact, my reaction as I saw myself plunging into the chilled depths was to say, “Oh shit” and laugh.
We will all lose capabilities, eventually culminating in our death. That has always been the unspoken finale of life’s contract. But that’s okay. As I write this, two hours after the shock of hitting the cold water, I am energized, eagerly awaiting Parkinson’s next challenge. It’s all good.
Some of this might appear excessive, but that’s the point, we will wage this battle at the edge of control. Parkinson’s, prepare for an ass whooping.
I am truly blessed. My most significant source of happiness emanates from a rekindled joy in wearing the disease openly, subordinating Parkinson’s pain, discomfort, slowness, and fatigue in the warm embrace of fully living life.