I attended a conference on Parkinson’s disease where one of the speakers stated, “Hope is medicine.” In so many ways, that is so true. Fyodor Dostoevsky once said, “To live without hope is to cease to live.” As a Parkinson’s patient, it may be hard at times to feel hopeful.
One of the first symptoms that is often overlooked while Parkinson’s is making its mark on your life can be depression. By the time you are diagnosed, you may feel like your whole world has caved in and diagnosis is like a thousand ton weight of steel that has just landed on top of you as you lay there in a pit of grief.
A hard thing for us to talk about, much less deal with as a people in general, is depression. The difficulty of dealing with it only increases when you have a condition like PD, which can lend itself to making depression one of its star players. It can play a toll in the relationship between the patient and his/her caregiver, especially if we, as the patient, neglect or forget to take our ‘happy’ pills. It is my firm belief that if we are not taking care of ourselves emotionally and mentally, it will be a struggle to care for ourselves physically. When our mind is not functioning well, we tend to look at our disease with a somewhat distorted view, making it even harder to handle. Often, the distorted view only continues in a mental downward spiral.
If you’re struggling to find anything good in living with Parkinson’s, is it from viewing life with an outlook of despair and hopelessness? Do you think you may be someone who would benefit from an anti-depressant? Let me be clear – this is nothing to be ashamed of. Having PD is real and so is the depression that can come with it. I have told my husband (my caregiver) he has my permission to ask (when I feel like giving up in life) whether I’ve missed a dose of my meds. I can, within two missed doses, go from having a good day to wanting it all to end. It’s extremely hard, if not impossible, to care for yourself when your desire to keep going is all but gone. However, when your desire to live your life to the fullest is there, in spite of PD, this life can be a a pretty wonderful thing.
How can a life with Parkinson’s disease be a wonderful thing? As with any disease, it makes you take a different view of life. Your life, in particular. Where you may have once thought of yourself as insignificant, worthless, unimportant or any of those lies we tend to feed ourselves, you may now realize that you are of value. Why else would you be seeking out a doctor’s care? A support group? Because you matter. You may not have worked through the whys or the hows but somewhere, consciously or not, you have realized that your life means something.
Because your life matters, your quality of life should matter to the fullest extent in which you are capable. For example, if you can offer some time to one less fortunate – reading to a hospital patient, listening to a homebound veteran tell of his experinces – do it. Doing activities like this can often remind us that things could always be worse and how good it feels to be able to help another.
If you can sing, sing out loud. It’s good for the heart and for those with PD – it’s good for the voice.
If you love to do artsy things, don’t stop because someone told you have PD. If you have to change to a different art form, change. Just don’t quit.
Walk, if you can. This is good for the muscles, good for your heart, good for the spirit. If only intentionally around the house, walk.
Talk to someone. When we feel like a burden, we can often shut down. This is when I find it most hard to open up and when I find it most needful to do it. Let them remind you of the truth – you matter. They’ll remind you that you are here for a reason and gently ask, “By the way, did you take your happy pill today?”
Living with Parkinson’s disease is downright hard. It’s a day to day battle of pain, a fight for control, and an acceptance of the unwanted. It’s learning how to live a new normal while everyone else continues with the familiar. It’s learning to realize you matter and there’s a reason you were chosen to carry this load, to walk this path. So, while on this journey they call Parkinson’s disease, take care of you. Take good care of you.
And don’t forget to take your happy pills.
“If you’re reading this…
Congratulations, you’re alive.
If that’s not something to smile about,
then I don’t know what is.”
Chad Sugg, Monsters Under Your Head
Originally published 12/2016