This time round we’re organising the Parkinson’s Awareness Super Cure Games. The whole world is taking part, so millions of people. We’ve divided the Games across a number of different countries. Every country has its own team of players, its own audience and is vying for the same trophy: The Super Cure Trophy. To make things a little trickier though, each country can only win 1 small piece of that Trophy. And you don’t know before hand which piece it will be or, indeed, with which other country it will fit.
No one knows what the Trophy looks like
You don’t know what the Super Cure Games Trophy actually looks like either. It’s a sort of holy grail. We need to stick all of the pieces together, but we don’t know in advance what the duplicate, incorrect, or faulty pieces will be. Neither do we know how much the Trophy will cost or what it will deliver. The only thing that is certain, is that it’s a definite money spinner. Think about it – all those competitions being held in stadiums all over the world: researchers researching, pharmaceutical companies manufacturing drugs, nurses, doctors and therapists looking after patients, day in day out, and the patients themselves.
Gathering all of these people together for the Super Cure Games costs a tidy sum, I can tell you.
No one has ever seen the Super Cure Trophy, not even once. And although many have glimpsed a small piece, this often turns out not to be a genuine part of the trophy after all. You can dream about it though. I do sometimes. I don’t really care what the Super Cure Trophy looks like, so long as it works. Preferably in 1 clean sweep and without any hassle. Although, I’d happily take whatever’s on offer, just to be shot of that terrible future outlook.
That constant knowing, that 24×7 awareness that you have Parkinson’s and that you’ll deteriorate regardless. Knowing that you’ll progressively lose an entire series of skills is more than awareness. It’s a certainty. For you, Parkinson’s Awareness Week is not one, but 52 weeks a year. You’re in that battle arena each and every day.
Join the Super Cure Games
That’s why I’m participating in the Super Cure Games. Along with millions of others. And it’s going swimmingly! Roaring from the stands between mouthfuls of hot dog, a stadium wave every few minutes, the excitement slowly building. Until finally the Players walk out onto the pitch, and there’s music, lights, wow, what a show!
No two players are alike
Hold on, no team shirt? Hey, that’s strange! These players all look different? Men and women, white coats and tight dresses, even young children and wise old researchers, all on the same playing field. How could that possibly work? Have these people really trained? And which national anthem shall we sing? What? No national anthem? I suppose that makes sense, as the players have 1 combined goal: to win their piece of the Super Cure Trophy. The only thing is, there’s no visible opponent. It seems as if each and every player has to fight their own individual adversary. One looks rather tired, the other simply bursting with energy.
As many motives, as players
Every player has their very own motive for taking part too. And, if it sometimes looks like the professionals are the strongest and loudest contenders, then it’s for good reason. Because, you professionals don’t go to bed with Parkinson’s every night, so you’re naturally a little more perky on the pitch. You can afford to crow a little more loudly about your supreme condition, your burning ambition and your amazing team. Which is fine. A little publicity never did any harm. Providing you distinguish between those who do and those who do not have Parkinson’s as a bed fellow. The patients on the pitch, they’re the real diehards. They’re well trained in falling down, getting back up and remaining optimistic. Hardly surprising then, that it’s those same patients who are coaching the professionals, helping them devise their Super Cure Tactics.
Totally prejudiced referee
The referee blows the whistle and the games begin! Bring it on! But, hang on a minute, what referee? In fact, there is no referee, only a team of Patients. Nice and biased. And everyone – the public, players and viewers at home – is rooting for the Parkinson’s Awareness Super Cure Games Team. This year’s particularly thrilling. It’s the grand finale, the ultimate, decisive contest. Dear Parkinson’s Awareness Teams worldwide: please give this Games your absolute all, so that you can deliver your little piece of the Super Cure Trophy to the Parkinson’s Global Team.
Never ever give up hope.
Never give up hope that this year will be the year that we finally manage to stick all of those little pieces of the Super Cure Trophy together. Let Parkinson’s Awareness Week 2017 be our last. Ever