Hairdresser

I’d been needing to go for two weeks. I’d tried salvaging it with a little mousse, gel and wax, but without much success. At the kitchen table the kids suggested: short isn’t necessarily the answer, mama. True, but neither is long. So, off I went to the hairdresser. She’s young, meticulous and doesn’t sport a […]

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What to say to a person without Parkinson’s. 9 Tips.

Some of my best friends don’t have parkinson’s, but I still respect them. It can be hard though, to know exactly what to say at the right time without putting your foot in it. I mean, if you don’t have parkinson’s, what DO you have? Can’t be anything special, now, can it. But that’s where […]

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The worst parkinson’s prejudices are mine.

The great thing about getting a nasty disease is that you start to appreciate the little things in life soooo much more than you used to. Isn’t it just wonderful to watch the sun rise, set, or whatever your sun does? To hear a bird sing, even if this particular little thing does keep you […]

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Minions in waiting room

That’s what it should say. No entry for those with a nasty, incurable disease. On Twitter, news sites, newspapers and, most importantly, magazines in the waiting room. Even the most widely read women’s magazines can be an absolute minefield. When you least expect it, they might run a special on your specific illness, and just […]

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Here to Wherewolf

Parkinson’s manifests in a sort of delayed delivery of messages, from the brain to the hands for example. I go to pick up the toothpaste, but it takes just that little bit longer than normal. You walk down the stairs and your leg is a faltering cogwheel. Your foot lands differently than expected. Not quite […]

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Get up and go

He: What’s changed since last week and now? Nothing’s stopping you from going to that business meeting with the Chairman of the Board of Directors at this regional health care organization. He’s your client, isn’t he? Me: Yes, but I’m probably going to burst into tears, he’ll see what’s wrong and then I won’t be […]

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voldemort and parkinson’s. face your demons.

Waiting for the tube in London, years back. Opposite on the wall was this great billboard, promoting lipstick. Which in itself is an alien concept to me, if it wasn’t for the powerful copy. It said something along the lines of: Face the Boss. Face your ex. Face the undertaker (ok, made that one up). […]

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Sobsnivelsniff

You bump into a friend, they ask how you’re doing, and snap – you burst into tears. You don’t want to cry. Not again. Because it invariably prompts the question: you’re still having a hard time coming to terms with it, aren’t you – isn’t there someone you can talk to, a psychologist or something? […]

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That’s what I call comfort.

Summer 2013. Off to France for a family holiday. The boss of the holiday village is a straightforward Dutch guy. Pensionado, builder, fond of rough language. Boss says: why are you stressing about so much, relax, woman, you’re biking, swimming, walking – why for x sake? So I tell him why I need to get […]

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Afraid

I thought that I was scared, but it seems that others are every bit as scared as me. Scared of me, my Parkinson’s, my fear, my tears. How you notice exactly, I can’t quite put my finger on, but you do notice. An imperceptible, almost reverent expectation. And then comes the inevitable question, the question […]

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