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So hair we are...
Where Emma contemplates the year ahead.
Thank you as always for the wonderful emails, tweets and attention you put my way. I am so touched by many of you sending me virtual cards and festive greetings, I have the bestest readers.
2022?! I’m not even over 2012 yet. Still holding on for the Mayan prophesy where I win the lotto and retire to an Italian vineyard.
There are a lot of questions facing me as I stumble and stotter into the new year. I (finally) get my reassessment with the neurologist and get to decide whether it is time to consider medication.
It’s tough to judge objectively if I’m a billionty times worse than when I was diagnosed or I’ve just started paying attention.
It’s like when you start fantasising about buying a fabulous Harry Winston emerald necklace and then suddenly you see them everywhere… Or was it those new Doritos? Either way, once something enters your awareness it becomes dominant.
My Parkinson’s has become dominant because I’m writing about it? Or because Mr P is up in my face like a pumped sales rep?
Certainly, I think my dystonia is much worse. But here’s the rub, I can’t be sure that I didn’t just grin-and-bear-it before. I have a long history of ignoring the worst shit, admittedly wine has helped. My family can’t help, I am a master at hiding pain/sorrow/shoe receipts. But now I can’t stand to put on any shoe that isn’t soft enough to twist and contort along with my foot. I tried hard boots to see if it made the foot stay put…No, no, and definitely not.
The physical stuff the neuro will be able to assess where I struggle but what about the cognitive soup?
Writing this letter and the book seems largely to romp along but then it is mostly current and real-life. (Who’s life I’m not sure but real nonetheless) But when it comes to my other project* where I have to use imagination, plan, plot and generally multi-task in any way then my brain cells become cockwombles.
I know just to calm down, go to the appointment and trust the process. But hey, paranoia.
*The ‘other project’ will be revealed very soon :)
In short, there are many more things to worry about in this coming year, and maybe medication is the support system I need to accept so I can deal with all the other crap. Or perhaps I just need that Italian vineyard…
There will be no letter next week, normal service will resume on the 13th. I’m having a lie down in a darkened room to recover from the festive period.