Lately, there has only been on "P" word rumbling around in my brain. It's pretty much always there, any it will change the rest of my life. It involves little feet and lots of love and late nights and excitement. The thoughts of it tend to be self-centered and rarely branch outside of myself or my husband. They're about what I want and what I need so that I can someday share with some little person. Even though it involves someone else, it's pretty much all about me.
Until today. I met another "P" word. I don't like it very much. It made me cry. In some other ways, it made me relieved.
Doc has Parkinson's Disease.
Doc, my best friend and dad, the person I work with every day and who has supported me through every single thought that I have ever had, has Parkinson's.
We knew for a while something was up. He was having trouble walking and would seem to forget how to use his legs occasionally. He would sometimes walk with a cane, but he couldn't figure out how to use it. He couldn't get a rhythm going when he was trying to walk with it. A few years ago, he was put on a medication for what they called a "Parkinsonian Shuffle". (I have since found out that this is nothing like the Cupid Shuffle, in case you were wondering.) The medicine didn't help at all and, in fact, just made him very drowsy. They tried it again a few months later, and it made him spontaneously puke. (Beeteedubs, that was gross.) They're now trying it again. I wish they would try something else. but I guess we'll see what happens.
As a family, the diagnosis has not rocked us too terribly. We needed answers as to why he was having so much trouble, and this might be it. Maybe the medicine isn't right, but the diagnosis puts us in the correct direction. It has gotten to the point where I don't like to go out with my dad because everything he does stresses me out. I worry about him getting up or going to the bathroom alone. I worry about what he eats and choking on things. I would have to take complete control of the entire outing to make sure that nothing went wrong or I would be a wreck the whole time.
Today, I breathed a little. Maybe we will get this figured out, and I won't be responsible for worrying for two, which often feels like 10.
Maybe things are just going to be okay.
That would just be swell.
As always, it's hip to be square, kids.