29 August 2019


In a year of spectacular and glorious anniversaries, today lurks like a terrifying dark shadow or a permanent eclipse. Darkness that becomes more bold with every ticking minute. Intimidation that coils like an angry, agitated rattlesnake wrapped around both of my legs, daring me to move forward. Taunting me to move at all...

One year ago today, we learned Lizard does not have ALS, and I am still thankful to this day.

But one year ago today, we learned the tremors, the sleepless nights, the fading memories, the disorientation, the lapses in balance and the relentless exhaustion will not get better but in fact will continue to get worse.

Because there is no cure for Parkinson's. Yet. It is a progressive disease, and it will get worse. In just this short year, I've seen progression. I've also seen bright spots. I've searched for bright spots. I'm continually searching for natural remedies. I will fight for a cure for the rest of my life. And I will keep loving and caring for Lizard because he is the other pea in my pod. He is my soul mate. Regardless of how bad this gets, I want to make him as happy and as comfortable as he tried to make me after the trauma of my adopted kids running away and the tragedy of my emergency back surgery.

He was the best caregiver I could ever have. I intend to better his shining and compassionate example.

Regardless of how bad it gets, I will treasure every moment because every moment is a bonus. For three months before the diagnosis, I expected he would not be with me much longer. I expected amyotrophic lateral sclerosis would rob me of his wonderful personality at a much faster rate than Parkinson's can and will. I thought the six months following the diagnosis would be spent visiting family while we could. I thought I'd be spending the last two decades or so of my life alone. Again.

But that's not going to happen.

I'm going to help Lizard stay as healthy as he can for as long as he can. We're going to dance together, hike together, ride together, walk together. quilt together, play chess together and caress together.

No matter how bad it gets, I will always be his best friend.

1 comment :

  1. Hopefully you and he keep fighting the crummy disease and its progression doesn't come quickly. Helps when you have a great partner, but still health crap is no fun any way you cut it.


Dusty words lying under carpets,
seldom heard, well must you keep your secrets
locked inside, hidden deep from view?
You can talk to me... (Stevie Nicks)

All spam is promptly and cheerfully deleted without ever appearing in print.

If you are unable to leave a comment and need to contact me, please use the email address in the sidebar. Thank you!

Related Posts with Thumbnails