Let me first state that I am not a Navy Seal, I was a member of a police Emergency Response Team for 19 years. But I do hold a lot of respect for their “No Quit” attitude.
One Parkies Night Before Christmas
Due to a series of unfortunate events, our local U-Cut Christmas Tree place declared a shortage due to the loss of 15,000 trees because of a fire, the heat dome and a plague of locusts (OK maybe no locusts). Anyway, we hastily planned our annual pilgrimage to the tree farm a full week earlier than usual and found a great tree, got it home, put it up and decorated it with the usual pomp and pageantry.
Once it goes up, I pride myself in caring for it and insuring that it doesn’t become a fire hazard or needle shedding mess. So until I come up with a better system, it requires me to get my butt out of bed around 3:00am and water the tree. A few years ago this did not pose a problem, but Parkinson’s has thrown a wrench into a fairly simple procedure.
So, this time my alarm goes off and I quietly drop an “F bomb” and start to gingerly manoeuvre my under-medicated body up and out of bed. I get my right leg out from under the covers and I hook my toes under the wood sideboard and find some precarious purchase, push up on my elbows and pivot around and get feet on the ground. Mr. bladder thinks, “Oh goody, I was waiting for this, you better hurry or I will go without you”. Great...a series of old man noises follow and I’m vertical and Mr. Bladder responds to the gravity of the situation, my shuffle quickens and “phew” I make to the intended destination in the nick of time.
Hmmmmmm.....next dilemma, what to wear? Who am I kidding, there is no one else upstairs except Noella and I so off I shuffle (it’s what we Parkies do when unmedicated) in my birthday suit. Halfway down the hall, Mr. Foot Cramp comes a calling and the toes of my right foot clench impossibly tight, second, third and fourth “F bombs” follow in rapid succession. I grab the bannister and try not to fall over as I desperately try to relax said foot. With no relief in sight, I weigh my options…call out to my sleeping wife to rescue me? Very unmanly....what would a Navy Seal do? Soldier on of course. So I start hobbling on my good foot and the heel of my right foot, which causes me to clench my toes tighter and now it’s exquisitely painful and I want to scream, but I try to breath through it. Mr. Bladder says, “Hey, I wasn’t quite done back there, quick hang a left here”. Into the can I hobble, standing is not an option, so I sit much to the Navy Seal’s disgust. This unplanned stop provides a moment of clarity as my foot relaxes and I peer between my toes hoping to find diamonds where the fuzz balls were (yes…that tight). An artificial tree would be nice.
Whew, off I go again with some trepidation, waiting for Mr. Cramp to come back. I make it to the bookshelf where the remote light switch is. I push the button and the dark room is suddenly lit up like a 70’s Disco Bar. I stand in awe of the spectacle, lost in the moment. What an awesome tree we picked. Then I realize the blinds are open and the neighbour’s place across the street is lit up inside and their blinds are open too. Sniper instincts kick in and I hit the deck and reassess. Surely they didn’t see me, did they? “MOVE!”, the Seal says, “They’re gettin’ a bead on your position”. I belly crawl on at least four appendages up to the tree, carefully navigating the step down into the living room. The watering can placed exactly where I left it beside the tree. Safe now from the neighbour’s prying eyes, I kneel and pour water into the thirsty tree stand. Mr. Bladder responds. Don’t even think about it...you’re done. I stand and realize I left the remote on the shelf. I throw caution to the wind and shuffle back to the switch and shut off the tree lights and breathe a sigh of relief.
I get back to bed after an uneventful retreat. My wife wakes up and asks how it went. I reply, “No problem, took lots of water.” Mission accomplished and dignity intact unless my neighbours start giggling and pointing at me suddenly.
A taste of my own medicine 
Welcome to my nightmare!!
My Neuromodulation Neurorehab Stack.
My experiments with supplements
My husbands Ode to Dyskinesia 
