I had a rabbit called Bo short for Boudicca, she was my friend, and a wheeled her up and down in a toy pram in the tiny hamlet of Chapel Lawn in 1967. Back then I was a little girl with jersey cow eyes and blonde out of control hair. Quite a sight I could imagine, but I didn't care. Like her namesake I was feisty and liked my own space. I was brought up to be resourceful, to occupy my own time, to be creative. I was inquisitive, mischievous and curious. Nothing has changed. This is important, as I believe how I was shaped has been a huge factor in my ability now to cope with PD. All the things I have described above are all the things I use everyday to manage. And I do manage.
I may be repeating myself, but when I read all your wonderful posts I always feel compelled to write. No I don't have it easy, none of us do, No I don't have the answers, I don't do the science, I don't read, I am not in denial I simply don't want the scales of my life tipping over into the world of illness. I like things on the level.
The biggest tool I have had in my quest to lead my life as fully as possible is me, and my thinking. I haven't allowed this condition to blot me out. I have a plan for everything, I don't leave my happiness to chance, I tackle things head on, I am bloody minded and for me it works. My life is so full of stuff illness can barely squeeze into the tiny gap that is left. Yes I have tonnes I can't do, yes I get frustrated, yes times can be tough. But I am not going to let any of that stand in my way. I compromise, I change, I swap, I try and out smart, I am ridiculously busy. I don't just cope, I have a great life, the one I make. All I am wanting to say is that there is a Boudicca in all of us, this I am certain.... so when you can't hike, ride a bike, when you can't fish, get your catch by snapping your camera, when you can't read a book, write one, when you can't walk try dancing, when you just want to curl up, make some bread the smell, the dough, the fun. Oh and drink ginger beer, its great for Nausea, the bubbles go up your nose and make you giggle and its mighty fine. And yes, its ok to remain utterly miserable if you choose, happiness is not compulsory, nor am I being all evangelical. We are all different! Kindest C