Where does old age begin? Don’t worry – I won’t be asking questions. It’s sort of rhetorical. I’ve been wondering but without really reaching a conclusion. My father defined old age as anything beyond 40. Until he was 40. Then
Hope is back on the agenda
The average person with Parkinson’s lot is not a happy one. An increasingly acknowledged litany of non-motor symptoms add to the obvious freezes, shakes, rattles and rules that make up our daily repertoire of silly walks. We shuffle and glide,
Self-experimentation in medicine: my choice, my decision
Anyone who has ever tried to conduct medical research will be familiar with the workings of the ethical committee, an institution appointed arbiter of what research is or is not acceptable. Pretty much all institutions that conduct medical research have
Cooky and Jimmy
Anyone who believes that test match cricket is a dull, dreary, ritualistic relic from another time should have witnessed the events at the Oval today. This was test match cricket at its finest, full of intensity, passion and commitment. This
Why have we largely ignored non-motor symptoms in PD?
I often have the feeling, rightly or wrongly, that medicine is happy to investigate those areas where it is more easily successful than those which prove more challenging. These are in essence the low hanging fruit, easy wins for impatient
Awareness, advocacy, activism and action
There exists a relationship between patients with any condition and the researchers. For some conditions there is barely an acknowledgement of each other. For others, such as AIDS, the relationship is much tighter, with a strong knowledge interchange between the
Having my cake and eating it
Fourteen months ago I made the decision to “retire” from the Cure Parkinson’s Trust, where I had served for five years. It was a tough decision to say the least. CPT has been my “other” family for nearly a decade,
The Candle and the Fire
It is a year since the Parkinson’s community lost one of its strongest advocates, a full year since Tom Isaacs passed away unexpectedly early one May morning. I remember the phone call from Helen, mid-morning. She said hello and asked
Club cricket – one from the vault
Written in 2011 but still tickles me… For reasons that are generous but entirely unfathomable, at least to me, the last few Saturdays have found me not only playing cricket, but captain of our club’s 4th XI. The Bells Yew
Speaking in tongues
There are times when I like to delude myself that I am a serious writer, that I can string words together in ways that touch readers. I like to feel that my words have impact, that they demand reaction. This