I have Parkinson’s and I work for a Parkinson’s charity. During the working week, I eat, sleep, breathe and think Parkinson’s. It’s unavoidable. It’s part of my make up, whether I like it or not. It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I remember before I go to sleep. It’s part of what drives me on. And it’s full on.
But when the weekend comes, I try to forget it. I try to close the door on Parkinson’s. I like to see my family and friends, watch cricket, listen to music, enjoy a glass of wine, take photographs, make glass, think and write. 48 precious hours each week in which to clear my head. And every hour is precious.
The weekends are a Parkinson’s free zone as far as I’m concerned. And as much as is possible. So if you want me to think about Parkinson’s at the weekend, remember what you are taking away from me. If I sometimes seem a trifle grumpy, that may be the reason why. Or I may just be a grumpy old git.