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
I’m reading two books at the moment. The first is Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. The second is When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi. Both, in different ways, tackle the subject of death and try to contextualise the experience.
I don’t know about you but most of my New Year resolutions are broken fairly swiftly. In the case of those involving chocolate, fairly instantaneously. My children have even taken to hiding the Bendicks bittermints from me, fearful of their
It’s 8 am. Which would be fine if I was where the 8 AM was, if you see what I mean. Kent, in the south-east of England. But I am in Grand Rapids Michigan where the time is 3 AM.
I’ve seen enough false dawns to take a jaded view of new breakthroughs in Parkinson’s – and with good reason. People with Parkinson’s have lived with the same tired handful of medications for too long; our best drug therapy, levodopa,
The reaction of most people to a diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease is one of distress. Distress at the darkest imaginings of what the condition might bring. And distress at a future that would likely be much shorter and harsher than
Let’s start with the basics. Tom Isaacs, president of The Cure Parkinson’s Trust and co-founder of Parkinson’s Movement died unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. For CPT and PM, the loss is particularly acutely felt. Over the last many days
When I was a child, my enduring impression of retirement was one of paralysing boredom. I saw ancient wrinkled creatures who, having earned their retirement through years of hard graft, simply had no idea what to do with the time
One of the most important aspects of any piece of research is the publication of the results. This is the point where you submit your work for scrutiny by your peers. That in itself is always a heart-in-mouth moment when
Gardening is not my thing. And when I say ‘not my thing’ I mean not my thing in the sense that large wooden stakes driven through the heart are not Dracula’s thing. Or Christmas is not your average turkey’s thing.