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 was not always a person with Parkinson’s. For more than two decades, I was a scientist. Better than that, I was a neuroscientist. And better still, a research neuroscientist. And to be a research neuroscientist in the 1980s and
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
In downtown Grand Rapids Michigan, opposite a hipster coffee shop somewhere around the intersection of Monroe and Lyon you will find him. Usually alone. Sometimes in conversation with other street people. Mostly just whittling wood all day long, fashioning canes
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,
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
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.
Each year at about this time, we talk about Parkinson’s Awareness Day, Week, Month or what have you. And each year we hear the usual talking heads telling us that lots is already being done to make the Parky world a
If you open almost any article on the Internet about James Parkinson, the physician after whom Parkinson’s disease is named, you will see this picture. A middle-aged man with beard and moustache. But if you’re trying to trace the picture