This evening, I met with a group of heroes. Yes, heroes. Or to be more exact heroines. Young women, juggling work, and caring for a large family with taking care of a husband with Parkinson. The challenge is far from easy.
I’m still in the beginning stages of the disease, and thank G-d the progression is slow. By nature I am fiercely independent and hope to remain that way. It was sobering, and scary, to hear the women speak of getting up five, six times a night to help their husband walk to the bathroom. Of of the logistics of arranging for a person to accompany him to shul in the morning, or and then again in the afternoon and evening.
So many men, and women, have worked hard, fought, and despite succumbing, continued the battle. I am in awe of the brave Parkinson warriors who are waging a battle where victory is measured not by what is gained, but by what is not lost. I am also in awe of the care-partners who, rather then complain, try to find solutions — while trying to explain to their five year old why Daddy can’t do the things that other fathers do, and dealing with their teenagers embarrassment at having a father that drools.
It was an eye opener to hear what it’s like to be the partner, rather than the participant, in this battle. But one thing is obvious. we’re all in the trenches.
This evening, I met with a group of heroes. Yes, heroes. Or to be more exact heroines. Young women, juggling work, and caring for a large family with taking care of a husband with Parkinson. The challenge is far from easy.
I’m still in the beginning stages of the disease, and thank G-d the progression is slow. By nature I am fiercely independent and hope to remain that way. It was sobering, and scary, to hear the women speak of getting up five, six times a night to help their husband walk to the bathroom. Of of the logistics of arranging for a person to accompany him to shul in the morning, or and then again in the afternoon and evening.
So many men, and women, have worked hard, fought, and despite succumbing, continued the battle. I am in awe of the brave Parkinson warriors who are waging a battle where victory is measured not by what is gained, but by what is not lost. I am also in awe of the care-partners who, rather then complain, try to find solutions — while trying to explain to their five year old why Daddy can’t do the things that other fathers do, and dealing with their teenagers embarrassment at having a father that drools.
It was an eye opener to hear what it’s like to be the partner, rather than the participant, in this battle. But one thing is obvious. we’re all in the trenches.
