Coming Back From a Parallel Universe

Darn, it hasn’t worked! My new iPhone has a gizmo to do a little drawings into emails but it doesn’t seem to save them they just go into the body of the email. I really liked my first one but I lost it before I could make a screenshot. I’ll try and find it or something. But later but just letting you know I am feeling so much better now they have fixed up my medication and it’s getting back into my system after being missing for over eight increasingly horrible days.

🌄 Light at the end of the tunnel

hree weks later:. It’s just been awful. I haven’t felt like I was myself at all. As soon as I told the doctor at the hospital I felt I was l “looking out of a head wrapped in wrinkled celophane” she knew immediately what I meant.

Do not stop taking suddenly” it clearly states on the Sifrol packet (see previous blogs) but I didnt have a packet, nor were the tablets in my blister pack from the chemist because the new repeat prescription had accidentally ben omitted when the neuro printed the others out, and the chemist assumed he bad cut them, as you would. I did query why they wern’t there, and the chemists both thought it was intentional.

So my brain has been increasingly frantically looking for the missing component that stops my muscle spasms. My muscles have been cringing the letting go, and I had no control. a family of mice were runing around under my skin, my insides felt they were wobbling like trifle jelly, and there was no rest. I should have shoogled off heaps of weight, but instead am 5cms and 4 kilos in a fortnight overweight.

Feeling your buttocks slowly clenching and moving under you while sitting is like something from Alien. Today I am writing it from the outside. By the time my carer took me to the hospital last Thursday (read At the Hospital) I had been hacking people up in the most gruesome nightmare, despite never watching horror movies, and was really scared I might do something psychotic.

I also badly wanted to die, just to get out of this nightmare.

Food tasted awful. Nothing smelled right. Suddenly I hated my revamped bedroom. That one is still with me.

Add the extreme bushfire-causing 41C heat, increasing humidity and no transport to get out. They tell you to talk to someone, but honestly no one wants to know, because they have their own problems, especially at my age. I was about to call Lifeline.

My neurologist was to busy to talk to me. We had both blamed the increased dose of Xadago for my problem, so he left the msg with his seccetary to tell me to go back to the low dose if I wanted.

In fact jt was ssvere Sifrol withdrawal* My GP was away, and the other was booked for days (he nas since fefered me to a new neurologist)

Many thanks to my great friend Angela Bennett who was due to visit for the weekend but dropped everything to drive 87kms to bring me home from hospital with my new medication.

That was when the torrential rain moved in for days. My place is tiny.

Big round of thunderous applause please for Miss Angela Bennett, a true friend for over 20 years, who quietly got on with what she was doing but keeping an eye on me while camping out at my place. A true Saint. You deserve the best, Ang.🏝🎠🎪🌈

*https://myparkinsonsdiary.wordpress.com/2020/02/13/my-flying-saucer-new-medication-dispenser/?preview=true

and that was putting it very mildly! Facebook has good support groups who share and discuss. I highly recommend.

Published by Eunice C English

FormerFreelance journalist. Poet, writer, artist, photographer. Retired and coping with Parkinson's Plus, macular degeneration and other boring stuff but life is still interesting, if a bit of a challenge!

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