"Parkinson's disease (PD) is a degenerative condition of the brain associated with motor symptoms (slow movement, tremor, rigidity, walking and imbalance) and a wide variety of non-motor complications (cognitive impairment, mental health disorders, sleep disorders and pain and other sensory disturbances)".
"Globally, disability and death due to PD are increasing faster than for any other neurological disorder. The prevalence of PD has doubled in the past 25 years. Global estimates in 2019 showed over 8.5 million individuals with PD. Current estimates suggest that, in 2019, PD resulted in 5.8 million disability-adjusted life years, an increase of 81% since 2000, and caused 329 000 deaths, an increase of over 100% since 2000".
8.5 million in a world population of 7+ billion, a mere statistical blip that is easily lost in the rounding off of huge numbers, is much too low relative to other diseases, yet it seems that more people seem to know about it or actually aware of someone, or "a friend of a friend" who has PD. That is perhaps because of the work that a Michael J. Fox and other luminaries who shed the light to this once obscure malady.
However, the number could be higher because in developing countries the illness is either not diagnosed or just merely mis-diagnosed for other neurological disorders. It is possible too that because it is often age-related (few exceptions like that of MJF and other young PD patients), the well developed countries do tend to exhibit higher numbers for PD, and other age-related ailments because demographics favor the survival of senior citizens - seventy years old and beyond
Where "The Other Side of Day", a phrase I just created, comes in this musing are the many forms that it is manifested, often as life's metaphor, or a realization that there is indeed that other side of day that we all must consider deeply as each and everyone of us is confronted with an ailing partner or family member, even friends with whom we relate just as intently.
I was at the grocery store's checkout line one day. The gentleman ahead of me, his cart full to the brim of household essentials, glanced at me a couple of times as if inviting a quick chat as we all waited for the cashier who was fumbling with a fresh roll of paper tape into the receipt dispenser. I initiated the conversation, "I'm glad to see another guy shopping for groceries". He replied, "Well, my wife can no longer do it. She has congestive heart failure and emphysema. She is wheelchair-bound and an oxygen tank and respirator must be nearby to her at all times. That's why I do this once or twice a week". I added that my wife too is afflicted with the chronic burden of Parkinson's. I then said, "Well, both our wives are lucky to have you and I do these chores for the household".
He replied, "Well, I look at it this way. You and I are the lucky ones because we are still relatively healthy, clearly still strong to do this chore. So I count myself very fortunate I can drive, walk briskly with a fully loaded cart and unload them with relative ease. So, we are both the lucky ones".
I had to swallow hard first before I could reply, "Yes, right you are". Before he wheeled his cart away he asked what part of Hawaii I was from. So, the reason he glanced at me twice was that he was looking at the baseball cap I had on. It said, "Hawaii". I told him the cap was a gift from a family friend who has toured the islands and added further that I was born and grew up from the same part of the Pacific region - The Philippines. Of course, he also knew a Filipino as a co-worker and they still keep in touch even after they both retired. And we bid our goodbyes.
The cashier chimed in as she was scanning my groceries. She said, "I am sorry to hear the two-minute conversation you were both having and I can't help but choke a little bit. I thought I was going to cry".
Indeed, my conversation with that gentleman encapsulated "the other side of day". And like that object in the night sky, the "other side of day" has its own phases when one cares to look closely at how life progresses over time. It is obviously apparent when the health of a spouse is affected. As the population ages, health of either or both in the partnership between husband and wife overrides everything.
The other side of day, if it were about expanding life's experiences, also means knowing the layouts of all the grocery interior of the places that are now the objects of my new routine. I know exactly that cinnamon/raisin bagels are at aisle 3 at HEB, while I know with certainty what to get at aisle H25 at Wal-Mart. It is best to avoid visiting Costco or Sam's on Wednesdays, if you want to avoid the crowd. Also, there is no recipe or example of the many ways to smoke meat that cannot be found in YouTube.
The other side of day forces us to examine and re-direct life's purposes and trajectory. Caregiving, in whatever form or degree of involvement, becomes a reality for either one in a partnership that is getting older and growing in number as a percentage of the population. Caregiving calls for acknowledging the nobility that it entails and the poignancy of purpose like no one had faced before. When it becomes apparent, the light it brings is a stunning revelation as to how life must be truly lived at its fullest. That is because both in that partnership must acknowledge with the highest degree of gratitude in realizing the full value of the train ticket they purchased however many years ago to begin the journey of a collaborated and still to be completed life.
For my wife and I, that journey is now fifty-one years to the month. We just celebrated our 51st yesterday. Of course, gone are the days of going on a trip or a treat of a night stay at the downtown 5-star hotel for a lavish evening of dinner, a show and ordering breakfast the following morning. But those memories are not to be diminished but only to be cherished. We did that just once, by the way - the local hotel thing.
The classical music station I listen to has for its slogan, "Remember, old music was once new". If music is the language of the soul, it took a lot of God's resources by way of every composer who created melodies and movement variations of the composition.
And there lies the key to those of us of a certain age. The face in a crowded room that tantalized and captured your attention decades ago is still there behind the wrinkles and gray thinning hair. It took a lot of God's material to create the beauty of a maiden among many in that room; or the angular face over a perceived chiseled body in a group of eager young men, but the years have a way of rendering those images their inevitable impermanence. But the person, the essence of his or her personality is still there. The years of journeying through the good and bad times must count for the permanent etching in the book of life.
That old lady walking gingerly across the room was once that vibrant and grinning cheerleader, or she was that gifted dark haired beauty at the school library who was both captivating and intriguing at the same time; or that the quarterback who scored the winning touchdown of the school year's last game in high school is now hardly able to tie his shoes; or that one on the dialysis bed was once that skinny, smart bespectacled nerd but way too funny to be ignored. Each a spouse, each part of the journey, so why must any of them not deserve the care and support? Like the classical music that were once new, each was created new with the same living tissues and bones put together with the blessings of The Almighty. If you or I are blessed as the fortunate capable partner, the essence of nobility in deed and intentions are for us to grab and wield in that partnership.
I swim at the gym as a goal for personal well being, to stay healthy and fit. Now the goal to better my time at swimming a thousand meters at the pool is to remain healthy and fit for the two of us because that is where necessity ends.
The quote from the title of one of my earlier musings, "For Kindness Begins Where Necessity Ends", is in essence what it should all be about in a partnership that had endured this far into the journey. Everyday on that journey makes the train ticket of life worth the cost it took to purchase it.
Beautifully written, so much truth in your words, thank you for sharing them.
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