My Gifted Life

I’m sorry I haven’t posted recently. This is good for me, so I’m trying to hold up my end of the bargain. This is mostly about medical things. But there’s other pieces plus the odd bit of this and that.

I had a bad run this last winter. I discovered that benzopropene is not a good Parkinson’s med for me. The result of taking if for a couple of weeks left me in rough shape, with major confusion. I wandered off a couple of times, wandered in 40 degree weather in a thin t shirt. I don’t remember much of it, but the cops who found me on the second time I wandered off. I also owe the kind people who sent me to the ER when I was out wandering that first time. I still have no recollection of that event.

Here in the aftermath I need to take a driving test looking both my driving and in particular that I’m no longer confused. Sadly I can’t just tell them I’m ok. Wouldn’t I say that I wasn’t confused?

A few funny things happed. I thought my apartment had multiple bathrooms and bedrooms. Then the live in aid or Phebe would guide me gently back to the bedroom. Crazy, I couldn’t make this up.

The covad vaccine was elusive for awhile – I get my second shot this coming Wednesday. I’ve been amazed and surprised at many details of the pandemic, but what drives me nuts are the conspiracy people and those who listen to them. This disease is fairly scary and the vaccines are either entirely safe or, Johnsen and Johnsen has a minimal 1:500000 chance of an adverse reaction. I’d take that miniscule risk any day of the week as opposed to getting covid, which has a definite chance of killing one.

I’m not sure how much longer I’ll have a live in aide. We get along wonderfully and talk a little in French everyday.

Meanwhile I need to seriously consider options in assisted living. I get around ok, at least for now, but cooking dinner is too much except for frozen meals or simple things to cook like chicken thighs. Assisted living honestly scares me a bit, and I worry about living an isolated life, although if I’m honest with myself my current life isn’t really better. Probably the most scary part is that even though I might well live into my eighties or ninety, I’ll have non stop reminders of my mortality.

Tomorrow I hope to get to a driving range and hit some balls. I’m curious whether I will have forgotten things, but muscle memory ought to do it.