Lesser of Two Evils


My name is Tim, and I have been wrestling with Parkinson’s for the past nine years after having been diagnosed at the youthful age of 55. For 6 and a half of these 9 years of paralysis I attempted to combat the diagnosis unmedicated. Although, living alone it became apparent that my ability to manage my daily affairs was in jeopardy.

Questioning medication

I reluctantly and shamefully subscribed to the medication as to not having any “options” to function. Apparently quitting is not advised.
There exists a holistic school of thought that I should of been able to defeat this enemy through meditation, diet, exercise, Chi Gong, Tai Chi, etc. But alas after six and a half years I grew weak and incompetent. “god” Forgive Me.

Previous testimony withstanding, I have resigned myself to the belief that the use of medication is more of a demon than the disease. Much of my existence lays bare to the fact “I am a product of my environment”. (A multi-dimensional disease if you will of 5 and a half decades of self-abuse). Emotional, Spiritual, pharmaceutical, chemical, psychological, social, environmental, electrical/electronic, (microwaves destroy food), digital, sexual, fiscal, physical, egotistical, acoustical, (some music/sound is toxic), tinnitus (the internal hertz rattling of my grey matter), petroleum distillates, diet, and a host of other factors that beg for definitive attention.

Addiction is a wild animal, none of us are immune. As the cliche dictates, “Choose your Vices Wisely”; coffee, shortbread cookies, a good stout beer, peanut butter, religion and an unlimited list of passions and pharmaceutical candidates.

Given the hand I was dealt, I am forced to see my glass as half full if I am to endure this disorder.

The lesser of two evils

I beguile myself into believing Parkinson’s isn’t as hideous as some other maladies, The Lesser of Two Evils, if you will. At least at the moment. But give me twenty minutes and this will change. (isn’t that the secret to a Well lived Life).

Granted I would be more content in its absence. But alas, Fate is a Fickle Fellow.

Parkinson’s has allowed me the gift of pursuing my love of literature, granted my ability to compose this soliloquy with any charm is lacking. I always was a bit of a rogue Soul.

Meditation has become a nutritious discipline and ally. To dwell on what I miss as a result of the neuropathy that afflicts me is a recipe for depression; long walks, making Love to a Woman, the list goes on.

In order for me to endure the dementia inducing nature of the medication, I have seduced myself into a hubris ritualistic “blessing the meds”, a toast to my goodwill, if you please.

After all, there is a psychoactive component to Sinemet, alluding to the comprehensive toilet paper jargon warning of the numerous outstanding side effects that lay bare the evidence of hallucinations, (who needs LSD when you got Carbidopa). One of the mantras that preceded my diagnosis is, don't do LSD in Las Vegas, do it in Yosemite or Yellow Stone.

Granted you might not post this rhetoric on your website, but alas it is my confession of innocence. May “god” show us mercy…



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