Tulip designed by Karen Painter

Monday, January 4, 2010

GUEST POST: A Son's perspective

I was asked by my mother to write a post here, and at first, I didn't know what form it would take. No surprise there, solicited entries tend to be difficult to compose, and when it's on a topic of particular importance (I love my mother, and I have a huge amount of respect for her ability to stay relatively sane while dealing with this disease), the process can be more daunting still.

It occurred to me, though, that the reason I have such a difficulty is not because I can't think of what to say, but because I have way too much to say. You see, I have a degree in biology with a concentration in neuroscience. I am well-versed in Substantia Nigra lore, dopamine uptake and the selective nature required to avoid schizophrenic symptoms, as well as the evolution of treatments and research surrounding Parkinson's. I almost never think about that world anymore, with the notable exception of whenever I think about my mother and her Parkinson's.

So, what does a person do when they have an overabundance of knowledge and someone in their life who is touched directly by a part of that knowledge? For the most part, you shut up, you hug your loved one, and you provide the best emotional support you can. At least, you do that if you're strong enough, and you almost never are. At least, I wasn't, not at first.

It's very easy to get caught up in your own emotional reactions to a person in your life with a condition such as Parkinson's. You think, "If I talk about it, I'll jinx it. It'll get worse," or you feel too uncomfortable speaking about it because you know that your intellectual understanding is absolutely incompatible with an experiential understanding. And so, to the person you love, it can almost seem like you're ignoring them.

And with that realization, I figured out that there's only one thing I really want to say in this post, and that is, always make sure the affected person in your life knows how much you care. It doesn't always have to be a display of sympathy or empathy, but just something as simple as asking how they're feeling that day, or making sure they're comfortable after work, or offering to drive to the store so they can rest.

Parkinson's is difficult to deal with--I can't even imagine, so I won't try to comment on that. But as a bystander, and a person with extensive knowledge of the subject, I can tell you this: love and affection really do make things better. And that goes for you, too. Express yourself, have a dialog, and be sensitive. It's not possible to turn Parkinson's on and off. It is possible to get over yourself.

That's a lesson I learned the hard way, and I'm so glad I did.

I love you mom!

1 comment:

  1. Thank you, Sam. I love you too! Excellent advice! It's true that all the information in the world does not come close to what a loved one needs from her/his family. Love, compassion, an open heart and a willingness to listen are more appreciated than anything else you have to say or to give.

    ReplyDelete