It’s been roughly 6 months since Parki officially took up 
residence in the temple also known as my body. It was a fairly swift and somewhat rude introduction. He didn’t ask to enter. Didn’t come via the usual visa application process. Just a bit of a tremor and a flutter of the left arm and badabing badaboom, “you have a new room mate.”
He certainly has made an impact. Firstly on my wallet with the amount of prescribed drugs I need to take each day. This is now over $130 per month just to provide some measure of drug induced control. The second and much more positive impact is the genuine care and compassion that so many dear friends have expressed. Like me, they don’t like it that Parki has taken up residence in Casa McIvor. If there was ever an upside to such a condition it’s that you get to have a real sense of the love and care that exists in your circle. The third thing would have to be the humour that people take a risk to share with me. It usually starts off with a somewhat sheepish comment to test the water of my humour; when people realise that having a laugh is an appreciated part of the therapy then the interactions that follow are usually pretty funny. Special mention here goes to my good mate Scott Rolff, whose commentary can’t be repeated here, but it’s good therapy administered with the best intentions.
In guitar land there is not much more to report than was said last time. I still play almost every day. I still feel a small loss of dexterity but nothing that is yet pointing towards a finish to all things guitar. The vibrato any time that I play slide guitar is better than it’s ever been. (All you guitarists will smile at that one!!) Oddly enough, the arthritis that I struggle with is causing more grief than Parki can administer.
The really curious interaction has been with people who are keen and willing to share with me some fandangled treatment, or dare I say “cure”, that has somehow escaped the attention of the medical world and that at their unction I should embrace (usually at some significant cost) because they are convinced that it will make a difference to my wellbeing. Don’t get me wrong, I love it that people care enough to want to help. I have given up explaining that there is no known human cure on the planet. As with any disease, there is always research and the hope of a breakthrough, but for now I will have to contend with jokes about shaking Stevens, the Hakka, and getting a job mixing cocktails somewhere. Darlings, love ya, but any help you could give me won’t revolve around “here take this drug and you will get better!!” If you really want to help, then buy me some red wine. My GP and the specialist reluctantly admitted that red wine has some efficacy in dealing with the symptoms.
So, what happens now? Parki being the greedy sod that he is will possibly make a play to move into other areas of this temple, once again without asking permission. I have sentries on constant watch, keeping a close eye on the temple horizons for any advances. (The main sentry being my beautiful, ever loving, always supportive and Angelic wife) If that happens, well we will just deal with it won’t we? I don’t like being unwell, I mean, who does? I will embrace the opportunity that this gives me to re-focus on my life, where it is, where it is going, and just what I should be giving more value to. I know that sounds a little cliched but it is the truth. It’s funny, Bernie & I were watching a show a few weeks back, and Michael J Fox came into the cast as a surprise guest. If you don’t know who he is, he is a well known actor who has suffered from Parkinson’s disease for some time now. When he entered the scene in the show we were watching, with his full blown Parkinson’s on display, centre stage, well I had to walk our of the room. I hadn’t really given a lot of thought as to where all of this might be leading until then. For the first time I realised that I was on something akin to a carnival ride that I really didn’t want to go on; but the seat belts were on and the ride had started, and there was no way to get off until it reached its destination, whatever the heck that was. I could protest the ride, to no avail really. Or I could embrace it, and see where this test of my character was taking me this time. I hope I pass the test!!
Finally, and most important. Faith. I’ve been mentioning all along that there is no known human cure. And so it is. Bernie & I are people of faith. We have been so all our lives. We will never claim to know the answers to most of life’s riddles. We know that supernatural healing is always a possibility that we both keep on our horizon. There are many dear friends who constantly remind us that we are in their prayers, and this is a thing too beautiful to pass over. Will I be a recipient of such a miraculous healing? I don’t know the answer to that, but it would be a wonderful thing to tell of wouldn’t it? I pray, I hope.
In the meantime, pass me another red, put me in the drivers seat of a b-double, and let’s all get on with whatever life throws our way.
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