By Anne Atkin March 16, 2010
In 2005, I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s and straight away there was this persistent voice in my head that was saying the same thing over and over, “You’ve got Parkinson’s. You’ve got Parkinson’s”.
So I sat in the neurologist’s room trying to cope with what was happening, still thinking that the diagnosis was wrong. I couldn’t have Parkinson’s. That was something elderly people got, elderly people who shook a lot and I didn’t shake. The diagnosis must be wrong. My frozen shoulder was just that, a frozen shoulder. Admittedly I had had it for years but maybe mine was stubborn. As for the other symptoms – the weakness on my left side, the drooling, the pins and needles, the fatigue, the aches and pains – there was a perfectly logical explanation. “it’s menopause, it’s because I’m middle-aged, it’s anything but Parkinson’s.” I was scared and as far I was concerned, this was the end of my life as I knew it. All my plans had just flown out of the window.
But the voice in my head knew what it was talking about. I did have Parkinson’s. The twenty eight 11 year olds in my [...] continue the story