Monday night was particularly weird and tumultuous, even during these times of unpredictable sleep patterns. Around four in the morning, I wrote Janice (Hadlock) at the Parkinson’s Recovery Project. I had already submitted my weekly report, but felt compelled to write again. This is that exchange.
“Dear Janice,
An extraordinary report for an extraordinary night. First, Monday’s events and changes.
At some point in the afternoon I was laying down on my back, I ‘heard’ a click, and something in my neck let go; the words that went with it were ‘from effort to trust’. Since then even though movement has been as hard or harder than ever, the sense of heaviness behind it has gone away; for example, I’ve been able to do swinging exercises easily that were very difficult as recently as Sunday.
However…
Sunday night I could not sleep. At around 05:00 I gave up, put on lounging clothes and made the bed so I could rest on my back. I was asleep within minutes and slept for three hours. So, Monday night I decided to rest on top of a made bed in something like pajamas the whole night from bedtime. I lay down at 00:30 and slept for an hour and a half. My left foot and calf were active (spasms, jerks, and twitches) for what seemed in my dream state the whole time, and almost without pause (the left foot had the surgery). Turning over or adjusting positions was as if I were dressed in fly-paper. At at least one point I began to tremble all over, and seemed it could become violent if I were able to release — but a good thing, however unpleasant. Dreams turned to nightmares, limbs to lead, left foot to a block of wood, and foot and calf to constantly active raw meat. When I finally woke I got up, had a bit of water, and went back to laying on covers, I was surprised that the bed was barely rumpled, it felt like it should have been chaos.
Then I fell asleep and repeated the whole experience.
Getting out of bed the second time was even harder, but once out the left foot fell quiet and even though standing and walking was painful, it was no more so than has been usual for the last few days. Typing is a little awkward but not terrible. Right arm is notably loose. I dread another session, so may stay up awhile. It all feels like more than it appears, and although my inner voice says that it’s ‘all melodrama’ something weird is going on.”
I stayed up for a half hour during which Janice wrote back.
“this is recovery, not withdrawal. so cool. congrats!
not for the faint of heart. this is your body coming back to life and starting to notice all the horrors that have been accumulating in your body as you were busily ignoring it.
this is fantastic news. yes, it can seem like the universe is testing you. but these are just the torments you’ve hidden from yourself and/or created in your mind to keep yourself obedient to the mindset of Pause.
fantastic.
and see why i get so livid when people say, ‘well, if a person recovers, probably the person was misdiagnosed’. no. no no. the stuff that happens during recovery is so bizarre. it only happens to people who are recovering from parkinson’s. and each person’s stuff is unique. this is not ‘projection’ due to having read my book. if you’ve noticed, the recovery chapters are nearly half the book. and keep repeating the theme ‘each person’s recovery is unique.’ because this is a mind-created syndrome. and each person’s mind had its own reasons, and created its own storyline. so each recovery is its own incredible event.
you’re doing great. hang in there.”
My response to hers…
“Wow, that is not at all what I expected to hear back! I sort of thought (and still hope) that there might be hints of what is going on with my feet in all of this. Well, great!
My third round was preceded by warm milk with a splash of rum, and consisted of 90 minutes of good sleep mostly on my back, no Bosch paintings. I’m going for the vibrating chair now, then a ride to Bardano to get my first shot.
Thanks so much for the quick response! And the great news! Andiamo avanti!”
That exchange says it all for now. I’ve been sleeping like a baby ever since – and on a baby’s schedule, too.