Tuesday, September 27
Left ankle is still sore, the pain continues to move around, but is not as sharp as it was. Met my ex-neighbor, Giancarlo at Palace Caffe afterwards, and even though I was feeling pretty symptomatic and off-kilter from not really walking, we had a nice conversation. Rested briefly before lunch, worked at the computer after, then napped for about 40 minutes and woke feeling more symptomatic than I’ve felt in weeks. And atypically so. Typing very erratic, overall discomfort with muscles; not tight really, but “on alert”. Movement not slow, but “confused”. Tremor barely reads, if at all, but really shaky after my nap. Very strange. Difficult to get out of a chair. Voice is only half present. Generally a feeling of wanting to escape my body.
Late afternoon found me feeling much better with really intense pins and needles in arms and head. Evening walk was also distorted by pain in left foot and ankle, but we managed six laps – very slow, mostly shuffling. As weird as I felt this afternoon, I feel good tonight; the body and brain are doing their thing.
Wednesday, September 29
Early walk today with what was at first a very sore left ankle. After a few minutes, Valerie passed by, and with the help of her company we managed to do eight laps with occasional pain and very little “perfect feet”, but at least there was movement. It honestly felt that without the ankle pain it would have been an exceptionally good walk this morning.
Typing is smooth. Took a forty-five minute nap at 15:30, and woke barely able to walk.
Shiatsu this afternoon was thorough and, as ever, powerful. Michele did some very specific work on the left foot, and it paid off later while walking. He said that the legs have grown stronger and that the upper body is good and loose.
The major shift for me is that I no longer expect Michele to “fix” me, rather that shiatsu is a part of the healing process. That allows me to let go and enjoy whatever comes along, although I admit to still being disappointed when he enters the final stretch. I always want a session to last longer.
The evening walk was damn good given that for the first two laps the ankle pain was pretty bad, but we ended up doing nine.
Thursday, September 30
Good walk this morning, very little ankle pain, very little shuffling, only one cat (black, with fur like velvet). Otherwise, feeling moderately symptomatic, but part of that is due to a dislodged contact lens at 02:30, after which I only managed to sleep two, then another three, hours.
I read more of Recovering from Parkinson’s, sections on stimulating the striatum, a part of the brain associated with how dopamine is distributed, among other things. It refers to research by Andrew Newberg and Mark Waldman into how brain health is affected by meditation in all of its expressions, from prayer to mantra repetition. I was inspired to chant, but when I tried the cough would come back, so I repeated silently along with a 40-minute recording, followed by 22 minutes of silent repetition on my own. I came out of it with symptoms greatly reduced.
My mornings and evenings are highly structured around walks and meals, but afternoons were spent sleeping until a few weeks ago when sleep patterns shifted again from a plentitude to a dearth. Since then, the afternoons have become five hours to be gotten through. So, now I have a pattern to follow; short nap, mantra repetition, instructional reading, Italian study, some writing. I’ve been deprived of much of my accustomed independence for most of the last year and a half, which is ideal for establishing healthy new patterns in how I use my time.
Friday, October 1
The morning walk was accompanied by live music on a grand piano set up in Piazza del Duomo. I treated myself to a cappuccino chiaro on the way to, and a spremuta on the way back. I saw friends in both directions that I’ve not seen in months or years, most of whom live in Orvieto.
And somewhere in the midst of all that, was a period of easy communication of the heart – the real thing – something else not experienced in years and an essential aspect of the recovery from Parkinson’s process.
The walk itself was good. Lunch followed, and a half hour nap followed lunch. I woke feeling strong and solid, but barely able to move, and with persistently itchy feet. Chanting restored some movement. Pins and needles are still periodic, ankle and shoulder pain is almost completely gone. The dull ache in the lower back persists, but is a universally experienced recovery symptom, so that’s a good thing.
By the way, the red fungus on the feet (a recovery symptom, too) has cleared up, and my toenails (which for the past year, at least, resembled rotting parchment) are growing back with a healthy clarity.
The evening walk was the best, so far; upper body starting to swing and sway, feet taking full articulated steps, posture erect most of the time. And there was a sizable wedding party in the piazza that serendipitously broke into applause as we finished laps. Fun.
Saturday, October 2
The pianist was in Piazza del Duomo again this morning, and again the walk was above average; though not quite as encouraging as the one last evening. I napped for about ten minutes before lunch and for twenty, after. Both were sound and felt like I’d slept at least an hour.
Something I’ve been having difficulty with is getting up from a sitting position. The last few days I’ve been employing visualization just before I have to rise, and astonishingly, even imagining the action once makes it not only possible, but often makes it easy. When I forget, I go right back to struggling. I realize that that sort of ongoing visualization is what I often do during walking sessions, imagining each step before I take it helps it be silent and shuffle-free; trains the brain.
Psychologically, the big retraining challenge is unworthiness. I’ve been aware for many years that in my adult life there was almost nothing I wanted that wasn’t offered me, and that my reflexive response is to hold it at arm’s length or not to notice it’s being offered all because I feel less than worthy to receive it. Or, a variation, that I see fulfillment as my taking advantage. Or, another variation, that I haven’t earned it; fulfillment comes too easily. This is true of everything, and is huge obstacle to accepting recovery.
Sunday, October 3
It’s the third or forth day that legs, especially, have been limp (a recovery symptom) and I forget to factor that in to the quality assessments of our walks. Doing that takes them from just okay to quite successful.
This morning the weather was stunningly lovely, the streets were active with guests dressed in beautiful colors, and the pianist was in Piazza del Duomo for the third day. We now exchange waves with both him and his wife (when his hands are not otherwise occupied).
We stopped for coffee on the way with Roy and Deb (and I discovered that Diner is a Polish surname… who knew?) and Roman threaded his way skillfully through the crowds.
It was a beautiful morning walk. So was the evening passeggiata. I discovered again how normal people throw their feet up and forward to introduce each step (whereas people like me have formed a habit of striking the ground heel first) and making that adjustment makes all the difference. Learning to sustain it is the next adventure.
Monday, October 4
A perfectly (new) normal morning walk, but without tourists, cats, or soundtrack it seemed rather dull. But the most notable development was that today for the first time in at least a year and a quarter I am able to lift myself from a sitting position using only my legs. Look, Ma, no hands! At the same time I feel oddly limp (a recovery symptom), but that makes the muscular recovery all the more remarkable.
On the other end of the scale, my voice is very hoarse today, distractingly so. I am told that it will heal in its own time, not to push it or view it in a negative light. The strong legs afford me a lift in more ways than one.
Also, as sometimes happens, in spite of feeling weird after a nap today, there was a period of absolute stillness, no tremor, internal or external. At times like that, I feel as if a full recovery is just a mental leap away, but I can’t yet figure out how to propel one. Perhaps my legs will provide a clue.
Several periods of intense pins and needles – mostly arms and face – happened this evening.