Over the past four weeks I have had three surgical procedures. The most important of which was to implant electrodes in my brain. This morning, I walked out of my neurologists office up and running and programmed. I have become medically mechanized.
My purpose is not for covert government acts like the Six Million Dollar Man or the Bionic Woman. My purpose is quite simple, actually ~ I want to be “normal.” For over two years I have not been able to write a check, a shopping list, balance my checkbook, or any other form of written communication. It’s been five years since I have been able to apply even a little mascara to my eye lashes. It has been about three years since I have been able to cook and prepare food, chopping and measuring ingredients without having to plan a trip to the Urgent Care clinic before dinner is served. Little by little, what I could do to has withered away and left the world of possibility for me. Simple became hard, very hard. I prided myself on finding just the right solution to my dilemma. At first it was a simple kitchen tool. Alexa became my best friend preparing shopping lists. I kept simplifying everyday tasks trying to move them from the can’t do to can do list.
There comes a point when accommodations take over your life. You have different expectations of yourself and how you operate in the world and others have different expectations of you. My beautiful coffee mugs that I have collected over the years were traded for adult sippie cups. That is when you gather all of your stamina and reach for the brass ring!.
In March I made the decision to have Deep Brain Stimulation Therapy. It was not a decision I made easily. It was a matter of quality of life. The possible side effects could affect my life, and my quality of life, forever. But, being in a situation where I cannot increase medication and am left with a choice of only sitting back and watching my situation deteriorate and able to do nothing to improve the situation was not a viable alternative. I decided it was a risk I had to take!
DBS is a surgery that is done on patients with Essential Tremor (which I have) and Parkinson’s Disease. It has been a long road to being given my magic little remote control. I am ecstatic that I live in a time when DBS is a possibility. It is an inherited disease. I am at least the third generation to have tremors.
I saw someone write about their “herd” the other day. ` None of us can move forward without the support of our Herd. Profound thanks to all who offered prayers publicly and privately, good wishes and healing thoughts ~ some of you not even knowing that you were supporting. I could not have done it without you. Special thanks to my brother, Bill, who gave up 10 days to keep me safe, secure and entertained. He was starting to look like the Where’s Waldo? of Facebook. He returned to MD for his own shoulder replacement surgery next week. Thank you to all of you ~ for your support.