I was talking to a friend of mine on the internet about what sort of dad I had wanted to be before and after my Parkinson’s diagnoses. This got me thinking about the thoughts that went through my mind at the time.



For that richer tomorrow
I had only planned it yesterday
There, it lies, fragmented
Desolate in the hallway of my mind
That blue print, MY blue print
Ground into the carpets weave
As if 'worked over' by an industrial vacuum cleaner
Parts flake off, my future floats away
Like the ashes from a burning fire
They say I’ve got an involuntary tremor
Or this Parkinson’s gig
Why me WHY MEeeeeeee!
I’ve got a wonderful wife
She doesn’t deserve all this
And my boys, MY BOYS
They are only young
They don’t want a dad
On meds destined for a wheelchair
Fingers crossed for tremor

I went to see this specialist today.
‘One more test for you, Mr Golding’
BASTARDS, I’VE GOT PARKISON’S
That’s it life over, totally screwed
Why couldn’t you tell me four years ago?
When I started putting my family through it
Started four long years of study
For a degree i can't use
My future, a huge metal climbing frame
Twisted into impossible shapes
Fashioned by this, this jug-naught thing!
Why me God?
Why couldn’t the truck turned off earlier
Instead of me being up the junction
My whole LIFE is down the pan
My plan, My plan
My ………..flush

Dawns first awakenings rush into my mind
In the hallway of my mind sits my phone
The green answering machine light flashed
On off, on off, on off ON
Was I actually dreaming?
Pressed the listen button, eh
“This is deep thought”, this voice said,
“we have come up with a plan”.
I splashed cold water on my face
Starred at this bloke in the mirror
Then my face light like a 200watt light bulb
YES, if I just do this, tweak that
I HAD a plan, I can achieve, I will achieve
That metal frame is forged anew
Got myself a new flexible enabling plan
Got choice, got my goals
Parky will always be nipping at my heals
But for now Parky mate,
I’m in charge
Its two fingers to you.

© Phil Golding 9th October 2007