Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Martha Mourns

In April, Mike and I noticed a change in his response to the Carbodoba-Levodopa.  He used to be able to make it for four hours on two pills, and would take about 15 minutes for him to get his legs back again.  Now, he started shuffling earlier, and it took much longer for the medication to take hold again. 

Michael and I were always outdoor people.  When we have time to spare, we would grab our gear and get out, out, out.  Since our first summer together in 1991, that’s been our habit. 

Because we are birders, every spring brings early morning hours, binoculars in hand, spying on nature.  Not so this year.  Like the baby bird who did not want to fledge, Mike squawked with dread whenever I proposed a birding outing.  Last year I could still drag him out “for exercise”. This year, his balking was complete.   If I wanted to go birding, I’d have to find other companions.

Michael and I have deliberately been planning for a change in the type of activities that are available to us, but, this new reality set me into a period of mourning.   I still wanted my outdoor companion and PD had stolen him from me.

I’m still climbing out of my depression.  Mike has been facing his losses since early in the game.  His wonderful spirit is an inspiration to me, and challenges me to find the bright side.  Yes, I am entitled to my mourning.  But, I cannot give into it and drag us both down.

I put out the hummingbird feeder and am planting native berry bushes in the garden.  If we can’t go to the birds, they will have to come to us.