I’m awake at a tad after 5.30am and can’t get back to sleep. I lie awake until 7.30 and then decide to get up. I have an online interview scheduled for this afternoon with Karl Sterling from New York, who runs Parkinson’s Regeneration Training programs. I haven’t finished preparing the answers to the interview questions that Karl emailed to me, so I really feel a pressing need to pull my finger out and get on with it. I’ve still got the dreaded lurgy – my nose is streaming and I’m wheezing and coughing. I obviously have the bug going around that is being referred to as “the Queen’s cough” (because Her Majesty has been ill with it for the last week or so).
Downstairs, tea, Nutriblast, paracetamol, Strepsil – soon I’m feeling about halfway human… I light the fire at 9.30am because I’m feeling cold – I know the house isn’t cold, so it must be because I’m feeling weak, infected and pathetic. I walk the dog, listen to PopMaster, and then I’m ready to do some work.
I prepare a comprehensive script for this afternoon’s interview (which is about Parkinson’s Disease, DBS and exercise), and then have sufficient time to split a load of logs and fill the log basket.
The interview gets off to a bit of a bum start because my MacBook is too old to run the videoconferencing software the Karl uses, and the iPhone version (which I do have installed) doesn’t allow him to record the video. We decide to do an “audio only” interview, which goes very well. I feel happy with the content, and so does Karl, so that’s good! My tremor (which was well controlled beforehand) is coming through quite strongly all over my body by the time we are finished – the result of being in a stressful situation, I think. I dread to think how bad I would have been if I hadn’t prepared my answers. Tremor is the only symptom that appears to be affected though. Luckily my voice is quite strong today, and I didn’t feel that I was struggling with it at all (and we were talking for almost an hour).
Just time for the afternoon dog walk before it gets dark – it’s another grey day, but at least it isn’t raining. More paracetamol. I slump on the sofa in front of the fire, self-medicate with cannabis and await the return of my wife from work.