We can’t seem to get anywhere near our target of getting to bed at 10pm. Last night we failed again (miserably) because we were too engrossed in a program we were watching on Netflix. I’m feeling fine, though, when I wake up – it is later in the day that it catches up with me (or perhaps it’s just Parkinson’s fatigue, and it makes no difference whether I get to bed early or not – who knows?).
I walk the dog, check my emails, deal with several YouTube messages that have arrived overnight and then catch up with the news online on The Metro website.
My walking still feels very sub-standard, my balance isn’t too bad, my tremor is close to the surface (but better than it has been), my voice is rubbish (husky and disappearing at times), muscular weakness and stiffness is uncomfortable but bearable.
I want to do some work at the allotment this week, so I get the petrol strimmer out of the shed, and make sure that it’ll start after being stored unused for the last 8 months or more. It does, and I wander up to the allotment and attack some of the overgrowth with it, and run the lawnmower over some of the less unruly areas. I’m only there for about 30 minutes or so, but I feel that I’m staggering as I walk back home, and I virtually collapse onto the sofa when I get through the door. Fatigue descends on me like a black cloud, and I feel incredibly tired, weak and feeble – I could actually go to bed (if I had the energy to get up the stairs). By the time I’ve recovered sufficiently, I decide that I’d better have a bath (I’m covered in bits of strimmed vegetation), and the bath does make me feel a little better.
My wife arrives home from work, we eat dinner and then settle down in front of the telly to watch another episode of the highly addictive Luther on Netflix.