It may be tasteless of me, but whilst the world sits on the edge of possible Armageddon; political, economic and military and the stock markets try and decide whether to go the full meltdown or not, I sit, without any feelings of guilt or remorse, with an ice cold beer on a Greek beach, enjoying the view and the sun, and the food. For which btw there appears to be no portion control, they are ridiculously large. Almost as if everything that is served has been 'super sized'.
I am also deliberately ignoring any and all bad news and anything else that can possibly interfere, with my pursuit of relaxation, gluttony and drink.
In short, I'm doing the full Boris. The main difference between us is that I'm not a leader of a country that I'm meant to be running. Or I suppose by now, was meant to be running.
For me, if I don't get to relax, eat as much as possible and drink enough beer to give the local brewery a financial boost, I've not holidayed properly. I enjoy doing the odd tour or boat trip, but nothing I do, or want to do, involves effort greater than getting up to the bar. Or even better getting the staff to go to the bar for me, in which case all I have to do is attract their attention.
Which is all well and good, but doesn't help with my PD. The complete lack of proper exercise, the overconsumption of alcohol and the absence of anything approaching a balanced diet, are all things your Consultant warns you against. And pretty soon I start to notice my brain going fuzzy, as the fog descends.
However as I don't really intend to use my brain for the duration, I choose not to care. Although I do also like to read a few good books.
When my son was 10/11ish, we started a habit of selecting some water sports to do on the last day of our summer holiday. This was pre-PD and we both loved it, the adrenalin rush pulling us closer together. Ok, they weren't real sports, they entailed lying or sitting on a blown-up ring, or something attempting to resemble a banana or sofa, attached by rope to a speed boat, then dragged around at high speeds, in an attempt to shake you off. Pre-PD I was like a limpet, unshakable, whilst my son tumbled into the sea at regular intervals.
Oh, how I laughed.
What a change today. I grip tight, determined to show my son, now 18, that I'm still the pack leader, ready to give him a cuff if he tries to replace me.
What hubris and vanity! It is fortunate that I'm not the uber male in a pack of lions. I'd be given a real tanning by now, as the pride decides that it doesn't want a semi-arthritic leader, probably with early-stage dementia, running things. And who could blame them..
Nowadays it's me tumbling off the blown-up ring, arms feeling as if they've just been wrenched from their sockets, whilst he laughs as I attempt to clamber back on humiliated.
But it's not all bad, the effort required and the adrenaline produced gives me a decent dopamine boost. It's just a pity it's too expensive to do daily! However, for a little while, the brain fog does clear a little bit and I realise that I've been away from the bar for too long.
Which thinking about it, probably doesn't help.
The wife understandably can get a wee bit bored by all this boozing and inactivity and has made it clear she wants to rent a car and see more of the island. Unfortunately one of the tedious obstacles I've had to face this year is the complete incompetence of the DVLA. I applied to renew my Driver's License back in March and I'm still waiting. It should have taken three weeks. Sadly this means the wife will have to do the driving whilst on holiday. I suppose I should welcome the additional dopamine the fear of my wife's driving causes, but I can't.
I just wish I was doing the driving!
In fairness to the wife, having seen the roads through the towns and villages, the term narrow doesn't do them full justice, I'm not entirely certain I'd want to be a passenger whilst I was doing the driving either!
However neither the water sports or exploring the island by car compensates for the gluttony or booziness of the holiday. I could and probably should, go jogging daily. Perhaps add an occasional hike, go for a swim, cut out the drink and eat more healthily. But I'm on holiday for goodness sake. If I want to be miserable I can stay at home. It's a lot cheaper.
However early on in the holiday, even I became alarmed by my expanding midriff, so I decided to take advantage of being right by the med and do a daily swim. I'm not a particularly strong swimmer and besides which PD sufferers, due to the stiffness common to the disease can find the coordination required for swimming difficult. So imagine my surprise when I walked out into the Med and started to swim, to find myself swiftly and easily moving to every stroke. I was elated, up to then I had been the weakest swimmer in the family, I quickly found myself halfway along the beach.
This was great, the sea was warm and I decided that I was right to make this a daily event. Then I stopped to turn round and swim back. It was like moving through treacle and the demoralising realisation happened. My swimming wasn't better, I'd just been aided by the current.
Much, much later I arrived back at my spot on the beach. Knackered and disillusioned. My resolution to repeat the swim daily abandoned. Still, at least I'd done my 40 minutes!
Going on holiday with early stage PD, isn't a big deal. Apart from the obsessive checking of your medication to be certain you have enough to cover your time away, with a bit extra for emergencies, like cancelled flights and remembering to keep it in your hand luggage, there should be little issue with it.
We all have different ways of holidaying. but however you holiday, unless we are fortunate, eventually with PD progression, it will become increasingly difficult to take the holiday we want. Speaking to some later stage sufferers I know, they say the health issues so often associated with the later stages of Parkinsons, make it impossible for many..
So whether your holiday is to go hiking in the Alps, surfing in Cornwall or having a boozy, gluttinous holiday in Greece, go for it. We don't have all the time in the world.
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