She was an excellent secretary. She could keep me up to date on the conversation going on in the Parkinson's Chat Room, proof-read my newest blog story for typos, help me come up with words that rhymed for my songs, pay all the bills, keep my checkbook balanced, give me the proper answer to the question my Wonderful Husband just asked, remind me to take my pills and wash my cereal bowl, and she could do it all at the same time. She had been with me all my life. She was the one who got me those straight A's in school and the near perfect SAT scores. She took care of the serious stuff, so that I could have fun. She was a part of me.
|YumaBev being silly|
My cereal bowl was the first clue that something was wrong. When I would get it out of the cabinet in the morning, it wasn't where it should be. One day, my Wonderful Husband asked me about the Chat Room and I realized I hadn't been in there in weeks. The bills were still being paid, but they weren't being filed away. Her usually tidy desk was a mess. It was around this time that I realized she was gone.
I tried to figure out where she went, and why. I think she left because of the working conditions. I think she got tired of all the drugs that were flowing through her work station and just decided to sneak out one day. I wasn't sure what to do. I needed her. I was not handling her disappearance well. I decided to see if I could find her and convince her to return.
I asked my neurologist if we could do anything about the drug problem. I was convinced it was the increase of a certain drug I was taking that caused her to leave. By my best guess, she left shortly after my dosing of this drug doubled. He suggested DBS, the Deep Brain Stimulation surgery. He said it should decrease the drug situation, but didn't know if my executive secretary would return.
I wasn't sure I was ready for brain surgery, so he adjusted my medications instead. After a few weeks, I started to see a difference. The cereal bowl was back in it's place. (It turns out that I was leaving it on the counter and my Wonderful Husband was washing it and putting it away). The pile of paid bills was being filed. I found time to tackle a sewing project and found that I could chat at the same time. My executive secretary was back! She wasn't as good as she once was, but after all, what could I expect? She has Parkinson's, too, and all those drugs I take, go right across her desk.
She and I had a long talk one day and we decided to consider the DBS surgery. I am taking medicine every three hours from the time I wake up until the time I go to bed and she thinks that is excessive. We sat down and had a long discussion with my Wonderful Husband, we explained, as best we could, what had been going on. The idea of brain surgery scares the daylights out of him. I can't say I'm exactly thrilled about the prospect, but I want to keep my executive secretary happy. I need her.
|My Executive Secretary|