Tree Pose Part II

Frank Weighs In

Frank –

Bullshit. I look at my lovely wife of over thirty years. I know she believes what she said, and it pains her beyond belief. But I don’t believe her for a second. I won’t. I can’t.

So much has happened to her in this year alone. She hadn’t been herself for a while, right hand tremors, body aches, and always exhaustion. Our doc wanted her to see a neurologist, as soon as covid was no longer restricting things. And then in February while she was in surgery for a complicated hysterectomy, both our mothers died within a week of each other.

I got her where she needed to go for both, and she brave-faced it throughout. But got back to bed as soon as she could. Months after surgery recovery, her depression cratered. She stopped eating. And lost thirty pounds.

I took her to the doctor. Pushed her to eat. Anything. Tapioca? Ice Cream? Mashed potatoes. She refused. But I kept at it, encouraging her to get out of bed. Sit outside. Go to therapy. Little by little it started to change, and finally after a year of struggle, despite bouts where she again might think she didn’t love me or anyone else, she started to rally in time to keep herself out of the hospital.

In a few months after that last severe depression episode with the psychiatrist sorting out the meds, Margaret admitted she did love me, and other people as well, including, conditionally, herself, we set up the appointment with the neurologist to see about the shaking hand and balance. We researched on Google. Looked to us like it was probably something simple like Essential Tremor, we thought. Nope. The neurologist set up more tests but said he could tell already. She had Parkinson’s.

Lucky for her I had ADHD and Bipolar 2 – those of us with that brain wiring have great focus in emergencies. Pretty solid caregiving skills too. We’ll be okay. Besides, she knows she loves me again. And I love her.