I have been taking my "artificial dopamine", pramipexole, for
about five weeks now.
The good news is that my Parkinson’s symptoms have improved
greatly. I am now able to touch type
this text fluently, write properly and even my constipation has got a lot better. I still have a bit of discomfort in my
shoulder and some occasional shudders in my right arm but overall I am able to
function normally. There have been no
repeats of the pre-Paris near death experience….
I am also starting to feel like I am constantly on a
high. Several times this week I woke up
suddenly at 3 or 4am and was unable to get back to sleep. But the drugs swirling around my brain, like
(I imagine) ecstasy or cocaine, kept me wired through the work days. I felt weird at work all week: alert and able
to function pretty well, but slightly detached from reality: tuning in and out
of conversations and off, even more so than usual, in my own world.
The dopamine highs of this week have largely caught up with
me now and the weekend has been one of trying to catch up on sleep.
A month or so after my last run, the motivation is starting
to return a little and I went out for a short plod in the bright early spring
sunshine. I felt part of a community
again as I passed various men and women out doing their Sunday work out. One young woman was wearing a pink breast
cancer charity T-shirt which briefly filled me with optimism. After a couple of kilometres, I actually felt
pretty good and started to get that familiar feeling of getting into a running
rhythm and, dare I say it, some enjoyment at last.
When I am in the running zone I barely look at the road
beneath my feet. Through tens of
thousands of miles pounding all manner of surfaces I have become subconsciously
programmed to navigate different terrains, and automatically adjust for bumps,
dips and other obstacles.
So I was surprised when I crossed a road and twisted my
right foot on the kerb. I squealed in
pain as my ankle turned outwards and I strained various tendons. After stopping for a few minutes to let the
pain subside, I limped home. It was not
a major injury but my foot will no doubt be sore and swollen for the next week or two.
I have transitioned between road and pavement countless
times on runs and never tripped like this before. But, of course, my brain is still struggling
to send the correct signals to the right-hand side of my body and I failed to
re-calibrate for the sluggish movement of my right leg.
A sobering reminder that, despite my dopamine highs, I still
have Parkinson’s.
