Plunge off a cliff? Or both? Do we experience lots of unpredictable highs and lows when we develop Parkinson’s? Lows, yes; not so sure about highs. For many of us (including me), it’s normal, normal, normal, and suddenly I’m at the bottom of a canyon, looking up helplessly for a rescue helicopter to appear. My rescue vehicle can take the form of an Ativan or a small bit of a cannabis gummy, both of which mitigate but don’t completely eliminate the aching leg and the sad brain, which occur in tandem.

I don’t think one can speak honestly or thoroughly about PD without addressing depression, a frequently overlooked symptom. For me, at 73, I not only understand the phrase “a dark cloud of depression fell over her,” I feel it viscerally. My outlook can turn from sunny to morose in a heartbeat.

“Hmmm, I guess you take things one day at a time,” people surmise, when I tell them I have PD. “Sometimes, yes,” I reply, “but often it’s hour by hour, and occasionally minute by minute.” If you want people to look at their shoes, tell them you have PD depression. Their eyeballs will be zeroed in on their footwear in no time.

But wait, there’s more! As Michael J. Fox opined, Parkinson’s is “ the gift that keeps on taking.” If you’re in physical and/ or emotional pain, it stands to reason that you might seem different to people. Add in paranoia, a not unusual symptom, and voila! It’s a new and most definitely not improved you. If you do experience behavioral or even personality changes, those around you are bound to notice and possibly alter their relationship with you, because you’re not really “you” anymore. So yeah, time to add in “changes in relationships” to the growing list of adjustments you might be looking forward to. And hey, one more reason to be depressed.

“Oh waiter,” I call from my Cannes deck chair, “please bring me a Negroni.” I indulge in some pretty ridiculous fantasies featuring romance and exotic locales, but of course one can only “live” there for so long. Back to reality where you wonder why this friend doesn’t return your phone calls as quickly as she once did, or that one declines your invitation to get together. Or at least that’s your perception, maybe based on reality , maybe not. You feel you’ve changed but you’re not certain how, or what you can do about it. Sometimes, you feel helpless and alone.

And on that note…. No, I definitely cannot end there.

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I wrote the above last night after a couple of really uncomfortable days. Unable to shake the depression, I watched Hacks, a show I really enjoy. It helped a bit. Then a friend called for a nice, long chat, which reassured me that yes, there were people who honest-to-God cared about me, just as I am. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not a work in progress.

I rose this morning, and both body and mood echoed the gorgeous Spring day, warm sun, a slight breeze rustling the trees out my window. I smiled.