Are You Gonna Go My Way? My Story of The Sparklies (Pt 2) x

Ok Blogbods...you got through the sad one (well done, thanks for sticking with it!) I have a little saying which goes a bit like: "You've got to wade through the stinkerific, shitstorm of Crapville, in order to truly appreciate the wonderous glow of Sparkly fabulocity." You dig? Feel free to quote me, I'm all about sharing. Who's ready for Act Two? Really? Ok, snuggle up then Poppets.....off we go:
So, this is how I feel.......Honestly, truly and with hand on heart, I have never ever done the "Why me?"/"Poor me"/"What have I done to deserve this?" scenario. It's just not me, that's not how we roll. Looking back through old photos, it seems like I've always had a bit of a dicky left arm and along with the spooky big right thumbnail/small left thumbnail craziness that one neuro noticed about me, it kinda seems as if something like this was always going to happen to me.
So I'm left figuring out what to do with this new facet to my life. Parkinson's (or Sparklies as I like to call it, you guys know me now, so it's new name is surely no surprise) is here to stay. Yes, it sucks big time, not just for me but also for all those amazingly precious and treasured people who love me and care about me. When I think of it like that, then I get sad. What to do then? I could bitch and moan, cry and wail about the overwhelming injustice of it all yada, yada, yada. Oh and please, if you've reacted to your diagnosis like that, I don't want you to think I'm judging or belittling your reaction, everyone is different. It's just that, when you're done crying and shouting and banging your fists, it's like oops it turns out there's Little Old Sparkly Knickers, still there giving a cheeky wink and a knowing smile. So I have a choice. Do I accept it, or fight it? I choose to accept it and all the potential shit bombs it can throw at me.
My deliciously amazing, maddeningly wise, no-nonsense, crazy ass therapist once said to me: "LIVE IN THE NOW" (That implies she shouted it, she never, she's actually very softly spoken...I just wanted to make sure those of you at the back in the cheap seats were still awake and with me) This has been perhaps the very best advice I have ever been given. (as well as moisturise daily, always be polite and never trust a man without a belt?!?) She also came up with "co-operate with the inevitable" in other words deal with it if and when it comes. So that's what I do. Every day I give a little nod of thanks to this amazing lady who I met at just the right time and who I credit with arming me with the tools and skills to survive this virgin territory I now shimmy through (in heels, and often a tiara) I'll tell yer this kids, so far so good :-)
The thing I resented the most about my Sparklies was that it had robbed me of my confidence and ability to dance. You should've seen me on my 30th birthday Blogeroos. I tore up the dancefloor like a woman possessed. That feeling had gone, I was utterly bereft of mojo and I knew that I wouldn't truly have this bolshy mare back in her box until I was back rockin' the dancefloor again.
Here I am telling you Funksters that said dancefloor is now regularly ignited to within an inch of it's life on a regular basis by little old moi. Thanks, in no particular order to great music, adorable friends, my meds and the renewed confidence to dance my skinny little butt off. Talk about every cloud... I must tell you about the day I got into a slinky size 10 (SIZE 10!!!) sparkly ra-ra dress. That was a moment of excited mini hand clapping and a slightly weird little dance in the changing room....I'd never been a size 10. Remind me to divulge more about morphing into slimtastic Svelterina Ballerina another day. You girlie wobblers who are new to the Sparklies, will enjoy......
In short, telling family = very fecking hard (especially because my parents and sibling live on the other side of the world) Telling friends = easier. I even thought of having a 'Coming Out' party with wobbly jelly and cocktails (shaken not stirred, of course) but thought it might fall flat on it's arse, you never know do ya?
I have got to say my support network are nothing short of amazing. My darling husband (we call him The Chief) keeps me grounded and the awe and respect I have for him for the truly classy way he has dealt with this Parky business is huge. He loves me, no matter what. (Despite the sad and sorry deflating of my once ample and badoingy-bouncetastic fun puffs - All Hail the Padded Bra!!!!) The vows we made to each other hold true and I don't want to say anymore because I want to tell you all about my wonderful man in a post all to himself. It is important for me to thank him for his love, his voracious quest for knowledge and information and the way he tells me it's going to be ok.
I am under no illusions that I am currently in the 'Honeymoon Period' but honestly my little chick peas, I feel the outlook I have adopted works for me. Good always follows bad like sunshine always follows rain and better yet, I can rock a pair of skinny jeans like you wouldn't feckin believe!!!! Ha ha ha :-)
Where am I at right now with my Sparklies? I'm kicking it's arse! I am living and loving with all of my heart and soul. Who knows what the future holds? No-one does, so on with the dance. As I have said before, I refuse to let this road I'm on be for nothing but positive gain. I intend to make a difference not in a dickhead, pageanty kinda way...but in terms of the message I can give, the incredible people I am meeting, the wonderful places I will inevitably go to. It's all good, it can never be anything but good. I have a wonderful future ahead of me, what a feckin awesome ride it's gonna be! Are you in? Ahh, go on now, get yerselves a seat on The Spangledangle Wibblytastic Funkylicious Sparkle Bus. Everyone who's anyone will be there. Driver? Are You Gonna Go My Way?...........xxxx