Living with Parkinson's


Living with Parkinson's

Congratulations to the winners of our Living with Parkinson’s Creativity Competition. Our judges were highly impressed by the standard of the entries and moved by the stories they saw reflected in the art works and poetry.

Our thanks to everyone who shared their work. 

We’d also like to thank our Judges Vincent O’Sullivan (Poet Laurete),  Barbara Strathdee (Artist and author) and Mike Clare (photographer) and all of those who voted in the people’s choice section, your participation helped raise the profile of Parkinson’s in your communities and in the media. For more about the winning entries from our creativity competition, please see the February 2015 issue of The Parkinsonian.

Parkinson's section

(Thinking about my ancestors)

Non Parkinson's section

The Mask of Parkinson's

Parkinson's section

83 Summers

Non Parkinson's section

Checking the Paddocks

Parkinson's section

The Parkie Meter Never Stops Ticking

Bed at eleven awake since three,
This never used to be the real me.
Five thirty, time to get up and take the meds,
While lucky people still sleep in their beds.
My uninvited guest changed my life,
Bloody PD you’ve cause me a lot of strife

Off to the gym for a session with Kathryn my trainer.
Gym bunny now, four days a week, with PD it’s a no brainer.
Workout, back home  shower and walk to the train,
Catch up on sleep as I traverse Wellington’s terrain.
Wellington rail, walking to work I'm back on my feet
Bit like groundhog day - step, repeat then repeat.

Nine thirty and it’s  time for the meds 
Work life balance  is a  now series of interlinking Parkies threads.
This bloody disease never stops,
BTW before my mind pops.

Five rolls round as it does every day,
Bugger missed my meds for that I’m going to pay!
Least an hour off but the Parkie meters still ticking
Who the hell did I think I was tricking?
Long off walk to the train,
Fifty minutes and Im home again.

Six Thirty my appetite gone, what do I eat? 
I don’t really care just crank up the music and listen to the beat.
Escape to another world free from the pain,
Then reality hits and I wonder am I sane.

Night time is dilated like the edge of a black hole
I thank God for my faith and my soul
The parkie meter ticks all through the night
Meds then bed, beware the night fright.

Does Parkies define me, honestly I don’t know,
The meter ticking, that’s the new status quo.
The uninvited guest that lingers and stalks
This is now how my life story talks

Non Parkinson's section

The Unwelcome Visitor

Mr Parkinson came to visit,
A year ago it was.
He brought with him his luggage
And suits he thought we’d fit.

He’s long outstayed his welcome
With his unwanted traits, 
But leaving us no option,
He shares our home and waits.

His gifts of trembling, shaking,
Quiet voice and gait,
Are but external baggage,
The inner self and spirit are
Robes to marvel at.