This month I explore more about what it means to have Parkinson’s.
Here is the science bit. Parkinson’s is a neurodegenerative disorder that affects predominantly the dopamine-producing (“dopaminergic”) neurons in a specific area of the brain called the substantia nigra. Reference: Parkinsons.org
I guess the most famous person to be dealt this blow is Michael J. Fox, who is at the forefront of research. More information is available at the Michael J. Fox Foundation. There is also evidence to suggest that Deep Brain Stimulation through implants can affect control and movement. Reference: Johns Hopkins Medicine.
My dad had Parkinson’s and I am trying to understand what may have led to this debilitating disease.
I have a passion for scientific knowledge especially when it involves us humans, helping ourselves by understanding how we are affected physiologically by — well, just about everything around us: people and environment as much as diet and exercise.
As I am constantly trying to put my 30 years’ experience of live-in care work to good use, Parkinson’s is a particularly good example of why individual pleasure is important and how to release that all-important dopamine.
Once science told us that dopamine plays a big part, I started to recall just how many of my Parkinson’s clients would cease to have tremors as soon as they were involved with something that gave them pleasure.
If you are a carer, a friend or family member of someone needing care, it’s worth trying to find out what makes someone happy. In other words, never assume, even with the most debilitating cases, that they won’t be able to do something.
On the contrary, I now realise that I can pinpoint the beginnings of dad’s symptoms when he gave up the thing that gave him immense pleasure. In his case, horse racing — or more precisely, betting on the horses.
Every Saturday morning was filled with excitement. He was never an early bird the rest of the week but woe betide the paperboy if the newspaper was not landing on the mat by 7:30am. The next few hours were spent poring over the facts and figures of upcoming races. His mood would be elevated and his gait noticeably improved. Once the races were in full flow, the dopamine (I didn’t recognise this at the time) would be flowing off the charts! And then suddenly, one day, he stopped.
My dad loved all sports but nothing appeared to give him the same amount of pleasure as his Saturday morning ‘hit.’
Many years ago I cared for a lovely gentleman who had been a composer and music professor. He was in his 90s and had no discernible short-term memory. He walked with a stick and was characteristically slow and unsteady. Then he would sit at his grand piano and everything about him changed. His posture improved, he would give a gentle smile, and I would sit eagerly in an armchair, at his side but out of his line of vision.
Could he transport himself back into his pre-Parkinson’s days? Could his hands obey the one part of the brain that was ‘undamaged’ — the part that holds music? He could. It was wonderful.
My second example comes from a more unlikely source — my doctor in France. As he began to jot down some notes (pen onto paper), it was impossible not to notice that he ‘had the shakes.’ Then he approached to treat my cervical spine, and the moment his hands touched my shoulders, they became totally still. He returned to his desk and the shakes were back. He gave me a wry smile as he waved (literally) the piece of paper at me.
I am trying my best to make sure I get a dopamine fix at least once a day.
Prevention is always going to be better than cure and unless your dopamine fix is at the bottom of a whiskey bottle or making bookies rich, I guess it can’t hurt.
If you are a carer, a friend or family member of someone needing care, it’s worth trying to find out what makes someone happy. In other words, never assume, even with the most debilitating cases, that they won’t be able to do something.
Happy pleasure seeking!