Not that I would ever use my condition to get out of doing something, or to get preferential treatment (other than a better parking spot), but this new ground we’re covering here, so Nick and I are feeling our way through things.
I don’t want him to cater to my every whim, because I pride myself on being independent, But there are things I can’t do for myself anymore. It’s been quite the learning experience. To wit:
Here’s what I can reasonably expect
That Nick will drive me to and fro. He’s chauffeur designate anyways, and men like being in control, right?
That what is mine is mine and his is mine, too. This includes that sandwich he was about to scarf down, that chocolate malt shake, oh, and hand over that Diet Coke as well.
Unlimited massages.
He’ll handle the laundry. Except I will do the sorting, thankyouverymuch.
Dishes.
Dressing me. And undressing me.
Taking out the trash.
What I probably shouldn’t push but will try to anyways
Letting the dog out. (Will we ever get to that Jetsons future in which dogs walk themselves?)
Breakfast in bed. OK, coffee?
Purse/bag holding. (The universal sign of the henpecked husband.)
Paying the bills.
Brushing my hair.
Talking to people I don’t feel like talking to.
What I will never swallow my pride to ask for
Scratching me in weird places.
Brushing my teeth.
Spoonfeeding me.
Wiping my ass. I mean, I’ll get a bidet before I let that happen.
One, Wild & Precious 
Too adorable!
At one time or another, I have been partial to the following:
You have to be nice to me! I’m about to have a hysterectomy!
You have to be nice to me! I just had a hysterectomy!
You have to be nice to me! I shattered my humerus & I just got out of the Orthopedic ICU!
You have to be nice to me! I am starting chemo!
You have to be nice to me! I’m doing chemo!
You have to be nice to me! I just finished chemo!
Or a current fav
You have to be nice to me! I’m going through a divorce!
Love it! How could anyone not be nice to you? Well, besides your little brother, but that’s just the way the universe is designed. But I’m working on him! He only complains for 5 minutes now, as opposed to sulking for an hour.
Too adorable!
At one time or another, I have been partial to the following:
You have to be nice to me! I’m about to have a hysterectomy!
You have to be nice to me! I just had a hysterectomy!
You have to be nice to me! I shattered my humerus & I just got out of the Orthopedic ICU!
You have to be nice to me! I am starting chemo!
You have to be nice to me! I’m doing chemo!
You have to be nice to me! I just finished chemo!
Or a current fav
You have to be nice to me! I’m going through a divorce!
I’ve had to make Chris help me shave … and scratch me in weird places … and spoonfeed me. No shame in a little husbandly help!
Shaving! I forgot about that one. I’d be afraid of the accidental bloodletting. And Chris is the bestest – he sets the bar soooooooo high!
I hope you’ll be able to do some of these things yourself again soon. I couldn’t drive (or lift my breakfast cereal spoon to my mouth) a month ago. Now I’m back on it and even getting to the gym a couple of times a week (albeit, doing the nanna circuit but, hey, it’s a major step up). Best wishes to you for remission, if that’s a possibility for you?
I’m definitely with you on the backrubs! And don’t forget cooking/grilling. I think you can totally talk Nick into grilling you some turkey dogs and veggie kabobs!
A colleague of yours, Denise Dorton, sent me your blog site. I was diagnosed with MS 26 years ago. And, an earlier comment in one of your posts was right on—it was a whole different world then.
Keep up your writing, your humor, and your look to the future. They will serve you well!
I say go for holding your purse and then take a picture to prove it.
Luv ya!
Chris often finds himself doing things for me. He has infinite patience with my slowness and my quikiness. Having your husband to support you, cheer you on, push you when you need it is beyond words.
My mom (who also has Parkinson’s) and I are often asked how we stay so positive, so happy though everything. Having a family that supports you physically as well as emotionally makes any diagnoses easier. Of course, we also have a saying around our house, we could laugh about it or we could cry and since neither would fix anything we’d rather laugh.
Come hang out at White Water with me soon. We’ll form some kind of a girl’s-with-canes gang.