What, me worry??

WELL, in a stunning trade up of events, it seems that I'm now going to be the one seeing the neuro. I've had some unexplained fainting events in the last year or so, and after doing some rule-out (did the blood sugar monitoring thing, saw the cardiologist for a stress test, did a thyroid test) they've decided to send me to a neuro for a possible seizure workup. Niiiiiiiiiiiiice. While the fainting episodes are disturbing, possibly more disturbing is the concept of something being wrong with my brain. Maybe even something requiring me to take meds for the rest of my life. Or even disrupting the things I need to do.

It also occurs to me that this is an incredibly hypocritical way to feel, given the fact that I tell B all the time that his PD won't affect us as a couple. I guess what I really meant to say is that it was okay if he was sick, because one of us was healthy, and that meant we could compensate.

What happens if I'm sick too?

In the context of my own health, there is always this undercurrent of thought. "I need to make sure this neck problem doesn't get worse... someday I may have to lift him." "I have to make sure my memory stays sharp... so someone can remind him to take his meds on time." "I can't get sick... B has PD." Upon further thought, maybe this is less an altruistic thought than a selfish one. Am I really saying "I have to be perfect for both of us"?

The odd part of all of it is that for some reason, my being weak really makes B rise to the occasion. Being able to worry about me takes the focus off his own problems... it makes him feel strong. What I wish I could tell him is that he was strong all along. That's how he's made it so far with so many obstacles. I'm not the kind of person who likes to be fussed over, but it seems to please him. And I'm grateful that he's there.

Because truth be told, although I know that there's probably some stupid reason for all of this, it frightens me.
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And for your funny of the day:

I've gained a few more pounds in the last several months than I'd like, so the daughter and her friend and I have been walking in the evenings with the dogs. It's somewhat disconcerting that the dachschund with her little three-inch legs fares better on a three mile hike than I do! lol

But I've also been adding yoga to the workout, thanks to a little freebie dvd from McDonalds. A couple of nights ago, I was doing the 'moderate' exercises for balance, and found that either I'm the most uncoordinated person on the face of the planet, or that these standing-on-one-leg maneuvers are more difficult than they look. Last night we were all standing around in the garage chatting, and I made a funny comment about how loud it must have been from the other room during my yoga workout, what with me falling over every couple of minutes. He laughed, so I challenged him to do the poses. And in the twinkling of a starry blue eye, he'd pulled one foot up onto the other thigh, lifted his arms to the ceiling, and stood there perfectly poised in the crane position, grinning at me.

"So, what's your problem again?" he asked.

Sheesh. Go figure. The parkie's got better balance than I do. ;-)

For now I'm simply claiming that us *ahem* shapely girls have built-in, top-heavy overbalancing issues that prevent us from standing on one leg like a great blue heron. I'll leave the advanced poses to the little flat boy-girls and my smarty-pants Requip-poppin, Baryshnikov-emulating, overly talented, cheesily-grinning DH. God bless 'im.