Member-only story
My Husband Died 9 Years Ago
But He’s Never Left Me Alone.
My husband, Bobby, died almost nine years ago of complications from Parkinson’s Disease. He was eleven years older than me, and he died at the age of sixty. There’s no cure for Parkinson’s Disease, and they don’t really know what causes the reduction in the body’s production of dopamine that leads to the disease. They also don’t know how it will affect any given individual. Some people can live decades with few obvious symptoms, while others live only a few years. Bobby fell into the second category.
Unless you’ve been the main caregiver for a person with a terminal, degenerative disease, you have no inkling of how terribly difficult it can be. Not only is it physically demanding, but it takes an emotional toll, as well. It’s so hard to watch someone you love lose more and more of himself, not to mention the necessity of taking over pretty much everything inside and outside the home without any help.
I was working three jobs at one time to cover medical costs and make ends meet. Parkinson’s is tricky, you see. It’s all about finding the right combination — assuming one exists — of medications to lesson the symptoms and pain, along with the right dosage of each medication. God only knows how many different combinations and dosages we tried, but none of them helped much.
