Parachute for Parkinson's: 9^th April 2011

 

 

Words have always come easily to me, I'm loud, I'm gobby, I'm rude, I'm always joking, laughing, shouting, talking over people and trying to get the last comment in. As many of you know, when I'm not throwing words out of my mouth, I'm writing them down. So believe me when I say, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to write in my life, because sometimes, when you need the right words the most, you just can't find them.

 

Thirteen and a half years ago, my wonderful mother, June Hall, was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. To all those blank faces, and at the risk of being a technical bore, Parkinson's is a 'degenerative disorder of the central nervous system that often impairs the sufferer's speech, motor skills (not the car, the body stuff), and other functions.' There is no cure for the disease, which is both chronic and progressive, in a nutshell this means that symptoms are shit to begin with and get worse and worse and finally, worse again. Anyway, you know what they say, google's just a click away so I'll let you do your own investigating.

 

People always ask the question, 'how did you cope?' So here goes with the painful honest stuff. For twelve of the last thirteen and a half years, I did what many kids might do, faced with the reality that the person they love more than life itself, is going to physically crumble in front of their eyes, I blocked it out completely and went into total denial. That's why, some of you reading this, might have spent the last twelve years of your life being one of my best friends, and yet never once heard me talk about this. I remember when I was little, I used to take mum's hand in both of mine and grip it really tightly, because just for a few seconds, it would stop it shaking and she wouldn't be ill any more.

 

My darling mother, being a counsellor, has got the talking/communication thing down to a fine art and countless times I remember she used to try and get me to open up, to ask questions. I would look away, change the subject, or do what I do best when I'm scared, get angry. Blocking things out is a pretty terrible way to deal with life, but sometimes when you know that no matter how many hugs or kisses you give someone, however many pills they take, however much you talk about illness and a future where symptoms can only get more aggressive, it's far easier to pretend its not happening.

 

But now it's time to stop pretending. If my mother can be brave enough to look fear in the eye and face this horrible, vile illness every day of her life whilst being my pillar of strength, then I'm going to bloody well stand by her side. However bad it gets, however much she shakes, or needs driving around because she can't get the control she needs in her hands and legs (definitely still think that one's just a ploy so she doesn't have to park though...lazy slob), however bleak the future might possibly get, I'm going to be her pillar of strength too, and as we all know, pillars are always reliable things to lean on when you can't quite stand up yourself.

 

Everyone copes with things in different ways, my mother publishes her poetry books (cheeky yet subtle sales pitch for anyone wanting one, Amazon is just one click further than google, and naturally 50 pence from each copy goes to Parkinson's UK) and I, being Katherine Hall, ever the flamboyant drama queen, I'm going to fall through the sky.

 

Yes, you read that right. On the 9^th of April 2011. I, Katherine Elizabeth Hall will be throwing myself out of a plane and falling at a somewhat rapid rate (let's face it, I'm not light) towards the ground, with only a small, colourful piece of material to prevent my untimely and in the eventuality, fairly messy death. At this stage, I would like to request that, should I in fact die during this so called 'fun' event, I would very much appreciate it if someone could play 'Parachute' by Cheryl Cole at my funeral...

 

So please, please, please, give whatever you can, no donation is too small or insignificant (saying that, any jokers, and you know who you are, trying to give me a one pence piece can jog right on to the bank). Currently there's no way to stop this disease destroying families, destroying lives but if by doing this one, silly, insignificant thing, I can help bring the hope of a cure even just one step closer , then that's enough for me, because for this cause, for my mum, I would go to the ends of the world. Help me make a difference, help me change lives, and in return, I'm sure the photos will provide enough amusement for centuries to come. Thank you all, Katherine X