This day in 1970 was when my Mum brought life to me
On this day last year, I went home to celebrate
Once dinner plates had left the table, only then did I feel able
To say “Mum, Dad I have sad news to relate”
“I really don’t know where to start, I say this with a heavy heart
My limp has worsened, and the right shoulder – no improvement
I think right now it’s only logical, to suspect something neurological
Is what’s behind this stiffening of movement”
My Dad sad “Look you are my son, and it’s a brave thing that you’ve done..
But let’s not pretend this is where you’re encyclopaedic.
Trust a doctor who is older, the constant pain in your right shoulder
Is a problem that is clearly orthopaedic”
But his attempt to bring relief, lacked his usual self belief
Was clear to see his heart was now disintegrating.
He knew full well what he had seen, a son who’s lacking dopamine
And soon we got the news I’d been anticipating.
It’s been the strangest of my years, juggling illness and careers
But it hasn’t been my instinct to start moping
It is both the fit and sickly, who hide the fact they’re paddling quickly
Mutual support is how we find a way of coping.
When I think of how I feel, it’s a slightly strange reveal
That a year on, the fight has barely just begun
If I’m being quite pragmatic, one day my movements will be static
Till that occurs there’s no excuse to not have fun.
It’s fifty years since I was born, and one thing I share with Shane Warne
Is that a century will prove sadly out of reach
I’ve friends and family on Zoom, and Oliver to ease the gloom.
Embrace life. Now I have nothing more to preach.