My life has shown me that the biggest epiphanies come in the most unlikely of places. I just never expected a hospital treatment room to be one of them. And I definitely didn't expect the words of a Nuclear Medicine doctor to affect me so much that they touched me more deeply inside than anything I could have possibly imagined.
It is essential that older people's nutritional needs are appropriately assessed and taken into account in any care plan. Only when health staff and carers ensure that older people have access at all times to the right food and drink alongside the appropriate help and support they require to go with it, will we see a much needed drop in these startling figures.
I'm really angry at myself for putting myself down that day, and letting myself feel so negatively towards my body. But I'm so grateful I was able to step out of that so quickly. I felt really positive for the rest of the day, and waited for my boyfriend to finish work - in my new underwear (makeup done and everything)!
A bit more pain and hanging around and being at the mercy of machines is doable. It's a bit like going on a long tour with a really shit band. The chemo I've done for the last two days is certainly not as bad as my worst hangover was back in the day, but it does feel like the most oppressive jetlag, the plane having flown in from Mars.
Anorexia is tiresome, people keep using the word choice. "You can choose to eat or not Claire" but it isn't a choice not like the choice between having a bath or a shower. My choices are very powerful ones with very powerful consequences, I feel the word 'choice' in this situation is too mild a word.
I've heard time and again about fellow Parkinson's sufferers experiencing devastating consequences from being hospitalised. From personal experience, I understand the severity and possible ramifications all too well after being hospitalised some months ago. Hospitalisation is something I try to avoid at all costs, but occasionally there is no choice.