Progressive Supranuclear Palsy is a terminal, degenerative, brain condition. There is no treatment and no cure.
My mother received this diagnosis in 2007. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a hard to hear diagnosis- we didn’t understand. We didn’t know enough to be freaked by “Progressive”. We’d never encountered neurological illness, so we still expected that there’d be something to be done. That delusion wasn’t helped by the fact that the consultant gave us the name and no other information. No fact sheet, no phone number, no website, no specialist nurse. We went home, happy to have a name. Eventually, with the help of Dr Search Engine, reality began to dawn. We found limited information and support. Before long, we learned that we were the experts- how could that be possible?Medusa, Carravagio
PSP is like a series of snakes, active in the brain. Sleeked. Slowly, deliberately, without compassion, squeezing themselves round proteins and neurotransmitters, tangling the communication systems. Squashing the the ability of the brain to tell the body what to do. A slow onset paralysis.
Medusa, a beautiful woman transformed into a mask. Powerful and raging, affecting anyone who looked at her.
The eagle eyed reader may have noticed that my input to the Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge has been, at best, sporadic. It seems I’m not yet beyond setting unrealistic targets. This post was in response to #HAWMC prompt 8 “If the health condition of a loved one was an animal, what would it be?”