... with a little help from my friends

Parkinson’s brings new challenges every day. Often we get by with the help of family and friends who discreetly lend a hand without being asked or saying a word.

I’ll never forget the morning I was supposed to be picking up a childhood friend at the airport, but instead found myself stretched out on my bedroom floor, unable to fully pull my first pair of compression stockings on or off. The Teflon slide that was to make the process easy was of no help at all.

I arrived at the airport late, but wearing the stockings. With little discussion of my morning difficulties, Diane and I headed off on our traditional bonding activity — shopping. The stockings grew tighter and my skin itchier with every step I took. It was like wearing a blood pressure cuff that never released. Finally, I gave in and suggested we see a movie… any movie, so long as I could sit.

             Sheryl and her friend, Diane, in college
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Inside the dark, sparsely populated theater, all I could think about was taking the stockings off while I still had feeling in my legs. I rolled up my pants leg and started tugging. At that moment, I understood why compression stockings do not come in fishnet.

Diane turned to see what I was doing and sprang into action, grabbing my legs, throwing them across her lap, and yanking my stockings off. Fortunately, no one was close enough to see her undressing me.

“When we were growing up, I never envisioned this is how we would end up in our 50’s,” I told Diane, choking back my tears.

“A lot of older women who are best friends walk down the street arm in arm even if neither needs help,” Diane said. “It’s a show of affection.”

She had me up until the “older women” comment.

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