In transit on the Parkinson’s train

Whenever I travel on a train I feel on departure that I’ve been lifted off my foundations and I become reattached only when I arrive at my destination. During the journey I am groundless, displaced, in transition from place to place, never in one place for more than a split second as the train speeds along the track. I am nowhere, faced with the apparent contradiction of sitting in one place and moving at the same time; at least when I’m walking under my own power there is equality between sensing the movement and actually moving my body; on the train I sense the movement but I don’t actually move.

When I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s it felt like I was lifted off my foundations and placed on the Parkinson’s train; I was handed a one-way, non-stop ticket to a destination I am only vaguely aware of. I don’t know how long the journey will last. I am in transition to a future likely dominated by disability yet I seem to be standing still; I am groundless and nowhere.

Fellow sufferers accompany me on the train; we are sat in our seats and we feel the movement of the train but are unable to move or stand up ourselves. Family and friends, as well as doctors and nurses, walk up and down the aisle pushing different refreshment trolleys and handing out dopamine sandwiches and supportive tea.

I am living in transition, moving while standing still and there is no emergency stop button on the train I am on.