The majestic earth was spinning on its axis beside me; the
sun reflected off the polar ice caps and a storm swirled over the Atlantic
ocean. I was in orbit trying to finish work on my doctoral thesis satellite; I
was ready to push the satellite into the intellectual firmament when a warning
came on the radio. It said, "you might have Parkinson's disease". I
scrambled to get back to the life I had known but it was impossible. Then it came,
the debris from a Parkinson's diagnosis; it slammed into and destroyed the
shuttle that would have taken me back to my former life. I was sent spinning
off into space. I felt disorientated, confused and desperately lost; “this is
Jonny in the blind, do you copy…?”
The support I received from my family and friends and my
doctors give me a jet pack with enough fuel to get to the nearest space
station. Once I got there I readied the escape module but another wave of
debris hit as my symptoms worsened, damaging the module. There was no other
choice but to use the module, I had to reach the next treatment space station and I just made it. Here I am, waiting for the next wave of Parkinson's
debris to hit, longing for something to get me back to earth...
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