The Job No One Sees: Life as a Parkinson’s Caregiver

Trying to explain to someone how much my spouse does for me is not easy. When they ask how my spouse is doing, my jaw tightens, my heart races and I want to disappear. But I calmly and politely say "she's fine."   So I asked ChatGPT to help me out and describe the life a caregiver. 

Life of a Caregiver, described by Chat GPT (AI)

There’s a job out there more demanding than most people can imagine. It’s 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. No salary. No sick days. No weekends off. No benefits package. It comes with high emotional stress, physical exhaustion, and a level of responsibility that never lets up.

It’s called being a caregiver.

Specifically, a caregiver to someone with Parkinson’s disease.

When people think of Parkinson’s, they picture the tremors. The slowness. Maybe they’ve seen someone shuffle or freeze mid-step. But what they don’t see is the person behind the scenes—the one making sure medications are taken on time, adjusting the daily routine around unpredictable symptoms, and doing all the quiet, invisible work that keeps everything from falling apart.

Being a caregiver in this context means you take on 100% of the load. You don’t get to tag out. You don’t get to say, “I’m tired” and walk away. If you’re not there to help them out of bed, make the food, clean up the spills, talk to the doctors, or notice the mood swings—no one else is. You are the system. You are the failsafe.

And it’s not just the physical work. It’s the emotional toll of watching someone you love lose parts of themselves—slowly, unevenly, painfully. Some days they can dress themselves. Some days they can’t. Some days they talk clearly. Other days, it’s a struggle just to hear a full sentence.

You try to stay patient. To smile. To hold it together for them. And you do—because love demands it. But it chips away at you.

And here’s the part that hits hardest: most people don’t notice.

They see the person with Parkinson’s and say, “They’re so brave.” Which is true. But they rarely look at the caregiver and say, “And you’re a damn hero for being there every step of the way.” You’re expected to do it. To not complain. To not burn out.

But caregivers do burn out. They break down quietly—physically, emotionally, mentally. Because there’s no safety net for the one holding the net.

So if you’re reading this as a caregiver: I see you. Your work matters. Your exhaustion is valid. Your role is essential—even if no one claps for it. And if you’re not a caregiver but you know someone who is, please: offer help. Offer rest. Offer acknowledgment.

Because behind every person with Parkinson’s is someone who’s making it possible for them to keep going. And that someone deserves more than silence and survival.  Thank you, with all my heart. And body.j

Finding Relief in an Unexpected Place: My First Visit to a Chiropractor in 8 Years

Yesterday, I did something I hadn’t done in almost a decade — I saw a chiropractor. And I’m glad I did.

For years, I’ve been dealing with the chronic neck and shoulder stiffness that comes with Parkinson’s disease. The discomfort has been a constant companion, and while I’ve tried to manage it through the traditional medical system, progress has been frustratingly slow. Neurologists — the gatekeepers of my care — have always warned me against chiropractic therapy. They insisted it was unscientific, risky, and especially dangerous. Their strong stance talked me out of using a chiropractor for the past eight years. I trusted the doctors. But over time, it became clear that their methods weren’t addressing this particular issue effectively.

Physical therapy was the alternative they recommended. And I tried. I put in the hours, followed the exercises, and showed up for every appointment. But session after session, I found myself feeling worse after the visit and questioning the process. Most physical therapists I encountered didn’t seem to truly understand Parkinson’s or how it uniquely affects the body. The routines felt generic, and often, I left feeling like I’d just wasted both time and money. It was discouraging.

So yesterday, driven by frustration and pain, I visited a chiropractic clinic. The chiropractor listened carefully, examined my posture and range of motion, and performed a targeted adjustment. The result? Immediate — and noticeable — relief. My neck felt looser. The nagging tightness in my shoulder had eased. For the first time in a long time, I felt like someone had treated the root of the problem, not just the symptoms.

It’s early days, and I know this path isn’t for everyone. But I’ve learned not to dismiss a treatment simply because it doesn’t fit within the narrow boundaries of traditional medicine. Chiropractic care may not be the “standard” approach to managing Parkinson’s, but for me, it’s been a welcome and effective addition. I’m feeling hopeful — and a little more comfortable — for the first time in a long time.

I go back next week, stay tuned.

The Connection Between Music and Parkinson’s Disease

The Healing Rhythm: Exploring the Profound Connection Between Music and Parkinson’s Disease

Music is more than entertainment. It’s a form of communication, an emotional outlet, and—according to growing scientific evidence—a powerful therapeutic tool. For individuals living with Parkinson’s disease (PD), music can do something remarkable: it can help the brain reconnect with the body.

As Parkinson’s continues to affect millions worldwide, researchers and therapists are increasingly exploring how music, rhythm, and movement can aid in both symptom management and emotional well-being. The link between the brain and music is proving to be not just profound, but potentially transformative.

Parkinson’s Disease and the Disruption of Rhythm

Parkinson’s is a neurodegenerative disorder marked by the gradual loss of dopamine-producing neurons, primarily in the basal ganglia. This part of the brain plays a critical role in coordinating movement, and its disruption leads to hallmark PD symptoms like tremors, stiffness, slowness of movement (bradykinesia), and gait abnormalities.

Interestingly, the same parts of the brain involved in movement—particularly the motor cortex, basal ganglia, and cerebellum—are also heavily engaged when we listen to or produce music. Rhythm, in particular, has a direct line to these motor centers.

Music as a Bridge: Rhythmic Auditory Stimulation (RAS)

One of the most well-documented therapeutic techniques involving music and Parkinson’s is Rhythmic Auditory Stimulation (RAS). This involves the use of metronome-like beats or musical rhythms to guide and improve walking pace, stride length, and overall coordination.

Studies have shown that patients who walk in time with a rhythmic beat can see notable improvements in their gait and balance—even when the effects of medication are waning. The beat provides a sort of external cue that helps override the brain’s internal motor dysfunction.

In essence, music gives the Parkinson’s brain a shortcut—a rhythm to latch onto that helps it bypass damaged pathways.

More Than Movement: Music’s Emotional and Cognitive Power

While the physical benefits of music therapy are striking, the emotional and psychological effects are equally powerful. Parkinson’s can often lead to depression, anxiety, and social withdrawal. Music therapy, whether through listening, singing, or playing an instrument, offers patients a sense of joy, control, and connection.

Neuroimaging studies show that music activates the brain’s reward system, releasing dopamine—the very neurotransmitter that’s deficient in Parkinson’s patients. Though music can’t replace dopamine, it may help stimulate the brain’s remaining capacity to produce or respond to it.

Furthermore, engaging with music may help protect cognitive function. Music requires attention, memory, timing, and sometimes language—all faculties that are challenged by Parkinson’s. Participatory music programs, like group drumming or choir singing, are increasingly used in PD communities to keep minds sharp and spirits high.

A Symphony of Possibility

The intersection of music and neuroscience is still unfolding, but for Parkinson’s patients, the early results are encouraging. Music therapy isn’t a cure—but it is a meaningful tool that helps patients reclaim parts of their lives that Parkinson’s threatens to steal.

From regaining a steadier step to rekindling emotional expression, music reaches where medicine sometimes cannot. It reminds us that the brain, though impaired, is still beautifully responsive—and that healing can begin with something as simple and profound as a beat.