Dancing in the Rain: Lessons Learned on my Personal Journey with PD (more at www.PDPlan4Life.com) Copyright 2013-18 Sheryl Jedlinski
Lately, it seems my computer mouse is out to get me, much like the blood thirsty plant, Audrey II, in the classic story, Little Shop of Horrors. My mouse prefers a passive aggressive approach, patiently waiting for me to succumb to “sleep attacks” brought on by the medicine I take to quell my tremor so I can type. Catch 22.
Overcome by sudden irresistible sleepiness, similar to narcolepsy, my grip relaxes, allowing my mouse to squirm free, careen off the edge of my keyboard tray, and dive bomb into my wooden chair mat. The shell splits open on impact, shooting two batteries into the nether regions under my desk, and coming to rest atop a soft pile of dust bunnies.
I long for the days of corded mice, as I gingerly get down on the floor and struggle to crawl far enough under my desk to retrieve the batteries and mouse parts. All the while, I am hoping that I will be able to crawl back out from under the desk and stand myself up again.
Refusing to let the clever mouse get the best of us, my husband bought me a pull out keyboard tray with an inch-deep lip around it. Now my mouse would have to qualify as an Olympic high jumper in order to escape.