I have struggled with myself over the past four weeks as to whether to write this column; but ultimately, decided I should because I set out on this quest of recovery to give readers a fair look at what the DBS (deep brain stimulation) therapy is doing for me.

Following the first surgery in August 2018, everything was fine and there seemed little for me to do.

Other than a few physical therapy sessions to deal with my legs — which are in part due to what I would term a birth defect (my knee caps are on the side of my legs rather than the front) — and a few speech therapy sessions, I was feeling great.

I felt like I could conquer the world.

I wrote three columns on my recovery following that first surgery, which was on my left brain to deal with the right side of my body.

I opted for the second surgery on my right brain in March 2019 in hopes of getting relief from tremors in my left hand, after I had seen the impact the first surgery had on my right side.

I thought if both my hands were steady, I could do things such as work on the computer better and maybe even do my nails.

With one hand still trembling at a rapid rate, I really couldn’t do either the nails on my right hand or left hand well. If I tried to do my left hand, even though my right hand was steady, my left hand was shaking so much that I couldn’t clip the nails. If I tried to do my right hand, my left hand was so out of control that I couldn’t hold the clippers steady.

It often reminds me of one of the days I was helping Mom try to paint her nails. Mom also had Parkinson’s disease. I told her it was like two moving targets trying to make connection.

I almost reverted to biting my nails (a habit I never truly broke), but I have found that dentures (which I got in 2017) were not really made for nail biting.

But I am determined to be one new woman from my teeth to my brain and down to my toenails when all is said and done.

Following this surgery, however, I am in need of extensive speech therapy and more physical therapy to help me walk better. My voice comes and goes. But on most days, it goes.

I have been doing some therapy on my own; I sit down and write, while playing some old favorites on You Tube and singing along.

I am thankful this part is just between me and my God, though, because the voice is cracking. I am getting a little louder as time goes on, and that is a plus.

For times when I really want to be heard, I followed my grandson’s suggestion and wrote on a strip of paper: “Hey, I’m yelling at you, now.”

That seems to work after the recipient of my message quits laughing.

I also have gone through some of the darkest depression I have lived through this past four months.

It is something I have always struggled with, but it seemed to be much deeper, and I found myself staying in more — seldom even going out to shop — and cutting conversations on the phone much shorter than normal because it is more difficult to speak.

Social media has been a help for the depression.

Getting on Facebook with cousins, aunts, uncles and friends from across the country has been an amazing boost for me.

And, once again, the “Golden Girls” of our Class of ’67 came to the rescue when Dinah (Oldham) came to pick me up for our monthly breakfast recently. It was the first time I had gotten together with the group since last August.

Everyone commented on my new look — I shaved my head after the surgery in March and it is beginning to grow back, but is still very short. They all said it was a great look for the summer. Honestly, though, I wash it in the mornings and just can’t do a thing with it.

But for those who have been following my recovery, this is the fifth column (the last one being within two months of my March surgery) since I began my journey with the treatment offered to many patients with Parkinson’s disease.