Just back from the pub (four buses). I’m an habitual pub-goer (forty years), but the last year or so has been a bit of a trial, and last Friday I’d just about given up on it. Somehow tonight I hit my perfect sequence/timing of Propranolol, Sinemet and alcohol. I was coherent, confident and witty: at least that’s what my brother says. I suppose I know nothing really – but do keep trying, and go with whatever works for you. Carpe diem.
I am envious, I used to really appreciate beer but it now tastes horrible. Its not the same having a pint of green ginger wine (the only drink I can taste properly).
Ive showed your post to the wife ,with instuctions that if i ever lose the taste for beer to kick me off Ryde pier,lol, life hasnt many pleasures when youve got PD but beer is one of them ,youve sent me into a cold sweat turnip ,
... and wine.
The ultimate blow was having a pint of Adnams and sending it back cause it was off.
The publican disagreed so I left. When this happened at another four hostelries I began to suspect the worst.
Eventually, overcome with grief every time I passed a good pub, I was forced for my mental well being to emigrate to Australia, as far as possible from a descent pint.
For some reason guiness is ok, a small comfort in a tin.