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There are purchases you make because you need them.
There are purchases you make because you want them.
The clever bit comes afterwards, when you explain to yourself why you really needed them all along.
This week I managed both.
I treated myself to a new watch. There was no deep medical reason. No careful cost-benefit analysis. No spreadsheet. I simply fancied a new sports watch.
My old one (actually very new) I gave to my mother-in-law, who is happy as larry.
The new one, however, has one feature that my consultant brain immediately latched onto.
A very powerful flashlight.
Naturally I justified the purchase by telling myself it might come in useful one day.
At exactly 4.00 this morning, that day arrived.
I dropped my morning tablets on the floor.
Normally that wouldn’t be much of a story.
Except I was wearing sunglasses.
Inside.
In the dark.
Because turning on the lights would have been like staring directly into the sun.
The tablets had disappeared underneath my wheelchair, and the tiny flashlight on my new watch was the only way I was going to find them.
For once, my impulse purchase had earned its keep.
That, however, was only the first unusual purchase of the morning.
The second came courtesy of one of the wonderful PSP support groups that have become such an important part of my life.
Someone mentioned that rose-tinted glasses had made a real difference to their photophobia.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Apparently, specially tinted rose-coloured lenses, often known as FL-41 lenses, have been shown to reduce light sensitivity for many people with photophobia. Most of the research has been carried out in people with migraine, but there is also evidence that they can help some people with conditions involving blepharospasm and chronic light sensitivity. They certainly don’t work for everyone, but enough people report improvement that they seemed well worth investigating.
So, at four o’clock this morning, I found myself ordering a pair.
Five years ago, if someone had told me I’d be excited about buying a watch with a flashlight and a pair of rose-tinted glasses, I might have questioned their sanity.
Today it feels perfectly normal.
PSP has an extraordinary ability to redefine what counts as exciting retail therapy.
Whether the glasses work or not, I’ll let you know.
If they do, I’ll happily admit that “looking at the world through rose-tinted spectacles” may turn out to be one of the best pieces of advice I’ve ever received.
If they don’t, at least I’ll have contributed another data point to the great experiment that is living with PSP.
Either way, this little episode reminded me, once again, why these support groups matter so much.
The neurologists and researchers provide the science, and I am enormously grateful for that.
But the people living with PSP provide something equally valuable: practical wisdom earned through experience.
A suggestion from one anonymous member sent me off to read the research, and within hours I had found something that might genuinely improve my quality of life.
That happens far more often than most people would imagine.
So, thank you.
Not just to the person who suggested the glasses, but to everyone who quietly shares their experiences, their ideas and their encouragement.
Sometimes the smallest suggestion can make the biggest difference.
Wishing everyone a peaceful and healthy weekend.
