Let’s be honest: using a computer with Parkinson’s is like trying to thread a needle on a rollercoaster. With mittens on.

I sit down to write a simple message and somehow end up sending a half-written sentence to my entire contact list. Because my finger twitched. Because the mouse took off like it was on a racetrack. Because the little clicky thing (technical term) decided that “hovering” now counts as “clicking.”

Trackpads are the enemy. Cursors drift like lazy ghosts. Clicking is an act of faith. Typing feels like trying to play piano with spaghetti.

And when people say “Have you tried turning it off and on again?”—I want to say, friend, if I could just click the damn button, we wouldn’t be here.

So, let’s break this into some categories…

Zoom: Nothing like watching yourself frozen on camera with your mouth half open because your hand shook while clicking “Join,” and you turned on video and screen share at once. I have started meetings with my monthly budget accidentally projected. I have pressed “Leave” when I meant “Mute,” and then tried to rejoin only to find out I’ve somehow scheduled a new meeting entirely.

Email: Ha! That draft I was crafting with care? Gone. Sent. With no subject line, half a sentence, and three random emoji. One time I emailed “Love you ❤️” to my Insurance agent. (He was kind about it.)

Facebook: Let me just say: the number of times I’ve hit “Post” before I’m ready is now classified. People have seen status updates that read “Thinking about h—” followed by nothing. That’s because I was thinking. Then my finger jumped the gun and now I’m apparently cryptic and dramatic.

And texts: Oh, those are a treat. One minute, I’m trying to text my friend “I’m on my way!” and the next, I’m sending “I’m on my whale.” Autocorrect seems to think it knows better than I do, but what’s even worse? My hands will just kind of go rogue, and I’ll send a message with half the words missing. “Hey, I’ll… meet… at… the…” and before I can stop it, I’ve hit “send.” Now my friend’s wondering if I’ve got some sort of cryptic message to decode.

And everyone seems to have a problem with voice-to-text. It sounds great in theory—just speak, and the magic happens. Except the magic usually involves me saying, “I’ll be there in ten minutes” and ending up with “I’ll be there in a tennis match.” Or worse, it’ll hear “take care” as “cake bear,” and now I’m wondering if my phone’s just trying to sabotage my friendships.

But here’s the kicker: I still show up. I still write. Still Zoom. Still email and post and message and meme. Not always gracefully. Not always in one try. But I do it.

Because Parkinson’s might have opinions about my fingers, but it doesn’t get the last word. Even if that last word is “hjkdhsjksd” and accidentally goes out as a text.

Consider this—while tech can sometimes be a hot mess, there are adaptive devices that can make life a little smoother. Whether it’s a specialized keyboard with larger keys or a mouse that responds to the gentlest touch, there’s a whole world of tech designed to work with you, not against you.

Some ideas for those looking for a little extra help:

• Voice-controlled assistants: Think Alexa or Google Home, which can help you manage tasks without needing to type. Perfect for when your fingers decide they need a break. Just be cautious of those previously mentioned problems with hearing you correctly. My tip: OVER pronunciate!
• Adaptive mice, trackballs and software: Some mice are designed to be more ergonomic, with larger buttons or touch-sensitive surfaces. There are even trackballs you can control with just the thumb—goodbye, wild cursor! There’s also software to change your mouse settings that work well. I’m currently tying SteadyMouse.
• On-screen keyboards with predictive text: When typing is too hard, some devices let you type using your voice or by selecting words from a list.
• Smart pens: These can help with writing, recognizing words as you write them, and turning them into text.

If you’re looking for more info, there are some great resources out there. Here are a couple:

• National Parkinsons Foundation – Assistive Technology
• The Parkinson’s Disease Foundation – Living with Parkinson’s

Of course, no device will magically make everything easier (sadly, I’m still waiting for that perfect “undo” button). But with the right tools, even the most frustrating tech can feel a bit more manageable. Most frustrating tech can feel a bit more manageable.