Pilgrimage for Parkinsons.

Hi everyone,

This September, I’ll be walking 616km from Lisbon to Santiago de Compostela to raise money for Parkinson’s UK and Mind, two charities that mean a great deal to me and my family.

My mum, Vanessa Soper, was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2006 at the age of 42. At first, it started with a small shake in her hand, but as the years have gone by, it’s developed into something that now dictates almost every part of her life. She depends on a combination of medication, including a full-day injection pump worn on her waist and a strict schedule of tablets every few hours. Without this medication, her movement becomes extremely limited, sometimes to the point where she can’t speak, move, or even call out for help.

I was just a child when she was diagnosed, but I was 16 when her condition worsened to the point where I had to step up and start looking after her properly. Both of my sisters were away at university, and during term time it was mostly just me and my dad managing everything at home.

At the time, I was commuting over an hour to college in Winchester while my dad worked long days in London. I’d often wake up around 6am to help get my mum ready for the day before heading to catch a 7am bus. If she had a bad night, I wouldn’t sleep much. During lessons, I’d get phone calls from her, sometimes she was stuck and couldn’t move, other times she was panicking which would cause her medication to stop working. On more than one occasion, I had to leave college early or take a taxi home because there was no one else available to help.

Eventually, I moved to a different college in Alton and passed my driving test within two months, which allowed me to get home quicker in emergencies. Around the same time, I got a job stacking shelves at Sainsbury’s from 5am to 9am, before college. That first year was exhausting. I’d come home, cook dinner, nap, then stay up doing coursework in the room above the kitchen, keeping my music off so I could listen out in case Mum needed help.

There were periods when Mum had to be hospitalised for medication adjustments, and I’d only see her once or twice a week. The hardest part wasn’t the schedule, it was watching the strongest, kindest person I know lose more and more of her independence. She still manages to smile, even when she’s in pain or having a difficult day. That strength is what inspires me.

Over the years, I’ve watched paramedics, strangers, even professionals, overlook how complex her condition is. I’ve had to advocate for her care, explain how her medication works, and stand my ground as a teenager in situations no teenager should have to be in. It’s left an impact that’s hard to put into words, and I’ve often kept it all to myself.

That’s also why Mind is a cause I care deeply about. Being a young carer in silence, trying to balance work, education, and emotional pressure takes a toll. I struggled with anxiety, self-doubt, and the feeling of being different from everyone around me. I know I’m not alone in that, but it often felt like I was.

This walk is more than just a personal challenge. It’s a way for me to:

• Raise awareness for what Parkinson’s really looks like behind closed doors

• Support mental health and break the stigma around asking for help

• Honour my mum, who has shown more resilience than anyone I know

I also hope to organise a community fundraiser this summer, potentially featuring an exhibition of my mum’s paintings and a space for others to share their own stories, with all proceeds going to Parkinson’s UK and Mind.

Thank you so much for reading. If you’ve ever been a carer, faced mental health challenges, or loved someone with a degenerative condition, I hope this resonates with you.

Any support whether through donations or just sharing this page means more than I can say.

Henry Soper