February 14, 2011. Walk like a Man

As the “college widow,” played by Thelma Todd, said in “Horsefeathers” to Groucho’s Professor Wagstaff in a canoe, “Ah, spring in the air!”

“Oh sure,” quips Wagstaff, “I should spring in the air and fall in the lake?” (By the way, what is a college widow?)

Well today there is Spring int the air, so rather than take the Subway to the Post Office, for the first time in months, I walked both ways. A walk that is far less than 2 miles, and I'm exhausted. It's difficult to say if this fatique is caused by the Parkinson's or because I've let myself go.

My weight has fluctuated from a low of 179 at age 19, to a high of 285 at age 45. Today, I'm about 245. I'm beside myself, and there's not enough room for the two of me.

So basically, I've been slowly killing myself for 35 years. If I continue at this pace, if Parkinson's doesn't get me, heart disease or diabetes will. I've never met a cookie that I don't like.

I have been the typical American male. I love Hot Dogs, hamburgers, ice cream. As of yesterday all this ends. I had my fruit cup for lunch and if I don't eat the computer screen I should be OK until dinner. The ironic thing is, I couldn't spring in the air, if i actually wanted to do so.

January 21, 2011. The Marx Doctors

The diagnosis was a long journey. After realizing that there was something amiss I saw five different doctors.

The first Doctor was my GP, Dr. Chico.

Dr. Chico: So Whatsa mattta?

M: It's my handwriting Doc. It's getting small.

Dr. Chico: Write a me something.

So I proceed to write the entire "Why a Duck" routine.

Dr. Chico: I can't a read that.

M: See I told you that it's too small.

Dr. Chico; No I just can't a read. I'm a gonna send you to my Brother Dr. Gummo. But first you pay a the bill. Let's a see. Yesterday we no see you, that's three hundred dollars. Today we examine you...

M: That's One Hundred that you owe me.

Dr. Chico: I bet I'm a gonna lose on the deal.

Dr. Gummo, was a renowned hand surgeon, who confirmed that I have two hands. He send me to Dr. Zeppo.

Dr. Zeppo, an orthopedist, didn't like the way his Brothers were treating him in the practice, so after my short visit he quit. But before he quit he sent me to Dr. Harpo.

M: Dr. I'm having trouble with my hand. If you would stop chasing the nurse and take a look, I'd appreciate it.

Dr. Harpo: Honk

Dr. Harpo proceeds to kick me in the behind, pick my pocket, and play the harp for ten minutes, before sending me to Dr. Groucho a Parkinson's specialist.

After using his cigar for light, and asking me how I did in the Kentucky Derby. Dr. Groucho was ready to address the issue.

Dr. Groucho: You have PD. Now isn't is a PD that you didn't come to see me before.

He then gave me a cube of sugar, some horse pills and sent me galloping away.

Now you may believe that this story is fictional and my object to the innuendo.

But that's just like I've always said, "Love flies out of your door, when money comes innuendo."

December 23, 2010. This is My Life

There are currently about 1,000,000 people in the United States who have been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. However it is estimated that about three times that amount or about 1 in 90 people have the Disease, but have not been diagnosed yet. http://www.parkinsons-disease.org/best-parkinsons-disease-statistics/

Early symptoms go relatively unnoticed. For instance, my first symptom was my handwriting. The letter were cramped and difficult to read. Since my handwriting has always been poor, I ignored this for some time. This coupled with a difficulty grasping fine objects, for example a pen or a fork, led me to believe that I was suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome. This made sense to my General Practitioner, because I was constantly typing. That was ruled out quickly.

When I finally was diagnosed, I asked the prognosis. The Doctor said, "You don't die from Parkinson's."

I'm a trained Lawyer, so I read everything, so I found out that it is true, that people don't die from PD per se. People do however die from the results of Parkinson's, falls, aspiration pneumonia, infections. Furthermore, about 1 in 3 develop Parkinsonian Dementia. That thought scares me the most.

So to revisit yesterday's post, bravery is not the issue. This is my life. It may have 10 more years, it may have 40 more years. It's foolish to be morose. I'm not being brave, I'm accepting a fact and doing the best that I can to live with it.

So I'll wake up in the morning and go to work. I'll watch the old movies on television. I'll watch the Yankees. I'll quote Groucho forever. I'll read. And someday, many years from now, someone will ask if I'm comfortable. I'll answer, "I make a living." Those will be my last words. Leave them laughing.

December 9, 2010. Mean Mr. Mustard

Something has loosened the filter in my mind that made me hesitant to speak my mind.

There was a time that I had a long fuse, but when it blew, watch out. But now whether it's age, almost 30 years of law, or the realization of mortality that a major neurological disease gives you, I no longer loose my cool. I'll say what's on my mind, with less hesitancy and far more sarcasm.

The sarcasm was always there. One doesn't watch every Marx Brothers' Movie multiple times without a little Groucho rubbing off. But I was hesitant about speaking my mind. Something happened.

There's something about coming to the realization that someday all of this will end, that gives one license to speak up.

I've become a lovable curmudgeon. So far, I've gotten away with it, but how long can that last?

I think that it's time to move on to the next role, "avuncular sage." Stay tuned. I'll be back tomorrow, same bat time, same bat station.

December 4, 2010. Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor.

I've never attended a Parkinson's support group meeting. I suddenly realized that except when I go to the Gym or to the Doctor's office I have no contact with other people who have PD.

The upside is that I can continue to live in my cocoon, and not acknowledge the worst aspects of the disease. the downside is that as empathetic as friends and family are, they don't have first hand experience.

The Queens County Parkinson's support group meets in Forest Hills on Monday. I may attend.

I was never one to discuss personal issues. Obviously I've changed.

My wife, who is a Geriatric Physician, knowing what I might see, is concerned that it could depress me. My thoughts are that if it does progress, and it might not, it's a fact of life. Getting depressed over it helps nobody. It will hinder enjoyment of whatever good years are left.

I intend to enjoy myself. So, " Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor. " (Groucho)