"Silence is golden, so stifle thyself" (Archie Bunker)

PD still does not cloak me. If we met on the street, you would not know I had the shaking palsy. The drugs control the tremor, but that doesn't mean PD has stopped its incessant destruction. No, now the signs of PD manifest themselves in a huge increase in saliva at the back of my throat. I keep having to make that "Hmmm" noise to clear it out when I talk; otherwise, it would sound as if I were talking under water. Plus, there is the hesitancy in my speech. I have to plan out what I am going to say and even then I stammer. It is becoming an annoying speech impediment. It is worse later in the day so to resolve it, I do what comes naturally to me - I watch TV. When you are a "watcher" you need not be a "talker".

The silence can be deafening!

Son, everybody's trimmin' fat....

Large numbers of people with parkinson's lose weight, as much as 40 pounds, or more, following diagnosis. Women with PD are more affected by weight loss than men with PD. In fact, PWP are 4 times more likely to lose weight than those without the condition.

Why is that? You might ask. Well here are some possible reasons:

1. maybe we eat less.
2. maybe if we suffer from depression, we lose the joy of eating.
3. maybe, if like me, we lose our sense of smell, then we have lost a large part of what makes eating enjoyable.
4. finally, maybe all the unwanted PD movement is enough to cause weight loss

But all of these theories have been found wanting

Persons with PD eat just as much as their peers whether or not they are depressed, lack a normal sense of smell or experience severe dyskinesias. Others have hypothesized a role for autonomic dysfunction or altered metabolism. So the mystery of weight loss in PD remains just that, a mystery. read article

Not every PWP will lose weight and I don't recommend the method for weight control. In fact, I have gained about 6 pounds since my return from Florida, having developed a need for all things sweet. At the moment, I am far from obese, but I am certainly not thin. I enjoy eating. What's a few extra pounds at my age? If you feel the need to look thin, just hang out with fat people.

The Reluctant Pessimist

A pessimist is a person who thinks things will be worse tomorrow just because they were so good today. When you are a PWP, that's just realism. I try to avoid reality. In fact it is a fine line between reality and illusion and I seem to be erasing it daily. I try my best not to think of the future unless the future looks good. Then that old pessimism rears its ugly head. I mean, I feel good today and if it were not for a lack of word recalling ability, I would feel normal. But that's today, it can only mean things will go downhill from here.

Something I learned yesterday is that there is a possibility that the dopamine producing cells do not die off as previously thought; rather, they turn off and research into a cure should look for ways to turn them back on. That makes sense to me. Maybe the sun will come up tomorrow after all.

I will try to keep that good thought.

Post hoc ergo propter hoc

I have been a good boy/man for most of my life (IMHO). Sure, my halo fell down around my neck once or twice (maybe more) but all in all, I am a decent person. So, why do I have the bad luck of having been "shat" upon by the gods who saw fit to declare a war between my brain and the rest of my body? That doesn't happen to the good guys.

On the other hand, I know bad guys who have not been stricken with any form of a terrible disease, or even a manageable problem like PD. So, what's up with that? Why is it only the good die young? And around me, they are dropping like flies. People my age are fading out, but not from parkinson's. Parkinson's is just around to annoy me and make my life harder.

PWP in England are disgusted with an article that appeared in The Times of London. Here is an excerpt from that article:

"It is the most devastating illness and there is no cure. Parkinson's disease crushes its victims by denying them control over movement and speech and a premature death is unavoidable"

I would have been quite upset if that had been the first thing I read upon diagnosis. Apparently the writer knows nothing about PD. The miracle drugs that have been developed and that are being developed, control the loss of movement and speech as well as the myriad other symptoms. Nobody ever died from parkinson's, they die with parkinson's.

Anyway, I got a little off track there. The question I ask myself is, Since I am one of the good guys, I shouldn't have PD, right?"

I answer myself with, "What makes you so special that any supernatural being would lend you a helping hand?"

Next, I have to ask "Why me? Why anybody?" So far I have not received an answer. It's all about the God paradox :

Is God willing to prevent parkinson's, but not able?
Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able, but not willing?
Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing?
Then whence cometh parkinson's?
Is he neither able nor willing?
Then why call him God?

Whatever chances I have of getting help from god(s) does not appear to be imminent, so I might just as well go and watch a movie.

Here endith the lesson

Of Cramps and Old Guy Fawkes

Lord, confound this tired mister,
blight his brow with blotch and blister,
cramp his legs & style and rhythm,
in his guts a galling give him.

With apologies to whomever wrote the original of his curse. It personifies my cursed condition. Last night the "beast" returned - ie - severe cramping down the sides of my legs, my right far worse than my left. My right foot started to turn inward and upword. I got out of bed and stood and watched some fireworks go off on the TV.

My mind began to drift. I was once again 10 years old in the village of Amesbury, Wiltshire, England. We were renting the local mansion house and were to provide fireworks for the village on Guy Fawkes Day. The anticipation was great as, through the windows of houses around a field, we watched my father gingerly carry a box of fireworks out onto the common. He took out a large roman candle which promised to be a spectacular explosion of colour. He carefully lit the fuse, but there was no blossoming into a yellow spider but rather the thing sputtered a few feet into the air before falling to the ground. Everyone sighed until the next explosion which was incredible. A wall of fire and light. "That was a good one!" my mother said to me as my father entered the room to tell us that a spark from the first roman candle had landed in the box of fireworks and set them all off at once!

We children were left with pinwheels and lady fingers to celebrate the holiday but our disappointment was ameliorated by the huge bonfire burning the effigy of Guy Fawkes. It was a memorable evening of my first and one and only Guy Fawkes celebration.

As usual, after 5 minutes of standing still, the cramp left me and I was able to get a decent nights sleep dreaming about that bonfire and Guy Fawkes going up in flame.

I awoke this morning feeling exhausted after a good sleep. This PD will never let me feel refreshed, no matter how long I sleep. So, to all those researchers out there, remember what Guy Fawkes once said, "A desperate disease requires a dangerous remedy."

Get on with it, will you?

Old Man Take a Look at Your Life

I need a shot of senility. I need to not be cognizant of my aging and the shots God is taking at me. My body is breaking down. First, supposedly, Fibromyalgia, translation: "I don't know what's wrong with you". All those years of pain, the white noise of my existence. Fortunately, I got so used to it, I could ignore it. Then "fibromyalgia" was replaced with PD, with its myriad symptoms coming and going and now..... well read on.

I went to my neuro today. We chatted and I asked him if PD could affect my eyesight.

His response was "No. At least I don't think so. If PD has an effect on eyesight, it would affect tracking" I like this man and his honest replies. Some doctors would have tried to bluff their way through, but this guy just said, "I don't know. Maybe."

Next he asked me if I had any new symptoms. I told him I had trouble with word retrieval when speaking.

"Oh, so do I," he said, and added, "How old are we? We are getting on. I am 62 and you are younger than me. How old are you anyway?"

"I will be 67 on my next birthday."

Wow. You look a lot younger. Younger than me anyway"

I think I'm in love!!!!

I left feeling pretty good about the PD which seems to be progressing slowly. I made a follow up appointment for a year hence.

As I think I said in an earlier entry this week, I am having a problem with my eyesight. I can no longer see the numbers in the clue section of the crossword. It happened overnight. So after seeing the neuro, I went to an optometrist. She did some very intense testing. I couldn't read much of anything on the eye chart - seriously - even the large letters would not stand still long enough for me to focus on them. She concluded all her tests and said, "I don't know what the problem is. Your eyesight is so weak, you barely make the standard for driving, even with your glasses on. I don't think it is serious because all that appears abnormal is the surface of the eye. It is very odd - has little bubbles or something on it. We will treat it as dry eye but I really don't know for sure."

Two medical specialists who admit their lack of knowledge. That must be a record. As I have said often enough, many doctors go to medical school, learn a few tricks, an then expect deification. It is a treat to be treated by humble medicos.

All this and I have put on 5 pounds since my vacation. As Orson Wells said, "I was told by my doctor to stop having intimate dinners for four...unless there are 3 other people present" or words to that effect. My body is not only deteriorating, but I seem destined to be chubby. What will the future bring? A touch of senility perhaps or am I already in its prime.

Two days later.... The optometrist's action plan is working. My eyes have improved dramatically and and the future's so bright, I have to wear shades.

Or in the immortal words of Yogi Berra, "The future ain't what it used to be."

When I repress my emotion....I can't. It is out of control!

James Joyce once remarked. "Men are governed by lines of intellect - women: by curves of emotion"

If that is case, someone HELP me. I am turning into a woman. PD plays with your emotions and moods and can even lead to depression. I started watching, dare I admit it, a teenage soap opera called One Tree Hill. I got hooked and watched the entire first season. If that weren't bad enough - here it comes- I got choked up at the happy ending. I was aghast at my reaction! It wasn't the first time it happened. I got choked up at the happy ending of a Jennifer Aniston movie too. But that was OK because hey, it was Jennifer Aniston. One Tree Hili, on the other hand is for teen females. Even its title is stupid! It must be a female's code for something sad or happy. The story lines are even stupider. But I sat through, Oh, I don't know, 24 hours or so, just to get choked up at the predictable conclusion.

......Oh the humanity!

To prove to myself I still had some self respect left, and to restore my machoness (assuming I ever had any), I decided to watch a thriller. I chose The Factory. It proved to be heart thumping, which increased my anxiety level, which increased my stress. When you are a PWP, you should avoid all stressors but, you know, I didn't get choked up when the detective (spoiler alert) saved his daughter from the pyschopath.

I think I am back; my machoness intact. I just have to avoid teenage soap operas and only watch thrillers. But wait,Pretty Little Liars looks interesting. No, stop it. Too late! I watched a couple of episodes. Now I wonder.....will Aria get together with Ezra? Will Hannah hook up with Lucas?

Will I ever get over this obsession? I doubt it. Obsessions are part of PD and especially my PD medication. If I have to obsess, why couldn't I obsess on chocolate or sex, like a normal PWP?

Why, lord, why?