counter

Monday 23 December 2013

But baby, it's cold outside.

Christmas is two days away and it is unseasonably cold here. Normal temperatures for this time of year hover around -10C. Today, with the windchill, it reached -44C. Just a touch chilly! This kind of cold does not usually arrive until the middle of January and into February. That's when we leave the frozen prairie for 3 weeks in Florida. Thank god for Florida, the land of heat, hedonism, spring break and, well....... go see for yourself.

But enough of that and on to PD.

A few days ago, a friend asked me if cold affected my PD and I absentmindedly answered "no". I also answered "no" when my son-in-law asked if I thought the heat of Miami Beach helped suppress my symptoms. I was wrong on both counts. I wear good winter mittens and yet my fingertips get so cold they tingle, as if I had a nerve problem and, maybe I do, but it only occurs when I get seriously cold. In Miami, I don't have that problem. There, I have no problems, except I miss my grandchildren.

They say happiness is good health and a bad memory. I wonder how I fit into that definition?

Only 8 more weeks until we head south. Gotta love Florida. The best way to describe Miami Beach is that it is different. I have only been to 3 foreign countries in my lifetime, the USA, Great Britain and South Miami Beach.

Wednesday 18 December 2013

Dream along with me. I'm on my way to the stars.

I had one of those vivid, virtual dreams last night. It was unusual in its intensity and involved lots of thrashing around. Of course I only remember it in flashes

  1. I am walking down the beach with another person when somebody yells "LOOK OUT". I automatically duck, in time to see a huge boulder fly over my head. I look around and see a muscular man "shot putting" boulders.
  2. As I approach, I notice there are two men; a skinny guy is picking up the boulders and under-handing them to the throwing man who is 5 feet away. I say, "you shouldn't be doing that on the beach. It is dangerous." The two men look at me and the skinny one picks up another boulder, tosses it to the muscleman, who then shotputs it far over my head. They are not going to stop, so my companion sits down to watch and I continue up the beach.
  3. I am outside a bank and I see a police car pull up and stop across the road. I go into the bank and find two other men, both strangers to me. They rob the bank and I try to tell them the police are just outside, but I can't get the words out. The robbery continues while I watch.
  4. We leave the bank and are confronted by a spewing of bullets from the police car, but I see no policemen. I yell "run". The two robbers are killed.
  5. I am in jail. I don't know how I got here. I am confused and scared. I try the cell door. It is locked. I call out but nobody answers. I can see the entire interior of the jail. The place is deserted!
  6. I wake up and spend the next few minutes trying to remember the dream

I bet a psychiatrist would have a field day with that. I am no psychiatrist, but even I can see a metaphor in there. I would seek out a psychiatrist but I don't really need one. I already know I am a bit odd. The dreams just proves it.

As Rodney Dangerfield joked, "I told my psychiatrist that everyone hates me. He said that was just ridiculous - I hadn't met everyone yet." or words to that effect.

Tuesday 17 December 2013

Arms and the Man

I was lying on my back on the couch watching TV. My left arm was bent so that the elbow rested on the back of the couch and my hand was on my cheek. Have you ever been so tired that nothing can keep you from falling asleep? You always let Hypnos take you, didn't you? Me too. But not this time. As I was about to drift off, at that point where consciousness is leaving, but you are still semi-awake, my left arm shot straight up and became rigid, and I mean RIGID, for the blink of an eye, pointing accusingly at the ceiling as if it was aware of something there beyond my ken. That woke me up! There was no pain involved, just good, old fashioned, "What the hell was that?" and my arm relaxed. You would think I'd be used to twitching muscles, but this one was sudden and particularly violent.

I have written about these contractions before, but this time was different. the worst thing about the incident was it occurred on my left side, which so far has been spared the battering of PD. Is it beginning to take all of me? Or is this just a one-time, super twitch? Who knows? Who cares? And the game goes on.

If you are looking for a really good site, go to Parkinson's UK. There is a wealth of information there, nicely organized and a lively forum. Much of what I know came from the authors of the site and the people on the forum.

“Here's Death! twitching my ear: "Live," says he, "for I'm coming" (Virgil)

Total page views to date, 19,595.

Friday 13 December 2013

We all have a cross to bear....

My cross is parkinson's and after 3 years, it still hasn't sent me to a dark place. In fact, it actually got me writing again and that is perhaps the only good thing about the condition unless, like me, you are happy to be constipated, after so many years of battling the aztec two-step. For the most part, drugs have made me normal. I take amantadine and the agonist, mirapex. So here is a little ramble about dopamine agonists.

  • the first thing you should know is that they do not produce dopamine as Levadopa does. Rather, the agonists mimic the effects of dopamine, essentially fooling the brain into thinking everything is A-OK.
  • There are many different DA's which are chemically different and which differ in duration and side effects.
  • Each DA appears to have at least one alias, for example, the DA I take is Mirapex, aka pramipexole, aka mirapexin and I think, aka sifrol.
  • There are some pretty freaky side effects to this drug, some of which are compulsive behaviours. People on mirapex have bankrupted their families due to drug-induced compulsive gambling.
  • Fortunately, the side effects are absent for me, but I understand that the compulusions can arise at any time and chances of them arising increase as the dosage increases.
  • I realize that out of necessity, my dosage will eventually increase as my symptoms get worse.
  • The maximum dosage for mirapex is 8mg per day. I am now at 4mg daily.
  • For me, the drug worked the day I started it. The tremor in my right hand ceased. However, it may take others some time to adapt to the drug and some may not be able to stomach it and require a different DA

How the doctors determine which DA to start a patient on, I do not know. If you have come here to be educated, be aware, I know which end of the horse to avoid but that is the extent of my knowledge of horses. My knowledge of DA's is similarly stunted.

As Thomas Aquinas once said,"hominem unius libri timeo" which loosely translates to "fear the man of one book".

That's all folks.

Monday 9 December 2013

I want to inspire, and be inspired.

in·spi·ra·tion (nsp-rshn)noun.
  • Stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity.
  • The condition of being so stimulated.
One person who (unknownly) inspired me right from my diagnosis was Chris. At the time, he moderated a small forum on PD that he has since let lapse in favour of a presence on facebook. I believe it has been 9 years since his diagnosis and a couple of years ago he returned to university. He keeps a blog entitled "Wearing off" and his most recent entry details some of the problems he might soon encounter in doing a presentation before his class mates. It gives you a good idea of what PWP must deal with. You can find it here and it is an interesting read. I am inspired by his approach to PD. He doesn't let it get him down and he carries on a life that is almost normal. Makes me think I still have a few good years left.

Living with PD requires creativity. The creativity of Chris, and others, inspires hope, optimism, and a desire to help inspire the newly diagnosed.

Saturday 7 December 2013

Walkin', yes indeed, I'm talking....about

I was driving away from the movement disorder building, when I chanced upon a woman walking along the sidewalk. She was much younger than I, but she moved like an old lady. She was stooped at the shoulders in a sort of semi-quasimodo effect, her steps were short and she slowly shuffled along. Classic PD, I thought to myself and then I realized she had caught me staring and I was the recipient of a pronounced "look". I wanted to stop the car and explain that I too, was a victim of the condition and I was simply trying to ascertain if I was looking at my future. I was too ashamed to stop. I kept driving but I was full of questions...was she the victim of young onset PD? how long ago was she diagnosed? Didn't the agonists work for her and if they did, how long ago did they stop? Was she on L-dopa and, if she was, why didn't it work? Was she on an "off" period? Was she considering deep brain stimulation? All of my fears went unanswered but unfortunately, I think I will eventually be able to answer them myself.

As I have said before, my symptoms seem to come and go but seem to be constant when I am walking. Certainly, I walk more slowly than I did a few months ago, but sometimes I feel like I am walking through treacle. And my right hand! My right hand, when hanging by my side as I walk, is possessed. It constantly shakes and I can only exorcise its movement by sticking it in a pocket at chest height, causing the twitching to cease... until I next let it loose.

Other than the bad hand that dominates my walking, I have returned to period of grace, with my symptoms held in check by the drugs. If there is a God, I thank him/her for that.

A few days ago, I reported being unable to get out of the bath tub. I am happy to say there has been no repetition of that little incident. It scared the poop out of me because I had convinced myself my PD was progressing slowly and this was a major setback. Now I put it down to an isolated occurrence that could happen to anybody my age and I am back on track to last a few more good years. At the same time I wonder if I am trying to drive out my obsession with the rapidity of the condition's progression by giving vent to it in my writing.

As some poet wrote (I have no idea who. This verse is all I can remember)

Who can tell, so grimly schooled
Such lord of self he seems
If devils that are mute by day
Assail him in his dreams"

Good night and sweet nightmares.

Tuesday 3 December 2013

Rub - a - dub Part 2

Successfully exited the tub today without incident. I guess it was just one of those things; one of the little joys of the shaking palsy.

Monday 2 December 2013

Rub - a - dub - dub

Woke up, got out of bed and went right to the bosu ball. I am getting quite good at it and it gives me a great workout. Spent about a half hour bouncing around. No balance issues. In fact, I was feeling pretty good, all in all.

I had to be at the dermatologist's at 7:45 AM for my annual skin checkup and I thought I should bathe before he began investigating my skin with a magnifier.

And then "IT" happened.

I poured my bath, got a book and relaxed for twenty minutes, reading and soaking away all my worries and woe. I would have stayed submerged for longer, but it was time to get ready.

Now, I ask you, have you ever had one of those days when you know you can do something, should be able to do it, especially since you have done it a thousand times before, without effort, because it was so easy? Something so simple a toddler could do it, but you are having a problem. This was one of those days.

I couldn't get out of the bathtub!!

I went to get out, but my muscles had other ideas. My arms buckled as they strained against the edges of the tub and my legs were of no help at all. Three times I tried, and each time I slipped and fell back into the water. What to do? What to do?. Finally, after trying, and failing, to use the conventional method of exiting a bathtub, commonly referred to as "standing up", I turned onto my side and flipped one leg over the edge of the tub and into a position that sort of helped me fall out.

I got up off the floor, stood up and immediately, I almost fell backwards. Balance issues! There was some mysterious force pulling me down from behind. I was light-headed. I leaned forward on the counter, looked at myself in the mirror and muttered, "So this is what they were talking about!"

To cut to the quick, in a few minutes I grew steady and was ready to take on the morning. Still, I awoke my wife to drive me to the clinic. I was too uncertain and a little shaken by the episode to drive. It may never happen again, like the doctor said about the festination incident, but if it does, I will be prepared.

It's just one thing after another!!

By the way, I will bathe again and I was given a clean bill of health by the dermatologist. Also, if there is one lesson I took from this, it is that those of us over 65 should never look at ourselves in a mirror. You might notice, as I did, that your stomach has grown in spite of all the exercise. I have just got to stop eating and I will...possibly... right after I finish this peanut butter sandwich. Friday at the latest.

Statistics (page views) for last week

  1. United States 105
  2. Canada 47
  3. United Kingdom 39
  4. France 15
  5. Germany 6
  6. China 4
  7. Bulgaria 3
  8. Egypt 3
  9. Peru 3
  10. Russia 3

total hits 19,213

Sunday 1 December 2013

I ain't afraid of no....

Confucious say: "Success depends upon previous preparation, and without such preparation there is sure to be failure.

About 25 years ago, I went with two young guys (maybe 17 at the time) to a football game in late November. The temperature was -20C (4 below F), with a cool north wind. I dressed in long underwear, jeans, and sweatpants with double socks and thick artic boots on my lower half and from the waist up, a thermal undershirt, t-shirt, heavy sweater, down parka, garbageman mitts and a touque. I was prepared. The two boys picked me up and I was surprised to see that both wore jackets, jeans, running shoes. They had no hat and no gloves, but they did have an attitude. They razed me about being a phoney Canadian who couldn't take the weather. After all, they said, it's not that bad out there.

"Do you think it is September! Have you lost your minds! Have you two morons ever been to a game in November?" I asked and they replied that they had not, still full of bravdo and attitude

"You will freeze!" I said.

"It's not that cold out," one replied through a big smile.

"Well, that's true, but we will be sitting for at least 2 hours with a cold north wind winding up to send the temperature down. You are going to freeze."

"No way" was the response, "and anyway you gotta look cool and we look cool, very cool.

We found our seats and as half time approached, the two boys left to go to the washroom (restroom)where I told them there was heat. They remained macho and kind of glided down the stairs to their destination. Maybe they would be OK. Maybe I was overdressed but then, so were most of the fans in the stands.

Half time came and I decided to find them and I did. They were huddled below the bathroom heater and were in the process of wrapping toilet paper around their feet in an attempt to keep them warm.

I started laughing and in a second they did too.

"Boys," I said sarcastically, "You sure look cool now, very cool, with toilet paper sticking out of your socks!

I had come suitably prepared; they had not and they missed most of the game.

Over the years, I kept in touch with one of boys, who is now a successful Toronto business man, and we get together a couple of times a year and invariably the chatter gets to that football game and we enjoy it all again.

What's this got to do with PD? I hear you asking. Not much. It is a parable. I prepared for the game and was able to stay until the end without freezing. The boys were not prepared and spent most of the second half in the bathroom, and missed the action. My battle is with PD and although I can't win ---yet--, I am preparing for the fight, eating right, avoiding stress, taking my meds and most of all, exercising. I am hoping this kind of preparation will keep me relatively free from symptoms right up until the end of the game. If you don't prepare, it will cause you to miss at least half the game huddled in your sanctum sanctorum.

There is no metaphor in the toilet paper.

Keep warm, that is the lesson for today.

Thursday 28 November 2013

The wheels on the bus go round and round....

There are times I feel like a sap in a malicious GROUNDHOG DAY movie. As I have said in earlier posts, my symptoms come and go. Let's see. What now?
  • Swallowing - I am having a slight problem swallowing, just as I had a couple of years ago.
  • Tremor - although omnipresent, there are calm times and jiggy times. This is one of the jiggy times. Much of the tremor is not openly apparent, unless one has X-ray vision and can see into my right arm where the trembling muscles are having a wonderful time at my expense.
  • Falls - I still bear a large, unattractive scar from my last fall so you'd think that would serve as a reminder to me to pick up my feet when walking. No such luck. I stubbed my toe and went head-over-heels. Fortunately, there was sufficient new snow on the ground to soften the blow and the thick gloves and other winter gear I was wearing protected me. No harm done. Except to my ego.
  • Night Twitching - this had dissipated over the past few weeks but it has returned with a fury. All I need do is close my eyes and both legs and arms and sometimes my neck will "twitch". It doesn't last long and is no great bother. It is as if the muscles had stored up excess energy and were enjoying themselves by releasing bulks of that energy at varying times in various body parts.

There are 3 symptoms that never change

  • Exhaustion - I wake up tired and I remain tired all day until the evening when it is time to sleep and I can't. I now get by on 5 hours sleep and I need more.
  • Slowness - PD slows you down. Yesterday, downtown, I thought I was moving at a reasonable pace but I was passed by a couple of drunks and two elderly gentleman, one of whom was using a cane!
  • Finally, there is my voice, or lack thereof. I should have practised my voice lessons. The course I took from the speech therapist was excellent and helped alot. Unfortunately it is up to the victim to practise and I did not. Now I get tired of hearing "Whatzat?" "Pardon me" and the humiliating "Will you speak up a bit, I can't hear a word you are speaking"

Sadly (maybe gladly) I daily cultivate a quiet serenity at a snail's pace while catching the occasional afternoon cat nap or a British TV series on Netflix (see below) . There is something eerily magical about solitude.

The Hour

Monday 25 November 2013

DEFCON 2

RELAX, myself scolds me, scale readiness back to DEFCON 2. You were prepared for a major battle, but it never appeared. Why? Because you took that extra 1mg of Mirapex in your daily dose and the tremors have gone into hiding. Things will be good until the next time but be ready to move to maximum readiness because you are running out of ammunition. You are already maxed out of amantadine and you are now at 4mg of mirapex - only 4mg per day left in the ammo dump.

That's all true, I respond to myself, but you forget. I am a nuclear power. I still have the bomb. I still have L-dopa. I hope I won't have to use it but the odds are against me. For now I use what I have and get back to a state of semi-normalcy during this cease fire.

"In moments of clarity, I believe we have your number, parkyman. It is only a matter of time."

"GRRRRR Dream on, little dreamer, dream on"

Tuesday 19 November 2013

There will come soft rains

We are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight
Where ignorant armies clash by night

The poet, Matthew Arnold, who wrote "Dover Beach", died at the age of 66. I have surpassed him by one year. He died of a heart attack while running to catch a street car. That kind of death is not in my plans. No heart attack for me; so, how shall I go? I hope I have a dignified death because it is possible that my dignity may suffer over the next decade or so. Like the last two lines of "Dover Beach", I am clashing with my enemy, PD, but, alas, my foe is winning at the moment. I have had to increase my dose of mirapex in order to hold the front line and calm the tremor in my right hand. I know I can't win the war, but the occasional victory in a battle would be much appreciated.

If there is anyone out there, some kind of genius, who can help me win the war, give me a call. I will be indebted.

Some of the time I fear I will not live long enough to see a cure and you, you sad genius, will not get your reward. At other times, I am convinced that I will see the day when PD is eradicated. Like everyone else, I will have a rendezvous with death, so get to work but keep in mind,"He that dies pays all debts" (W. Shakespeare).

That Shakespeare was one smart cookie.

There is a touch of irony there.

"Shakespeare"! Get it?

Friday 15 November 2013

Gimme a break, Plato

Nothing in the affairs of men is worthy of great anxiety

WHO SAID THAT???

You were a very smart philosopher, Plato, but apparently you were never the victim of the shaking palsy. We who have been stricken have our moments of pure anxiety. You would too if you could no longer predict a serene future, relaxing at the lake in your old age. Our futures are clouded by the specter of PD. We know we are losing dopomine producing cells daily and there is nothing we can do about it. We can't even predict the onset of any of the 5 stages because each one of us will be different. I believe I am progressing slowly as the third anniversary of my diagnosis looms over me. I don't feel much worse than I did before diagnosis. I have a positive outlook but there are those moments, when I am alone with my thoughts, it comes to me...ANXIETY. I mean I have a DEGENERATIVE brain disorder, that should allow me be a little anxious now and again. So screw you Plato!

I have been delighting myself about my lack of symptoms then my wife reminded me:

  • People can barely hear me
  • Every so often my face shows no expression
  • every so often I am stooped forward when standing.

Bugger this! I am going to watch "The Killing". That should cheer me up!

Sunday 10 November 2013

A pox on the heads of ......

Amantadine, that powerful, fabulous drug is in short supply. For two months my pharmacy has not had any amantadine and nobody knows what's going on with manufacturer. That is the drug that I believe, controls my tremor. Without amantadine, the shaking palsy would return. Fortunately, there is a place in town that fills its own capsules and I was able to get 300 of them but a 4 per day they won't last that long and then what???

I have an odd sleeping pattern. By 8pm, when I take my last dose of amantadine, I am totally, inhumanely exhausted. All I want to do is sleep so I watch TV to spur on the appearance of Morpheus, but within an hour or so, I find myself wide awake and unable to sleep. Now I know why.

Now listen carefully, my PD brothers and sisters. You should really read the information sheet that that accompanies the drugs. You start to read it and then stop after the first couple sentences. Why stop? For me, I never read it because it lists so many side effects,it scares the bejeezus out of me. Well, the 300 pills I purchased came with a sheet that informed me of only the common side effects including AMANTADINE CAUSES INSOMNIA. Whoa! Insomnia! That can't be good. Hey, maybe that is why I am sleepless after that the 8pm dose. I think that might be the case. Now I will have to screw up my schedule and take the bitter little pill at 6pm or, I can stop taking it or, I can reduce the dosage. Of those 3 choice, I think I will try screwing up my schedule.

I really believe my PD is progressing more slowly than most. As I said in an earlier entry, most of the weird symptoms are gone, leaving only the tremor and exhaustion. But, that's not quite true, I forgot that people can't hear me when I am speaking, that my gait is slowing down and that I am having difficulty rising out of soft sofas. So those symptoms remain as a constant reminder that the disease is still progressing. My wife, (where would I be without her)who is a physiotherapist, has helped me learn new techniques to overcome some of my difficulties. A physiotherapist! Could a person with parkinson's ask for a better caregiver? Judging by the picture below, she has her work cut out for her.

Wednesday 6 November 2013

It's a moody Manitoba morning

I compare PD to a game of Snakes and Ladders, the snakes being the symptoms that can be very rude and the ladders are the recovery from those symptoms. My encounter with PD has been a series of suffering and recovering, down the snakes and up the ladders. Fortunately, so far at least, for every snake, there has been a ladder but, unfortunately for every ladder, I have slipped down a snake. Let me count the ways:
  1. Trouble swallowing (snake). Lasted about 3 weeks, disappeared and has not returned (ladder)
  2. Exhaustion to the nth degree (SN) Yes, but an hour's nap revives me until around bedtime (LA)
  3. excessive saliva making me slur and spit out my words (SN) Now excessively dry mouth is my constant companion (due to medication). Thank goodness for Biotene spray / toothpaste, that relieve dry mouth (LA)
  4. Inability to find words when speaking (SN)has led me to write out my thoughts wherein I have no inability (LA)
  5. Right hand shaking (SN)drugs keep it quiet,

Now for the ladders

  1. Amantadine is a great drug for me - works wonders!(LA) The manufacturer has slowed production, making it difficult to obtain(SN)
  2. No sense of smell - makes it easier to be around my granddaughter when her diaper needs changing (LA) I can't smell food, flowers, gas, etc. (SN)
  3. constipation - yes, believe it or not - I used to suffer from the other end of the "poop" spectrum. Now I can exercise without having to have a bathroom nearby (LA)By the 3rd day, voiding becomes unpleasant to say the least.(SN)

These symptoms come and go and are unpredictable. This appears to be a good thing. I suffered greatly at first, but now, right at this moment, I am feeling quite normal and to boost my normality I have reasoned the following:

  • hallucinations outside, early morning, are either caused by darkness and shadows in the moonlight or an overactive imagination.
  • Hallucinations inside are always out of my right eye and are early in the morning when I am concentrating on the daily crossword. The right eye that was subjected to laser surgery, left many "floaters" -ie - lines and shapes that float around somewhere in the eyeball. I have decided that these floaters fool my mind into seeing microsecond apparitions and they are not hallucinations.
Of course, I can't explain nonexistent barking dogs, or someone walking on my bed, or an astronaut floating beside me, except to conclude I was dreaming.

The best thing about dreams is in that special moment, when you are between asleep and awake; when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy; when, for just that fleeting second, you believe, without a doubt, that the dream was reality, and it really happened.

That about sums up my preference for dreaming, for unreality that you hope will become real.

In fact, I am thinking about going for my nap, right now, to dream about snakes turning into ladders.

.Statistics for the past week (page views):

  1. United States 100
  2. Canada 51
  3. United Kingdom 48
  4. China 7
  5. Peru 6
  6. Bahrain 3
  7. Germany 3
  8. Ukraine 3
  9. India 1
  10. South Korea 1

Friday 1 November 2013

I see dead people - a critique of a sense of self

Well, I don't really see dead people, but I do see strange people out of the corner of my right eye when I am concentrating, most often in the morning. I haven't had any hallucinations in quite some time but they have come back. The latest ones this past week include a 7ft man standing off to my right, putting on his coat, a little girl dealing cards (again off to my right) and this morning, on my walk, I saw some guy riding a donkey (or it might have been a miniature camel) down the middle of the street.. Just a trick of the dark, I assured myself, but it kept on coming until I was about 20 feet away, when it disappeared. Am I dreaming? Are my eyes playing tricks? Do I have a hyper-active imagination? Are they hallucinations? Or maybe I have mad cow disease.

I am no medico. I am just a normal guy and I have no idea what causes me to see things. They don't bother me because I know they are not real and I never get lonely.

I am definitely not crazy. I think it is just another of PD's little gifts, either alone or with the help of my medications. And don't label me as being delusional, (defined as a belief held with strong conviction despite superior evidence to the contrary) because I am not. Or maybe that certainty is in itself delusional. Maybe I am delusional, but it leads me to a higher calling. That great American humorist, Ambrose Bierce, once commented that any man who could analyze his own delusions was a philosopher.

Yes, that is what I am, a PWD (a philosopher with delusions). I have to be; PWP have to be philosophical and perhaps delusional to maintain a strong sense of their futures. To me, my hallucinations are the shadows in Plato's cave, just a part of my non-reality.

This little catharsis has led me to a conclusion----I have an infinite capacity for self delusion---- ----I am, without a Platonicall doubt, a delusional philosopher.

Sunday 27 October 2013

All generalizations are false, including this one. (Mark Twain)

I hate exercise; although, I had been a runner for about 30 years until PD forced me to the ground in a rather violent manner. It's OK. It gave me a reason to stop running. Exercise! Every step is a misery, every lift a conundrum and don't get me started on my god-forsaken stationary bike. But, all the research I have read says exercise can slow down the progression of PD and that will be a fact, probably until the next "big" discovery comes along. It might claim that PWP should not exercise, but should take warm baths or whatnot.

However, being the lemming that I am, I am sticking with the exercise protocol currently in vogue. I have been asked what my particular exercise regime is. It is not arduous, just mind numbing. I mean how many times can one person listen to Afghanada on the ipod?! This is my new sequence. Sunday around 5AM, walk 3 miles, stopping only to get a newspaper and a coke at the local 7/11. Monday, ride the stationary bike for 30 minutes, try to keep my heart rate in the 95-115 range; when finished, I walk to the 7/11 (about 1/2 of a mile in total) to get a paper and a coke, Wednesday lift dumbbells for a half an hour in various positions and do the 7/11 routine, Thursday no exercise. Begin a new cycle on Friday, only in reverse. I also do about 20 minutes of stretching before the torture. The result? Well, I am fairly certain exercise works but strangely I put on a pound or three and I get tired, exhausted actually, and have to take a nap in the afternoon.

As the man said, I need 8 hours of sleep a day................. and another 8 at night.

Total page views to date.....17,954!

Tuesday 22 October 2013

Stress: Can be a Noun or Verb (tansitive or intransitive). But, who cares?

Stress Takes Its Toll in Parkinson's Disease

"It is believed that stress management and other stress relieving activities can improve the condition and reduce the symptoms of Parkinson's disease sufferers. Along with proper medication, good sleep patterns and regular exercise, stress management can be an effective strategy in managing the disease and reducing the rate of progression of the disease.....Reducing stress is the key to keep Parkinson's disease symptoms to a minimum....(See: 2007 Stress Management Review)

If stress can speed up the onset of PD, then a lack of stress should slow down the loss of dopamine producing neurons. So PWP should avoid stress - noun, verb, whatever. See if you recognize your stress as a noun or a verb in the following examples. If you do, kick that part of speech" to the curb". Slow down. Relax. Just let the moment pass.

  • Example: Stress as a noun, Funerals can cause stress.
  • Example: Stress as a transitive verb, He stessed the fact that he was emotional at funerals.
  • Example: Stress as an intransitive verb, Don't stress about the funeral

Funerals! What's all this talk about funerals and stress? Well, sit back and relax and I will tell you my story

My mother died a few weeks back. She welcomed death and knowing that, the family decided to hold a celebration of a life long lived and so they arrived from east and western Canada. We were a crowd of 21 people and much to my brother's disgust the funeral director gathered the family in a separate room to await the family entry into the chapel, the "perp walk" as my brother called it with a nervous laugh. It was then I noticed a slight tremor in my right hand. The service began, the slight tremor began to increase. When two of my children and their cousin began to read the eulogy I had written, emotion came into play and my pointing finger started to bounce. When the readers reached the final paragraph, two of them began weeping while the third tried to hold it together in order to finish. It was a valiant effort, but he did choke up and weeping and sniffling was rampant. As for me, the tears came and the right handed tremor began a jitterbug that lasted trough the reception, through the wake and all the next day. It settled into a mid-sized tremor on the following day and today, it has slowed to a slight wiggle.

Do you think it was stress that caused that unregulated right hand to appear? Of course it was; I lost a few hundred more neurons than usual in those four days. Maybe many more. In fact, I think that if each neuron lost was equal to a calorie, I would have turned into a hunk a hunk of burning love. A shaky hunk, but a hunk nevertheless.

Excuse me while I look for a mirror

Saturday 12 October 2013

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded....

There are 1.265 million people in my province and apparently only 6,000 of us suffer from PD. If you just take these two populations, it means I had about a 1/2 of 1% chance of being a PwP, as did each of my fellow PDers.

I bring this up because yesterday, I went to a lecture on income tax. There were approximately 100 participants, but still several empty seats. I sat at the back, as is my wont, so I could escape if the lecture got boring, which was highly probable - I mean it was on income tax. There was an empty seat beside me and a large man sat down and introduced himself just as the lecture started. Now, I was heavily medicated so I bore no signs of my dark passenger (I am a fan of Dexter). After awhile, I noticed his right hand doing the PD polka as it rested on his knee. Couldn't be, I said to myself. He must be hearing interior music and he is just keeping time. But, the hand and one finger did not stop moving except when he folded his arms, took a drink, or tried to make notes. The movement was especially noticeable when the hand was resting on his knee. He had it! A parky brother! The first I had met in real life!

What are the odds? There must have been 30 open chairs to sit in but he chose the one beside me. Two lawyers, with you-know-what, seated together at a dreaded lecture on income tax. I ask you again; what are the odds!? I used to know how to calculate them but that little gem of knowledge has faded with time. I do however, know those are long odds.

I intended to ask him if he was a fellow traveler, but I had to leave as my parking meter was getting to the point where a tow away was distinctly possible. The next time I see him, I will(or he will) welcome him (me) into the fraternity, Phi Beta Shakeah, the brotherhood of PwP, who figure God's dice must be loaded. Someone in the game is cheating.

Of course God and the high rolling angels can always counter with Un coup de des jamais n'abolira le hasard""


A throw of the dice will never abolish chance.

Friday 11 October 2013

A lack of habit and routine can be costly. - an essay on the hippy hippy shake.

Jim Morrison once said that drugs are a bet with the mind. I am pretty sure he meant that in a negative way. In my case, and probably for the whole tribe of PWP, it can be said that a lack of drugs is a bet with the mind.

I am not good with remembering to take my drugs (mirapex and amantadine). Unfortunately, I am a touch obsessive and when I start to work, all of my energy and common sense is focused on the product of my work. Medication? What me worry? (remember Mad magazine) I will take them soon. But "soon" apparently has a different meaning in my world because I put off taking the meds until I forget about them completely. Yesterday, I went about 12 hours without taking one dose and the result was I got that Parkie feeling - tired, light headed, slow, difficulty with balance and a pronounced shaking tremor. The voices of the people talking to me were hollow sounding and my responses were slow and full of stammers. I had difficulty manuevering around the grandchildren and their toys. I was a sober drunk.

Today, I am fully medicated and the shakes have retreated. My brain is functioning again. Jim Morrison's statement can now be viewed as being positive, the drugs have won the bet, much to the relief of my body. I am not completely normal as I am going now to have a nap (a "lie down" as Basil Fawlty used to say). I just can't shake the exhaustion that can only be understood by PWP.

One of the "yogiisms" of that famous Yankee catcher, Yogi Berra, that I whole-heartedly agree with is, "I usually take a 2 hour nap between one and four".

Page Views for the past week

  1. United Kingdom 51
  2. Canada 48
  3. United States 41
  4. China 11
  5. Russia 3
  6. Ukraine 3
  7. Germany 2
  8. Kazakhstan 2
  9. Belarus 1
  10. Iran 1

Total to date: 17,525

Tuesday 8 October 2013

The Wrath of the Grape

It is very cold here in the winter. We have to escape the deep freeze. We choose to not get warm using the method of Sam Mcgee, so instead, we head to South Miami Beach for 3 weeks each year. We have to go when it is President's Day, for the sales - particularly at Macey's. My wife is very fond of Macey's on President's Day! We also try to hit an event. We used to go on tours, but over the past 12 years we have done most, if not all, of the interesting ones. Two years ago, we went the Wine and Food Festival, but at $150 a pop, it was a flop. We vowed never to go again. Last year we had tickets to the Comedy Festival, but I felt too parky so we passed it by. Mostly we just enjoy summer in February and March, but this year we got intrigued once again by the Wine and Food Festival, particularly a seminar about "Ice Cream and Champagne Sharing". Now I am an aficionado of both ice cream and the bubbly. We purchased 2 tickets. I will let you know the outcome later, if I survive.

But this is not about my love of good champagne, it is about fear. If you have been a reader from the start, you might recall I have had a couple of falls caused by PD. I also had an odd PD gait one early morning. I didn't fall, I just couldn't control my feet and I felt that if I stopped, I wouldn't get going again. I ended up ankle deep in a puddle, with 3 people looking at me with just a hint of disgust - a drunk, so early in the morning! My fear is that I will have a few glasses of wine, encounter fenistation and weave my way toward home ending up flat on my face with an audience. My ordinary PD stride lacks control at the best of times, but with added champagne encouragement, I am afraid I might make a spectacle of myself.

Too bad, I am going to enjoy the seminar to the maximum.

I just thought of the opening lines of that Scottish poem The Ballad of Sir Patrick Spens

The king sits in Dumfermline town.
Drinking the blude-red wine

That will be me, king for a day, with my trusty wife to hold me up.

I would like to thank everyone who has contacted me, by email, with their comments and also thank you for your condolences on the passing of my mother.

“I feel a very unusual sensation – if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude.”
Benjamin Disraeli

Thursday 3 October 2013

I think I am aging in dog years.

I forgot my evening dose of medicine Monday night and was wakened at about 4AM by a wrenching cramp in my leg. That was a wake up call to remind me not to forget. The problem is, as I grow older, I grow stupider by the day and I have over developed the art of forgetting. I would program reminders into my phone but I, much to my disgust, have become technology-challenged when it comes to smart phones. I am on the road to becoming a luddite.

My right hand is shaking more persistently these days and, at times, I feel like I am walking on a waterbed. I think it is stress. My mother died this past weekend. She was 95 and enthusiastically welcomed the grim reaper. It is a time of celebration for a life well lived, no heavy grief, but plenty of stress. They say that in life we search for utopia and in death we find it. Good for you mom.

By the way, I never did tell my mother about my condition. She had enough problems without worrying about me. Fortunately, she died before the symptoms of PD surfaced. Thank goodness for small victories.

I think I will double my dose of mirapex to see if I can stop this bothersome hand jive. I am not fond of regular dancing (much to my wife's disappointment) so you can imagine my feelings about the rhythm of the PD dance. I'd rather trim my nose hairs with a weed whacker than occupy the dance floor.

But I digress. Back to PD. Sometimes I fear what lies ahead. Not often; just sometimes. Then I give my head a shake. Nobody can predict with any accuracy how fast PD will take over, so when that fear creeps in, I just think about Star Wars - as Yoda said, "Always in motion is the future."

May the force be with you.

Wednesday 25 September 2013

Reality Show Fatigue

I detest reality shows. I find them to be trivial and downright boring. So, I don't watch them. I admit to watching the first couple of seasons of Survivor and American Idol but totally lost interest. Anyway, I read in today's paper that the winner of The Amazing Race Canada has parkinson's. He is only 48 years old, but $500,000.00 richer. He was diagnosed about the same time as I was - 3 years ago. It's good to hear that one of the tribe is succeeding at holding his own against PD while beating non-parky contestants.

The article also contained some good news/bad news. I will give you the bad news first.

"A jerky gait, tremors, ticks and a paralysis-like stiffening of joints eventually renders sufferers unable to walk or eat".

Are you trying to cheer me up? Sure the inability to walk or eat might be the end game but, most of us will be dead before we lose those abilities and in the meantime, current or developing drugs will let us have a decent life. PD took out Ali after 25 to 30 years and I plan to die within 20 years (I am 67), so I fret more about all the technology I am going to miss (when I become a part of the ether) than I do about not being able to feed myself. So lose the negativity lady reporter.

However, the reporter also reported some good news, "Patients who do 3 hours a week of cardiovascular exercise for a year can expect to score 30% better on a medical scale that measures the severity of Parkinson's symptoms compared with sedentary patients...". Well, I've got that one covered so I am good to go.

We just don't know who is going to deteriorate quickly or who is hardly going to notice the condition. That is the reality.

But,as Albert Einstein said:Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

Watch Michael J. Fox tonight while you do your treadmill workout.

Tuesday 24 September 2013

A Horse is a Horse of Course of Course....

Some days my symptoms disappear completely and I engage myself in a quiet conversation that the 3 neurologists, who diagnosed me, must have been wrong.

I don't have parkinson's at all.

Must be something else.

Like what?

I don't know. Maybe essential tremor.

I don't think so

Well it could be something else. Maybe the strain of a workout gets me jiggy

Right!

Then something else might happen that brings me back to reality. For example, as I have said before, stress brings out the symptoms. Last night I watched the pilot of "Blacklist" and the final of "Dexter". Talk about stress! Those two programs had my right hand jumping around like one of those Mexican beans. Uncontrollable - And I was loaded with medication at the time too.

My silent conversation continues.

Your hand is lying on the bed doing nothing and a TV show can make it tremble.

What's your point?

Can't be essential tremor because your hand has to be doing something in that condition in order to tremble.

OK, OK. You've made your point. It's PD.

What's interesting is the background music during such surrealistic confabs is always the same:

A horse is a horse of course of course
And no one can talk to a horse of course
Unless of course .......

I think you know what I am talking about. If you were alive during the golden age of television, you can finish that little jewel of a theme song yourself.

There is no doubt. I have parkinsons! I got it straight from the horse's mouth.

Stats for last week:

  1. United States 102
  2. Canada 51
  3. United Kingdom 28
  4. Ukraine 13
  5. China 8
  6. Poland 3
  7. Bangladesh 2
  8. Latvia 2
  9. Denmark 1
  10. Ireland 1

Total page views to date ---- 17,000!

Wednesday 18 September 2013

The Fine Print Taketh Away!!!!

I went to see my neurologist a couple of days ago. The appointment lasted about 15 minutes as I explained the negative milestones in my life with PD. He asked if I felt a need to increase my dosage of mirapex. I felt no such need. He smiled and as I was rising to go he said "You are doing very well. Most people your age and stage do not do this well. I think it is because you are fit. You look good and are doing well." With that little gem ringing in my ears, I left. Back home, I told my wife and she remarked that it was "... good news, isn't it?" I replied in the affirmative but (and with this disease there is always a "but") my brain was telling me to read the fine print that I am trying to ignore:


Parkinson's disease is a disease of the nervous system that gets worse over time.

Monday 16 September 2013

When Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane

I spent 3 days at the cottage, mostly sleeping and reading; went for my usual walk each day - in the dark. At the end of my walk, I habitually pick up the morning newspapers at the corner store. Today was no different. The clerk asked me "Did you go for your usual walk?"

"Yes"

"It is so dark now and so cold"

"Yes, but it doesn't bother me. I do it on the coldest days of January." (Ever the macho man)

"In the city?"

"Yes"

Arn't you scared?"

I had to chuckle. Why do rural people think the city is a dangerous place? I have never been scared - nervous once - but that was a result of my own biases.

It is the same thing with my undesirable partnership with PD. Granted, it is a formidable foe but I am not scared, just a little nervous. There are sites that predict a dire future, but there are PWP who have put up with the disease for a couple of decades and are still leading productive lives and I choose to think positively and can even envision a cure. But in the back of my mind I can sense the forest trees starting to move toward me.

Forget it pal. This is not Dunsinane and I refuse to suffer any thing near the fate of Macbeth! Onward and Upward ....... I think.

Wednesday 11 September 2013

Round 2 The Sequel

After a careful analysis of my injuries my guru (my wife) and I have concluded that festination was not the cause of my fall. Oh, it was caused by PD, just not the festination problem. Our thinking process was as follows:
  • the sorest part of my lower body is the big toe of my right foot
  • the majority of damage is to the left side of my body
  • the back of my left hand is a conspicuous mess, as is the left side of my face.
  • PwP tend to shuffle, even when running
  • the right side of my body is most affected by PD which tends to cause the right leg not to work as well as the left
  • As usual when I run, I daydream
  • I was daydreaming

Ergo my right foot is the culprit. In a shuffle, my right toe hit the pavement and as my left leg completed the step, my right foot dragged, sending me into an uncontrollable fall. I can distinctly recall the last moment before I hit. I was passing over my left leg and trying to get my head onto the grass to the left of me. My left arm braced for impact and buckled under me, damaging the back of my hand. I was unsuccessful in reaching the grass. No festination, just a part of the old PD Gait.

Case closed.

Prepare for round 3

In Round 3, I will come out swinging. As Muhammad Ali once said "If you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize."

Here are some examples of the PD gait which develops over time. Not every person with PD will have all or even some of them.

  • Difficulty or slowness to start walking as a result of developing bradykinesia.
  • Shortened stride.
  • Bending forwards while walking, with rapid, small, shuffling steps and a tendency to run (festination). Festination may only develop at later stages of the disease and becomes more pronounced as the disease progresses. So, I have only suffered the symptom one time last winter and maybe the doctor will be right and I will never encounter it again.
  • Stiff, flexed posture is due to rigidity or increased muscular tone.
  • Tendency to stoop and lean forward while walking.
  • Difficulty in maintaining balance on turning is due to impaired postural righting reflexes.
  • Reduced arm swing while walking, especially on the side where Parkinson’s is more pronounced.
  • Tendency to fall, due to poor balance, may develop at a later stage of Parkinson’s disease.
  • Freezing – inability to move or start walking or stopping in mid-step, as if frozen on the spot (‘statue’).

Monday 9 September 2013

Round 2 - down for an 8 count

FESTINATION Definition: Bending forwards while walking, with rapid, small, shuffling steps and a tendency to run.

Notice there is no mention of the fact you get going so quickly, your chest gets lower and lower and your steps get shorter and shorter until eventually you slam into the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. You might recall from an earlier post that it happened to me last winter. My resulting face plant was into a pile of snow. No harm done. One of the doctors remarked that it might never happen again.

Well, it did happen again........ this morning. I was running at about 6AM when I began to go down. I was on the sidewalk and tried my best, as I was falling, to get my head onto the grass. Grass is softer than pavement. No such luck. I hit the cement with the left side of my body and for a second, I wondered if I was going to black out. I didn't. I got up and walked home. Fortunately, there was nobody around to witness this spectacle, or the blood seeping out of the damage to my body. My left hand was shredded, and I had significant cuts, scrapes and bruising to my knees, right hand, left arm and shoulder. But, the PD saved the best for the last, the left side of my face introduced itself to the sidewalk and was thoroughly damaged. And it hurts, boy does it hurt. There is swelling just under the eye that is going to result in a colorful shiner and my chin is scrapped to the extent that I couldn't shave there.

I may never run again. As a doctor once told me ten years ago, when I complained of pain in my legs, "Running is contraindicated". That didn't stop me then, but this incident will probably make me carefully examine the pros and cons of running versus walking. We'll see what happens. A flaw in my character is that I am a bad loser and I can't take this set back like a gentleman. I may HAVE to run again.

Or maybe I will just stay in bed. Sleeping people can't fall down.


'Ave a look at this then, as a friend in England used to say.

Thursday 5 September 2013

Parkinson's, dinosaurs and other stuff.

SOME EARLY SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF PARKINSON'S

  • Change in facial expression (staring, lack of blinking)
  • Failure to swing one arm when walking
  • Flexion (stooped) posture
  • "Frozen" painful shoulder
  • Limping or dragging of one leg
  • Numbness, tingling, achiness or discomfort of the neck or limbs
  • Softness of the voice
  • Subjective sensation of internal trembling
  • Resting tremor

Source: Signs and Symptoms | University of Maryland Medical Center http://umm.edu/programs/parkinsons/health/symptoms#ixzz2e1szfqUC University of Maryland Medical Center

To these, I will add one more:

  • frequent bouts of foot cramping.

These are early signs, as the disease progresses, the symptoms become more pronounced and one or more of the following symptoms will become more disruptive:

  • Tremor
  • Rigidity
  • Akinesia (lack of movement or loss of spontaneous movement)
  • Bradykinesia (slowness of movement)
  • Problems with walking and posture.

More about Parkinson's

  • In the 1600's, some people felt that eating earthworms could help resolve parkinson's issues
  • Japanese women are more likely to develop parkinson's than are Japanese men.
  • I believe heredity plays a role. Both of my parents began to shake as they got older. Literature says that heredity only increases one's chance of developing the disease and doesn't mean it is inevitable. The fact is, science just doesn't know.
  • Lastly, it is thought dinosaurs may have been victims of the disease, scientists call it "Jurassic Parkinson's"


Ouch! Just kidding about the dinosaurs.

Monday 2 September 2013

TRUMPED!

On Saturday I ran 1.8 miles before my lungs tried to jump out of my throat to find a less hostile environment. My intention is to step it up to 2 miles this week so, today I began that mission. I actually planned to try to complete it today, allowing the trumpets in my mind to herald a new beginning. Unfortunately, it was not to be.

Remember "festination"? Also known as "Parkinson's gait"? Here is a litle reminder:

Festination is an alteration in gait pattern characterized by a quickening and shortening of normal strides.

If you have read my earlier entries, you might remember I suffered a bout of festination last winter. I got strange feeling, as if I was being pulled forward. I began moving faster with my steps getting shorter, my head bowing lower, until I ended up face first in the snow. Today, as I was running, I began to get that feeling about a half mile into my run so I stopped and walked. I stood straight, forced my feet to fall - heel first then toe, swung my arms and took longer steps and it worked! The feeling went away but by then I was at a 7-11 so I stopped and bought a newspaper and walked home reading. I had beaten PD. Another pyrrhic victory for me. But PD had prevented me from completing my mission. Another defeat.

Hell.... I will just call the entire battle a wash.

Sunday 25 August 2013

Land of the Rising Sun(day)

I had a somewhat "iffy" day yesterday (Saturday). I was a little off balance and had difficulty rising from the couch. It wasn't terrible - I didn't come close to falling, but it is a foreshadowing of things to come. I think slowness and mid-afternoon exhaustion, are the symptoms that affect me the most. Other symptoms seem, oddly, to come and go; for instance, my balance is no problem today. My right hand tremor does make an appearance periodically but it only embarrasses me. I find it annoying.

I had a lot of work to do this past week and the stress allowed the tremor to free itself from the drugs. To escape the rigors of work and to have some quiet time to enjoy my granddaughter, I went to the cottage on Friday. Just so I wouldn't get too far behind, I took along two files, only to find that one of them was empty. That was a minor upset compared to later that day when my beloved Blue Bombers played their way to their 6th straight loss. Their record is now one win and 7 losses and I can't see them winning again this season because, well...the team stinks! Anyway, that loss was enough stress to cause my tremor to reappear (I think Goldilocks and the 3 bears would be enough stress to cause the tremor to reappear). I used Michael J's strategy and kept my right hand hidden in my pocket when in public. Of course, this imbalance only increased my balance problems so I went to bed early. I awoke refreshed and ready to run. It was 4:30AM and the temperature was already 24C. I did my stretching routine and left the cottage at 5:15 and took the picture below at about 5:45. Now you know why I like to exercise at the break of dawn and why I am so relaxed and symptom free when I am finished.

Winnipeg Beach on a hot August morning

"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature." (Anne Frank)

Stats for the last week - the total is now 16,005 page views.

  • Canada 84
  • United States 50
  • Russia 23
  • United Kingdom 16
  • France 6
  • Australia 2
  • Netherlands 2
  • Poland 2

Tuesday 20 August 2013

The speed limit is my event horizon

We know what the speed of light is, but what is the speed of dark? Well, I know it all too well....the speed of dark is roughly equal to the speed at which I can run a mile and a half. Yes, I have pushed myself to that distance but with a burning chest and a lack of breath. I turn my ipod up high so I won't hear the scuffle of my shuffling feet - it is possible to shuffle while you run. Of course the resulting friction must be what is slowing me down because I want to go faster, but I am so much slower than pre - PD (almost 3 years since dx). Stockings run faster than I do. At my fastest, I experience the speed of dark, slow, oh so slow.

But....I am over the hill and gathering speed.

It has been 3 years and really, nothing has changed greatly - except for my loss of smell (I haven't smelled much for the past 20 years) and my loss of confidence in my speaking ability but physically, I am fit and the tremors are being held in check by the drugs.

I lose all my confidence when I open my mouth to speak. Word retrieval is nearly impossible at times and embarrassing silence can result in the middle of a sentence. Oddly, this condition is sometimes missing. It is like I have a multiple personality disorder. I prefer the garrulous one, even if he doesn't have much worth saying and anyway, nobody can hear him. Silence is my companion. Luckily, I have confidence in my writing. The words come easily and it always interesting to see in which direction they go and where they finally end up. No brain freezes in the written word and I am glad of that.

Just met with clients - no brain freezes today, some sputtering but I covered it up by sounding scholarly.

Just got the news. I am the only one available to babysit my 2 year old granddaughter for 2-3 hours tomorrow. I don't have any problem with that - unless I have to change her. Sense of smell or not - anybody got a spare hazmat suit?

That's all for now. I am going to lie down and imagine a world without the Kardashians.

Friday 16 August 2013

I shake, therefore I am - PD philosophy for the modern world or, maybe it is just a rant.

For some reason PD has been in the city's media this past week, both TV and radio (and probably the newspaper, which I only buy for the sports page and the crossword puzzle). One PWP runs, if I remember correctly, 3 miles a day with a 25 pound weight in a knap sack on his back. Makes me jealous as I have only just made it back to my pre-PD warm up of one mile, no weights, and extremely slow. However he is only 48, 20 years younger than I. He could face many more years of dealing with the condition or maybe there will be a cure in his lifetime. Either way, he will be in good, albeit shaky, condition when the end game arrives. I doubt there will be a cure in my lifetime but one never knows. Anyway, I learned there are only about 6,000 people who have PD in my province out of a population 1.2 million.

Until you put something into perspective, you never know if you are cursed with bad luck or blessed with good luck. At 1 of 6,000 PWP, out of 1.2 million other people, I think I have enough perspective to conclude my luck sucks as far as PD is concerned.

However, I still consider myself to be blessed; after all, it is really the only bad luck I have had in 67 years, touch wood.

Thus endith my rant.


Here are the statistics for last week.


  1. Canada 65
  2. Latvia 35
  3. United Kingdom 34
  4. United States 23
  5. Israel 13
  6. France 6
  7. India 5
  8. Ukraine 3
  9. Russia 2
  10. China 1

Total to date - 15,210 page views. Thank you.

Tuesday 13 August 2013

"I've got the brain of a four year old. I'll bet he was glad to be rid of it." Groucho Marx

I looked and behold a dark horse and he that sat on him was called parkinson's and dementia followed after.

Do I have to fear the possibility of dementia? The odds are against that little gem. As we grow older, we start to fear dementia, especially in the form of Alzheimer's. We worry when we deliberately enter a room and, once in it, we cannot remember why we are there. Don't stress. I am told that momentary loss of memory is not uncommon as we age. As a good friend once remarked - you don't have to worry if you can't remember where you just left your keys; you have to worry if you don't know what a key is used for.

It is estimated that later in life, PWP are at a 10 - 15% higher risk of dementia than people who have managed to avoid the condition. Pretty scary until you realize that less than a fifth of PWP will suffer from severe dementia in the later stages of PD. Most of us will not encounter the problem; we will remain sane most of the time and for those times in which we accidentally act crazy, we have a good, albeit false, excuse. So take this opportunity to place a lampshade on your head at your next party. People will laugh and might poke their neighbour and whisper "parkinson's" Take heart for as Albert Einstein once said:


A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy?

Tuesday 6 August 2013

Disappearing Ink

Thank God I took typing in school! My handwriting is becoming indecipherable. If I were to print the word "indecipherable" it would look something like this: Ideciphafsjfl. In other words, you would have great difficulty in reading the last few letters of the word. Apparently, I have lost all control. No matter what I tell myself, the muscles that control my fingers no longer have any allegiance to my brain and simply refuse to comply with its orders. The letters just start to disappear and, it can be a painful experience, both physically and mentally. Physically, it is the tenseness in my fingers that cause me problems. Mentally. Well, I used to have darn near perfect handwriting...enough said.

Strangely, my fingers co-operate when I am typing but sometimes they too try to sabotage me by hitting the same key 2 or more times while in a tremor.

Downright discouraging at times!

Will my handwriting ever return to normal? No chance. In fact it will probably get much worse. I have seen the writing on the wall. It is clear and succinct and it is no forgery.

Thursday 1 August 2013

Happy talkie talk, talkin' happy talk

Dysarthria is speech problem encountered by PWP. Symptoms include very quiet, soft speech and/or slow or incoherent speech. Since problems with the pitch and volume of speech are part of dysarthria, eventually speech becomes difficult to understand. The sufferer finds it hard to form the words that he wants to say. The result is pauses in the pattern of speech and the use of simple words, which are easier to find and express, along with simple sentence patterns to convey his thoughts.

Parkinson's attacks the speech muscles (called akinesia) causing them to weaken and become uncoordinated. Severity in PWP ranges from minor speech problems to incoherence. Unfortunately, estimates for PWP to have speech problems range from 60% - 90% and I am one of them! Seems odd because I have lived a charmed life and bad luck has always avoided me, until diagnosis about 3 years ago. However, I don't complain for three reasons (1) it won't help (2) my good luck has far exceeded my bad luck, and (3) nobody would be able to hear me anyway. So, I am learning to live with a speech impediment by remaining silent.

Silence is the safest course for anyone who distrusts their ability to speak.

Monday 29 July 2013

Statistics for July

Page view for the month of July

  • Canada 264
  • United Kingdom 192
  • United States 181
  • Russia 122
  • Latvia 28
  • Romania 12
  • Netherlands 5
  • Germany 4
  • Poland 4
  • Turkey 4


And that's only the top 10, several other countries dropped by in July, for a total of a little over 15,000 since the inception of the blog. Thank you all.

Nothing is quite so sure as change.

Went to the cottage this past weekend and did nothing of any consequence. I tried to watch "The Game Of Thrones". I had heard it was very good but during the 3rd episode, I fell asleep. I am not enamoured with the show but maybe the good parts happened while I napped. I will watch the remainder of season one and, if nothing else, I should get some good naps along the way. The rest of my time was spent editing my daughter-in-laws PhD thesis and thinking about changes that have happened in the 3 years since diagnosis.

When PD first struck me, it did so with a vengeance. The pain of a leg cramp with your foot curling in and up is beyond description and all that time, I had the embarrassment of a visible hand tremor. Medication seemed to put those symptoms to bed but they were quickly followed by an excess of saliva and a slurring of words. Both went away. Next came by one encounter with festination, a purely negative experience. It has not bothered me since and my neurologist told me it might never happen again. For the past few weeks, I have been shuffling along and now that seems to have corrected itself. All I am left with is difficulty speaking - losing my train of thought, stumbling over words or forgetting them completely. I am hoping for a change in that problem too.

The symptoms seem to come and go and I don't know why. All I know is things are bound to change over time and eventually, I may suffer some or all of the symptoms of PD or maybe some clever person will find a cure. I remain positive that there will be changes for the better, but every so often, the condition throws a wrench into the works and a little negativity creeps in to disrupt my sunny disposition.

In the words of W.H. Audwn, "We all have these places where shy humiliations gambol on sunny afternoons."

If you are a victim, you must remember to accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative and latch on to the affimative. Don't mess with Mr. In Between.

Thus endeth today's sermon.

Monday 22 July 2013

Radar can't locate a ninja.

I can no longer achieve my life-long goal of becoming a ninja. As a youngster, I wanted it all; well, except for the assassin part. Ninjas have an uncanny ability to sneak up on their enemies and slay them so quietly that their victims don't even know what killed them. I can remember practising the art of walking quietly, in stocking feet, using big steps, with my feet landing toe first to reduce the possibility of noise. Never did succeed but now it has become impossible. I have become acquainted with the shuffle. Not the ipod, the foot shuffle, especially my right foot. I have to consciously land heel first to avoid making any noise. An anomaly in the sidewalk presents a real challenge. However, life goes on and I am certain my pill regime will change with my next visit to the neuro; but, I can never again aspire to ninjaship.

Doesn't really matter. Black is not becoming on me.

Tuesday 16 July 2013

"In a clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade..."

I am a pugilist, in the ring with parkinson's. Exercise is in my corner but it is trying to convince me to throw in the towel. I want to yell, NO MAS, but, I don't. I keep on slugging away. I run and walk and lift weights and stretch; all in the belief that exercise will slow down PD until some genius can give me a technique to deliver the knock out punch. Until then, I know I won't defeat PD by exercising; but, maybe I can knock it to the mat every so often. However, the fact remains, for now the disease keeps on getting up before the count reaches 10 and is just going to continue to pummel me. I am pretty much defenceless.

It's like I am shadow boxing and the shadow keeps winning.

Even the great Ali, was beaten by PD.

Tuesday 9 July 2013

I need some distraction

Bob Dylan wrote: "Something is happening, but you don't know what it is, do you Mr. Jones?". Buffalo Springfield sang: "There's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear". Pretty similar, don't you think?

Coincidence? Who knows? Who cares? The songs just popped into my head because there is something happening here, with me, but it is disappointingly clear. You see, I am a little light-headed and I am having trouble maneuvering around corners and things on the floor. I haven't come close to falling, but I do tend to pull in one direction - ie - to my right, like a car whose wheels need to be balanced. It is PD raising its sad, ugly head. Oh well, I am certain this symptom will come and go just like all the others have. It is a real roller coaster ride.

To feel better, I went to the lake for the weekend and walked for an hour each day. For those readers in far off lands, who have never seen or heard of our inland sea, here are some details. It is the 11th largest lake in the world but unfortunately, it is number one on the world's endangered lakes list. It is not polluted yet and probably never will be, as some dedicated people are raising awareness and taking steps to reduce the amount of nutrients, running off of farm land and pouring into the lake. In the meantime, it is a popular recreation destination and supports a large fishery. For me, it is my distraction, my sanctum sanctorum, in the strictly secular sense of the word, especially at 5 in the morning when I am walking all alone. I mean, who else goes out at that time of the day? The walk and isolation relax me and for a few hours I can forget about symptoms. Forgetting is becoming my opiate. It allows me to wallow in oblivion and maintain my sanity. That's a good thing folks. Here's to conscious unconsciousness.


The Lake

Thursday 4 July 2013

"Jogging is good for the ground. It makes it feel needed"*

I have taken up running 3 or 4 times a week and I hate every step. I always have despised running, yet I ran obsessively, 4 or 5 time per week, for more than 30 years before the onset of my dark passenger - PD. I even held a provincial record in the one mile race walk (an odd form of slow running) when I was 46. Held it for one year until some university student from Saskatchewan shattered it by an enormous margin.

When I was diagnosed, I decided to lay off running on the off chance that I might fall. It was a good excuse to avoid it. However, I started to gain weight - not much, but when I ran, I could always eat whatever I wanted without repercussion, and so I started running again a couple of months ago and bingo, I was afraid of falling and did fall once. To counteract the force of gravity trying to pull my torso forward and down, I adopted the style of that great American 400m runner Michael Johnson. I have to physically keep my body stiff at a right angle to the ground. I look ridiculous, but I have lost some weight. Things are looking up.

I was on a PD forum recently when a member mentioned he was regularly running to build strong leg muscles to help prevent falls. Another member responded that the falling problem wasn't due to weak legs; the problem was in his brain and no matter how strong his leg muscles were, they wouldn't stop him from falling if his brain decided otherwise (a precis of the conversation but you get the drift). Sad, but true, our brains are deteriorating and we are slowly losing control. Fortunately, drugs can control the symptoms and the future does not look too bleak. Therefore run, if you will, get strong legs, can't hurt, but it won't prevent a fall; but, exercise, including running, seems to slow the progression of the condition. So, I will continue my Michael Johnson imitation (running at 100th of his speed) until I can no longer run or somebody sees me and starts laughing.

On the upside, at least I will lose more weight.

After thought - I am fairly certain a buckled sidewalk caused my fall, not PD.



*based on a Charles Schulz quote.

Monday 1 July 2013

I'm so dry

I think I must be living about a mile from the sun in the Sahara Desert. For one thing, it is hot, I think around 30C. When people on the prairies complain about the heat, others around them reply with "Yes, but it is a dry heat", like some liturgical responsive reading. I don't know what their definition of "dry" is, because it rained for what seemed like all of June and yet there is a lingering, desert-like dryness in my mouth.

Yes, it's true. today's sermon is entitled "What's up with my dry mouth?" Right now, my lips feel like leather and no amount of licking or using that lip gloss stuff helps at all and, what moisture there is, completely disappears when I have to do any serious talking. You can imagine the embarrassment! You are talking to someone who is about to spend a million dollars on something and you are constantly licking your lips. He must be thinking Either that guy really likes me or he can't stop thinking about his fee No such luck mate. You're not my type and I should have charged you more. I'm just a guy with a mouth full of nothing and wondering if he should get another glass of water, or a coke or maybe even a glass of wine, un verre de vin. Voila! Une solution possible.

To get serious folks, apparently some PD medications can cause dry mouth. If you are a sufferer, here are some tips

  • Drink eight or more cups of liquid each day. A friend told me 8 cups of water wouldn't cause me to urinate more often. If he is reading this, "You were wrong on that count pal".
  • Limit caffeine. Drat! There goes my Coke.
  • Dunk your cookies in milk, tea, etc. Get them moist. Probably good advice that I won't follow.
  • Limit alcohol intake and don't use a commercial mouthwash. They usually contain alcohol. Alcohol can dry your mouth. Just remember, with honesty and no regrets, the morning after your youthful indiscretions the evening before, waking up parched and begging for water.
  • Use artificial saliva. In Canada, it is available across the counter but you have to ask the pharmacist for it. Get the liquid spray form because the gel is somewhat gross.

I guess I will have another glass of water.

Thursday 27 June 2013

He's Here.........!

1982. Remember being a little shook up by the movie "Poltergeist"? (Poltergeist: "a mischievous ghost" which, in the movie, was a little more than mischievous). Well I think there is one in my bedroom. Twice now I have been wakened by kicks to my back, once with a poke in the neck and recently, I was jabbed in both sides simultaneously. Poltergeist? Maybe. But that would make me move out of my house. Instead, I blame it on PD (as I do every ache or pain that comes along). It might be a defence mechanism ("defense" to our cousins south of us), but I think not. I think it is similar to the myoclonic spasms that usually occur as I am falling asleep.

I find it odd that these things only happen at night but then, it is easier not to believe in poltergeists in the daylight. Is it a ghost? Naw, that's just my imagination. It is only another onslaught by my uncomfortable enemy, PD.

Anyway, that's my explanation and I am sticking to it!

Tuesday 25 June 2013

Let's hear it for the USA and Michael J.

I was at a junior high basketball game some years ago and the crowd was chanting "All right, all right, all right, let's go". It was quite the thing to hear and it really got to the opposition, leading to a hometown win.

So, Michael J., you good ol' Canadian boy, all right, all right, all right, let's go. With funding from Michael's foundation, an American drug company has invented a Levodopa inhaler that will really help those who suffer from on/off problems.

I was asked recently if I would go to the USA for amantadine (there is a shortage here). Having done so in the past (unrelated to PD), I, of course, answered in the affirmative. Let me assure you that if I ever do suffer from wearing off, and the inhaler is not approved by Canadian authorities, I will be in Grand Forks, North Dakota, with bells on, whatever the cost. Their health system might be way more expensive than ours, but it seems to me that most innovations come from the States (sometimes with the help of a good ol' boy from Canada).

The American politician, Mike Ferguson, once said, "America's doctors, nurses and medical researchers are the best in the world, but our health care system is broken." Broken? Maybe, but right or wrong, I ,for one, am glad Grand Forks, ND, is only 150 miles south of us.

Monday 24 June 2013

I'd rather there was a surplus

Somebody (I don't know who)once said words to the effect that if the government were put in charge of the Sahara Desert, within 5 years there would be a shortage of sand.

Well guess what! My amantadine prescription needed refilling but my wife was told by the pharmacy they only had 87 tablets (I take 4/day) and wouldn't get anymore until September because there was a shortage. Now I believe that amantadine, that much maligned drug, is the reason my right hand has ceased to have a life of its own, over which I have no control. Without amantadine, I would be a mess. I needed 252 of those little life savers to make it to September and they only had 87 and said other pharmacies were in the same spot. I wouldn't even make through July. Fortunately my wife has my back and managed to scrounge up another 199 and so we are set for the time being. I can make it to September, but what happens if come September the shortage has not been resolved. Well there is always L-dopa, but for some reason, I want to stay on amantadine and mirapex for as long as I am able.

Mark Twain once said "When you are angry, count to four, when very angry, swear". Well shit, I don't know who is responsible for the shortage (when in doubt blame the government)but get off your asses and get it done.

Friday 21 June 2013

Parkinson's - the quaint designer disease.

(Thursday) If I make it through the night, I will turn 67 in the morning. I have no problem with that because for the past year I have been telling people I was 67 when all along I was only 66; therefore, I have gained a year. Oh, I may have occasionally told someone I was 66, but that would have been rare.

Memory problems are a part of parkinson's but fortunately, I don't really have a real problem with my memory. Now stupidity. Well that's another matter all together.

(Friday) Whew, I made it. I am now officially 67 for the second year in a row and I am already exhausted (it is 8:13am). I woke up at 4AM today, did some work - no exercise today - took my mother to the hospital and now I am back at my desk, ready for bed. It is the parkinson's - it is making me ache for a nap. Slumber! An extended period of dormancy or even hibernation. That is what I need. So I will be off to the cottage for 3 days, living a hermit's life. You get the picture.

PD is called a designer disease because it affects everyone differently. It can cause tremor or no tremor; it can affect one side only or maybe ravage both; it can progress rapidly or maybe slowly; it might cause exhaustion or maybe a just little tiredness, etc, etc. Well here is my design (so far)

  • Mind numbing exhaustion at certain times of the day, usually between 1pm and 4pm. It disappears and reappears around 8pm
  • Tremor dominant - this is thought to be the most benign form of PD and is, for me, easily controlled by drugs
  • Affects, to date, only my right side
  • slows me down
  • affects my speech and word recall abilities, especially when in public or under stress
  • appears to be progressing slowly (touch wood)

All-in-all, I am not bad off for a 67 year old victim, or is that 68 years old? I forget.

Sunday 16 June 2013

“I had to stop driving my car for a while... the tires got dizzy.” (Sephen Wright)

I get foggy and a little dizzy later in the day. That is my cue to take a nap. Even after 10 or 15 minutes, I can awake feeling relatively relaxed. That was the good news. The bad news is the tendency to nod off is getting worse. Watching TV. In the bathtub (where I have ruined a book that landed in the water when I entered my short hibernation). And sitting in a chair. Part of the problem is my seemingly inability to sleep past 4:30 AM again. So, this weekend, my wife and I isolated ourselves at the cottage. Here, I hoped, I would be totally relaxed and would sleep past my "normal" time.

No such luck. Nope, 4:30 arrived and I was, furiously, wide awake. What to do? What to do?

I decided to get up, do my stretches and go for a walk.

Now, except for a couple of little incidents back in the winter, a walk is not difficult for me. Today, however, I felt a little dizzy and I realized I was bent at the waist. I forced myself to walk like I had a rod up my butt, but that only lasted as long as I concentrated on doing so. At last, shaken by what appeared to be a new symptom, I needed to sit down. I needed to relax. I chose a bench overlooking the lake.

The morning was warm and the sun was rising out of the horizon. The lake was perfectly calm and as I sat there, I too calmed down, accepted my fate, arose from the bench, stuck that proverbial rod where the sun don't shine and completed my walk.

When I reached the cabin, I cheered myself up by watching an episode of season 3 of "Pretty Little Liars". I would tell you what it was about, but sadly, I fell asleep.

(keep scrolling down)


The lake at 5AM

More PD Blogs

Here are a couple of more blogs I follow:

  1. Wearing Off - by Chris et al. Chris also used to have an excellent forum, but it suddenly disappeared into the ether
  2. The Jelly Chronicles Wobbling through life with parkinsons

Thursday 13 June 2013

Cramping my style

Here is the situation; but before I continue let me observe that while a woman may well suffer pain stoically, I am a male and dammit, I am here to complain.

While walking along in downtown Winnipeg, avoiding all the strange people who haunt the streets of our city, my right leg began to cramp. Initially, I ignored it but it got worse until I was forced to limp. AND, let me tell you, IT HURT. IT HURT LIKE HELL! I am beginning to take a disliking to the pains of PD, insistent as they are. Notice it was my right leg, which figures; the "disease" has only affected my right side, with short, manageable forays into my left. Anyway, I finished my business, went home and soaked in a hot bath. The problem subsided and at the moment, I am living happily ever after, watching TV, drinking a coke, hoping to hear the last of the Kardashians and thanking the gods that I am not equipped to have a baby.

Tuesday 11 June 2013

Feelin' Groovy

If you don't count the exhaustion, today is one of those days where I feel good. Up at 5, one mile run, 2 mile walk/run. It is getting easier. At my desk by 6:30. Got my work done by 9:15. Even took my medication on time! Of course, I still feel tired but that is the only symptom at the moment (here I touch wood for luck). It is a different feeling. Yesterday, I felt wobbly (again) and getting up from the couch was not easy. Total opposite today. What a strange condition! Here today, gone tomorrow, but always there, lurking.

Well anyway, today I got no deeds to do, no promises to keep. I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep........ That is just what I intend to do today, right after a couple of more hours of work.

I am grateful people read this blog. Knowing I have readers helps the healing. Here are some statistics on my catharsis:

Page Views Last 7 Days
  • United States 88
  • Canada 66
  • United Kingdom 33
  • Latvia 19
  • Japan 9
  • Russia 7
  • Netherlands 4
  • France 3
  • Germany 1
Page Views to Date - 13,391. Thank you

Wednesday 5 June 2013

All I have to do is dreeeaaaeemmm. Dream dream dream....

I had another one of those virtual, technicolor dreams that PD is famous for (or maybe it's the medication - don't know; don't care).

In this one, a threatening man entered our bedroom and came toward me. In my dream, and at the same time, in real life, I awoke, sat up and started swinging wildly. Like an out-of-control windmill. Then I realized it was only a dream and I said aloud, as I laid my body down, "This is crazy. I am going nuts!" and just to prove I was correct in that assessment of myself, I got hooked on the TV show (Netflix), "Revenge", that can only be described as a soap opera for the slightly demented. Fourteen episodes so far and I see there is a second season. Help me!

Tuesday 4 June 2013

Take these wobbly bones....

Definition of "Wobbly"
/ˈwäb(ə)lē/
Noun or Adjective

Wobbly (n): A member of the once-powerful syndicalist union, the Industrial Workers of the World. They are in favour of revolutionary unionism and see authoritarian control (such as bosses and politicians) as oppressive. Many wobblies subscribe to some form of anarchism.

Whoops! wrong definition; although, having read it, it is rather enticing - except for the anarchism part. No, this is the definition I am looking for:

Wobbly(adj) Tending to move unsteadily from side to side.
Weak and unsteady from illness, tiredness, or anxiety.

I went to the cottage this weekend, for a little R & R, avoidance of stress - just what the doctor should order for PWP. Had a great time with my wife, daughter and granddaughter. All seemed well - until I tried to arise from a sofa or chair. I would have to take two or three tries, falling back each time until successful and then, once standing, I wabbled. As the weekend progressed, I progressed to wabbling while walking, especially if taking a corner. Today, I am still wabbling, but it has diminished. I guess this another of PD's little joys, another example of God's sense of humour.

I am getting tired of laughing.

Thursday 30 May 2013

Happiness is a warm run.

I received some inspirational words from a reader in Oregon and so I decided to run further today. Now keep in mind that this is only my third run and, even though the cherry blossoms are in bloom and everything is green, the weather here stinks. Over the next 3 days temperatures will range in the 5C to 14C (approx 40F to 58F), so my run would have been miserable except that the rain gods held off and the temperature temporarily rose to 15C (approx 60F), still not warm but it beats being cold and wet.

So, off I went and did the first .6 miles fairly easily but my lungs were burning and felt the force pulling me forward and down. Over the next 2.4 miles, I took it easy - one block walk followed by a 3 block run, etc. I actually felt like I had accomplished something. I may even be in better shape now than BPD (before PD). I am going to keep at it until I am able to run the entire 3 miles without falling or having a lung collapse. Call me a loon; I still hate running, but at least now I have a mission objective and I will accomplish it, or die trying. Hell, I will do anything to slow down the progression of PD and right now, vigorous exercise tops the list of my strategies.

My thanks to J of Grey Co----- for her inspirational email. Sixteen years into PD and J of Grey is still active at 67 with symptoms that are barely noticeable. She credits her drugs and her regular exercise.

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do.
So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore. Dream. Discover."

Mark Twain's philosophy can, and should, apply to all people with PD. We are not under a death sentence. The condition is manageable and we don't want to leave life with any regrets. So get up off your sofa and exercise. It's like chicken soup for a cold - might not help, but it can't hurt.

I will keep on keeping on,still hating running (actually "jogging" is a better word or more accurately "very slow jogging") but I will hate it less in the dog days of summer and particularly in the tropical warmth of South Miami Beach next winter.

Tuesday 28 May 2013

The Parkie Preakness

I summoned all my courage at 4:30AM. What the heck? Can't sleep! Turn on the weather channel. 15C. Not exactly tropical, but pleasant for this time of day. Maybe I will try running again. I have to think about that for a bit. I do my stretches, get back into bed, try to sleep. Not going to happen. Might as well run....unless it is raining....I look out the window. No such luck. The sky is gray and gloomy, but it is not raining. No excuses. I don my running gear and head outside with my ipod blasting music into my noggin. Start walking. At the end of the block, George Thorogood and the Destroyers - Johnny B. Goode - kick me into high gear. I begin to run. As I approach the mile mark, I find myself having to resist the pull of my body forward and downward by some unknown force. I fight it and remain rigidly upright. In the end, I get in about 1.50 miles with a cool down of a 1.50 mile walk. Not bad. Not too shabby at all! I feel good, like I have beaten PD back a step or two.

I absented myself to the beach for two days of relaxation and meditation. It is too cool to do anything but watch movies and take the occasional walk. Here it is, May 25, and the ice is still on the lake. This is most unusual. Businesses are suffering and the town looks abandoned. Oh well! I came here to get away from the office and relax. Five movies later and I couldn't possibly be more relaxed. No stress and, as I have said before, exercise and an avoidance of stress are the only known (or maybe "accepted" is a better word) ways of slowing the progression of PD. I accomplish both at the cottage.

I, and I am sure all PWP, am really looking forward to Michael J. Foxe's new show (trailer) It is good that we can laugh at ourselves.



Lake Winnipeg, May 25, 2013