<h1>Another rim shot.</h1>

"It is a curious fact that people are never so trivial as when they take themselves seriously." (Oscar Wilde)

I don't know anything about humour and Parkinson's, other than what I find on the internet. Initially I thought I was using my blog as a method of reaching the masses. I was preaching because I thought I was knowledgeable and wanted give my PWP a little comfort. But, when in a moment of clarity, I came to the conclusion that anything I write about is only valuable to me.

I have PD. There is no denying that. I wish I didn't have it. I hope for a cure. I am confident I will be dead before PD consumes me completely (which is small comfort). I try not to take myself seriously when I write. There is nothing funny about PD!! Instead, I try to lighten our load with the use humour when dispensing my somewhat limited knowledge. I describe my symptoms of PD to tell the world of my diagnosis, rather than keeping it a secret as some PWP recommend. However, I mean no offence to those who are experiencing the shadow of the "disease". I hope readers of this blog will understand that I am using whatever sense of humour I have, as a weapon in my fight against the darkness of parkinson's.

But, enough talk about humour.I want to know everything about PD. Why? So I can estimate my progress. I have a tendency toward self-diagnosis so I need info. When I talk to my current neurologist.....well, I get very little from him and my family doctor is a little better, slightly informative. But the internet! Now theres a source of information. I want to know to what stage my PD has advanced. Here I go again into self-diagnosis. As you see, my neuro is not a useful source..

The Play: Finding information from the doctors. Specifically , at what stage is the patient?

The scene: In a mid size city, in a doctor's office. The doctor sits at his desk, glancing occasionally at the ever-present large screen computer.

He speaks. How are you today.

The patient returns the smile and says softly: I am OK

Doctor: That's good. Stand up. and he checks me out. As we exchange pleasantries, he speaks in a manner as to imply the session is finished. Looking good.

He sits down and he writes out a prescription for stronger levodopa, all the while looking at his computer. He types something, his fingers moving furiously and only the clicking of the keys break the silence that has fallen upon them. He finishes, rolls his chair back and looks at the screen for a few seconds. OK, looking fairly good. See me in 6 months. Have a good day.

Patient leaves the office and is muttering under his breath as he goes to the front desk. That's it? Have a good day?..... No thanks, I've made other plans..... What about stages? Tell me. I know no more than I did yesterday. Why didn't I outright as about the stages. I need to know where I am in the catalogue of woes.

Patient is at home. Patient knows why he didn't ask. Stage fright, that's why.Goes to the computer, finds WebMD to look at the stage descriptions and sees himself, in black and white

Stage one: During this initial phase of the disease, a person usually experiences mild symptoms, such as tremors or shaking in a limb. During this stage, friends and family can usually detect changes caused by Parkinson's, such as poor posture, loss of balance, and abnormal facial expressions.

Stage two: In the second stage of Parkinson's disease, the person's symptoms are bilateral, affecting both limbs and both sides of the body. The person usually encounters problems walking or maintaining balance, and the inability to complete normal physical tasks becomes more apparent.

Patient sighs and mumbles, that's better, I will sleep tonight, He is at the end of stage one or the early two. Great. Thanks WebMD. He has an answer. Patient leaves the room with his right hand trembling at the victory.

I guess you know the patient was me! The doctor is not quite as I have described him, but not far off. Ergo, I submit to the internet as the purveyor of the truth, I diagnose myself as being at the end of stage one or early stage two.

Well, that's a relief! Now I will sleep better tonight....except I don't....because, you know, some of my symptoms can be found in stage three.

I fall into a restless sleep. In the darkness of my room, my fear of the future has been neutered for now. At this moment, I really don't give a s--t.