In Vino Veritas

We went out for a fabulous meal at an old friend's home. We hadn't got together since I had been diagnosed. Of course, I had wine, several glassfuls. Well, at least half a bottle. Now in the past, wine usually caused two things to happen to me (a) fall asleep rather quickly and (b) make two or three trips to the bathroom at night. That night however, I found it impossible to do two things (a) get to sleep at all (b) empty my bladder. Is it a coincidence that I have PD, take two new drugs, and when I indulge (or over indulge) in wine, I have bad insomnia and the polar opposite of incontinence?

I think not.

I enjoyed lying awake and listening to my satellite radio without having to take a bathroom break.

Pass the Asti Spumanti please.

The fog comes on little cat feet

A fog has settled over the city. It is not the type of fog I experienced when I lived in England, fog so dense you could barely see your hand in front of your face. This fog is not that bad, but it is denser than I have seen in a long time.

It mirrors the fog that sometimes stealthily sneaks into my brain as a result of PD. It is not that I lack anything, I can still do the crosswords, square numbers in my head, etc, - all the things I could always do but now, I am a little slower. I think that is a good adjective for PD - it slows you down. Fortunately, you can work around it and when you recognize it happening (it comes and goes, depending on the drug cycle), you can take steps to surmount it - at least I can at the stage I am in now.

It is said that one reason Hitler lost the war was he was suffering from PD that slowed down his thought processes. Could be, but probably the fact he was a homicidal megalomaniac surrounded by groupies was a greater factor.

Unlike Sandburg's fog, the fog over the city has yet to move on.

By the pricking of my thumbs.......

something wicked this way comes.

I was awakened at 3:30AM by a short spasm. It was not a bad one, but just bad enough that it woke me and I could not get back to sleep. As I lay there, my right hand started to twitch. My brain calmly told me,"take your drugs, idiot". But, I was relaxed and didn't want to get up, so gradually my pointing finger began to drum on the pillow and the twitch turned into a tremor. I arose and took the drugs. They do not bring immediate relief, so I decided to go for a walk (which usually calms the tremor). Sadly, the tremor remained for a good half hour until it finally stopped - a combination of the drugs and exercise working together to fool my brain.

This was the first time the tremor was bad in the morning. I have a feeling I will have to increase the dosage of the mirapex I am taking. Is this a foreshadowing of my future? Taking more and more drugs until they stop working altogether? Probably. Let's face it, there is nothing I can do about it so I might as well relax, but I am not looking forward to the evil that is PD.

Football & that old parkie feeling

Exciting football game last evening. The Bombers scored with less than a minute left to take the lead. They held on and won 26 - 25. It should have been a joyous occasion. Unfortunately, the stress of watching the game brought on an internal tremor in my right arm. I tried to ignore it but it eventually blossomed into a full blown right hand tremor. Combine that with familiar twitches in my left leg and you can see why I got upset. I sought refuge in sleep and by 8PM was sound asleep. I awoke at 4:30, took my medication, and went for an hour long walk. As I type this blog, it is 8:13AM and there is no sign of internal or external tremor (touch wood).

Those "myoclonic spasms" I have been experiencing arrive more often and with more force than ever before. I was awakened in the night twice. The first time, my arm seemed to jump off the bed and the second time, my leg did too. They are not high jumps, they just feel like momentary springings a few mm into the air. I don't think these are myoclonic spasms; rather, I think they are symptoms. Such is the joy of PD.

I have got to quit watching football games.

“The future is no place to place your better days.”

I have seen better days. The problem is not the present and only to some extent is it the future. It is the past. On my walk I got to thinking about the things I could do in the past which will be denied me in the future. Running fast enough that you create a breeze, swimming a mile, being able to stand upright, a steady hand, a feeling of well being - all just examples of what I am talking about.

Do I sound depressed? I am not. Even without PD, most things I could do in the past would not be available to me in the future. With PD, I may reach the "inability point" earlier than my healthy friends, but either way, we all get to it sooner or later.

I shall try to concentrate on the present and not project my degrees of wellness, or lack thereof, into the future.

I found out that if I don't take my medication at specific intervals (every 4 hours), I come to regret it. Yesterday, I forgot one dose and the result this morning was, on my early walk, my right hand attempting to do a solo merengue. Fortunately, after 20 minutes or so of walking, my hand calmed down and went back to normal. That felt better. Normal is good. Abnormal is just a state of mind. I will stick with feeling normal.

To quote Voltaire, "life is a shipwreck but we must not forget to sing in the life boats".

To study the abnormal is the best way of understanding the normal.

Feeling normal today. No shakes, normal amount of saliva, no cramping, relatively alert. Feels good! How long will it last?

Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. (H. L. Mencken)

You don't need a weather man to know which way the wind blows

I think I am getting mad cow disease. Yesterday, I forgot to take my medicine - twice. The inevitable happened. My tremor returned in my right hand. It was a weak tremor but a tremor nonetheless. Then, as I should have expected, I had a nocturnal visit from the beast. My right leg shot straight out and my calf muscle knotted itself into what felt like a sheep shank knot. The foot joined in the circus and I was forced to stand up - thinking I had better set an alarm on my cell phone to let me know when to take the medicine. And I will - as soon as I figure out how to do it.

Thinking about cell phones made me wonder what superman will do now that there are no phone booths.....