I am Parkinson's Disease

I am Parkinson’s Disease. I am insidious, but I am subtle. I am devastating, but I sometimes play the part of an old friend – or at least a not-as-bad-as-it-could-be acquaintance. I attack, I cripple, and I render helpless. I can take the most graceful man and turn him -- and you -- into a drooling, stammering idiot.

Because I work slowly and methodically, I trick you into thinking that it’s not so bad, that you can deal with it and that you can take me on. Remember the first time you fell? Remember the first time you opened your mouth to speak and nothing came out? Have you forgotten already? Brace yourself. I’m just getting started.

My effects are far reaching. It’s not just the physical aspects of motion and movement. It’s cognitive, too. Besides the obvious calamities such as loss of confidence, questioning of faith, and worries about the future, I derail the brain. Things that you used to be good at – problem-solving, organizing, planning – have been left by the roadside like a possum that was hit by four cars in morning rush hour traffic.

I rip apart your pocketbook. Medicinal costs can be devastating, yes, but that’s just a red herring. It’s worse than that. Everything you saved for a comfortable retirement is disappearing because I pulled your job out from under your feet.

You have to sleep, rest, and wake up hoping that this has all been a bad dream. I don’t sleep. I’m always on the prowl, pillaging wherever I can. I move slowly, hoping you’ll forget about me. Then, when you finally do remember that I’m around, you find that I’ve already eroded your physical and mental skills even more.

I killed your grandmother. She led a valiant battle. Remember how graceful she had been? Do you remember her laugh? How long before she died did you last hear her laughter? Yes, it was I who stole it from her.

I’m going to kill you too. Your last stronghold – your writing – is going to wither. It’s already started. You don’t quite remember what you wrote yesterday as thoroughly as you used to. You have to spend more time back-tracking and thinking about what you were doing earlier. It’s harder to organize your train of thought. Yep, I’ve got a stranglehold on you (baby).

You’ve noticed that it’s harder to drive, it’s harder to walk. It’s harder to stay ON – so it’s harder to do anything at all. Remember your love of tennis? Hahaha, that’s a distant memory. Football in the backyard? Oh, I know you’re still trying. You aren’t doing well though. I know, you’re telling me that you’re getting older anyway. You’re only 50. You should still be able to play a decent game of one-on-one on the basketball court. Instead, you fall, you trip, you stumble, and you embarrass yourself.

You haven’t given up yet, but I’m gonna make you. I’m taking you down, fella.

I’m going to shatter your self-confidence. I’m going to dissolve your resolve. I’m going to wipe you out. It’s just a matter of time.

I see in your eyes that you still have hope. Dream on. I will break you.

Dear Parkinson's Disease (a Response to "I am Parkinson's Disease")

Keeping the Right Attitude with Parkinson's Disease

Parkinson's Disease and Cognitive Impairment

Parkinson's Disease and the CERE-120 Clinical Trial

Parkinson's Disease and Grocery Shopping (a Humorous Look)

Parkinson's Disease and Racquetball