“Middle age, I guess it’s time to fall apart," she mused. She was painfully aware of the discomfort and limp. Her right foot didn’t seem to roll when she walked. It flopped down with each step. Sometimes she would forget about it, then the splat that foot made would bring it back to her attention. The pain in the bottom of her foot could be causing it, but that pain had been there for several years. The big toe would cramp and cross over the other toes. Was this the cause? This was all too strange to even talk about! She had also become aware of her right arm. It had stopped swinging when she walked. Instead it hung slightly cupped and stiff. It just didn’t move like the other arm did. “Everything happens to my right side," she thought.

The thumb on the right hand had begun to quiver. Was it from the cut she had suffered on her wrist? The doctor had said there might be some nerve damage. He said not to worry and they would just watch it for a while. Then her hand began to shake to the point that others noticed. It was becoming annoying. There was always that question, “Why are you so nervous?” Even close friends began to ask why she was so nervous. There was no reason for it. It did seem a glass of wine would stop it. This seemed a bit strange. Even just moving it or concentrating would stop it! The time had come to find the causes for all these odd behaviors. She needed to know......

The results of the tests were in. She was calm, knowing it couldn’t be serious. “The MRI shows no abnormalities.” What a relief for that, she thought! The doctor didn’t give her a diagnosis. Instead he stated. “I don’t want to label you. We will just keep track of the progression of you symptoms for a while.”Almost every question was answered with, “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

His attitude just created a feeling of anxiety and concern. She knew she could deal with the problem if she just knew what it was! So she started her research in the local library. There was one book that mirrored her complaints, even so she felt this condition couldn’t possibly be hers. This book had been written by a doctor who seemed to have had the same symptoms. Surely this would not have the same outcome. The information was enough to make her search for a doctor that would make a quick diagnosis and give medical care that would stop all these strange things that were happening to her. It would probably be a matter of some minor surgery to the damaged nerves to her hand. Perhaps bunion surgery or some minor foot surgery would take care of the foot. The orthopedic shoe inserts weren’t helping much. “I will be some silly, simple remedy that will put all this right!” she repeated to her daughter.

She found a good neurologist who specialized in the disease her symptoms mimicked. Hopefully he would prove she was fearful for unfounded reasons. He would be the one that would know where to send her for the simple problems she undoubtedly had. Besides this would prove to herself there was no link to her symptoms and the ones in the book. She would find the reasons for these “quirks," and be able to either remedy them or live with it. She needed to know!

As she sat in the waiting room, she noticed an older man reading a magazine. He appeared very nervous. As he read a magazine he began to shake. You could hear the pages vibrate. He caught her gaze and immediately put down the magazine. His thumb quivered and it wouldn’t stop. The reality was; it was just like hers. She tried to put it out of her mind. The gentleman self consciously sat on his hands. She bowed her head and one tear rolled down her cheek.

This doctor was very calm and soft spoken as he went over all the tests. He assured her he would tell her his diagnosis and not let days go by. He tested her reflexes, posture and flexibility. He even tried to pull her off balance. This was reassuring, as everything went well. She seemed to meet all of his tests. She was a little pleased that she had done well. As she sat in front of this young doctor she studied his face hoping to read his thoughts. His gaze was direct and she could read by his manner the news wasn’t good like she had begun to expect. He quietly and without hesitation said the thing she had tried to ignore and prayed not to hear. “You have Parkinson’s disease," he said.

The room went silent as though a huge door had slammed shut, and she knew a door had. She felt like a lost child on a carousel spinning to nowhere. No one to save her, she whirled round and round. Reality returned quickly and these were the words that blared in her ears and consumed the silence, “Why me? Why me? Oh God why me?”, she wept. The carousel slowed and the answer was clear. “Why not? Why not? Why not you?”, the voice whispered.This answer satisfied her and she hasn’t questioned it since.

Author Unknown








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