The Journey of a Lifetime From The Peak of Fitness to Parkinson's in Six Months The first 2 months 'Not far to go now' I think to myself, as my legs pound the road, running mile after mile. 'You've already done the hard part, the first ten miles are always the worst' I tell myself. Sometimes I even amaze myself at just how good I am at this running game. Like a robot, I just keep going. 48 years old and I can run the legs off any 18 year old. Oh no, I fall again; my hands and knees skinned, I drag myself back to my feet. Picking the stones out of my skin, trying to look unshaken I hobble off home. I'm getting really careless, I must pay more attention. 'What on earth have you done' my wife asks as I walk in the house panting and blooded. 'Ridiculous' she says, and tells me I can't go on falling every day. 'You are going to the Dr'. Reluctantly I agree. It's Christmas week, so I arrange an appointment with my GP for after the New Year. So, in early January I see my GP. After I finish telling him about my carelessness and how I keep falling. He said to me 'Do you like music' 'yes' I said. 'OK just tap out a rhythm on my desk with both hands' he said. 'I did, or rather I didn't, I just couldn't get both hands to work together. No matter how hard I tried they just didn't keep the beat. After a few more tests he declared 'Your going to see a neurologist', but don't worry. 'That's easy to say' I told him. You see I have a Master in neuroscience, so I know what's what. I know what's wrong with me!, I've got a brain tumour; no I've had a stroke. What I didn't have wasn't worth having. By the time the letter came from the hospital I had every neurological ailment possible. I opened the letter and things just got worse, sixteen weeks before I even get an appointment. I couldn't bear the thought of waiting 5 or 6 months just to get seen, but that's the NHS for you, what could I do. One day a week or so later another letter arrives, from a private hospital this time. It turns out my children had got the money together for me to see a private neurologist. I was so moved I could barely speak, I just cried and cried and cried, I couldn't stop crying. I had been feeling increasingly emotional, but lately all I did was cry, I'd cry watching the news or seeing an ambulance go by. (There must have been some one hurt you see). I went to the hospital by myself, I wanted it that way, I'm brave aren't I, still a man. Twenty minutes after going into the neuro's office I'm finishing getting dressed. As I bend to tie my laces, he said to me, ' well David, there is no doubt you have Parkinson's disease'. It took me four or five minutes to get up from tying my laces, I was sobbing like a baby. 'Oh don't worry about the tears, that can be one of the symptoms', what a great comfort that was. 'I'll send a report to your GP. You can pay the nurse on the way out, good-bye' Bang, the office door shut behind me and I was alone with my Pd for the first time! Months 3 and 4 to follow: Top of Page |
