"ADVERSITY HAPPENS"

    My thoughts after reading the New Yorker's article on Parkinson's Disease, April 28, 2014,  "Have You lost Your Mind?" ---

Apparently, many people who have PD are ashamed and/or embarrassed about the diagnosis.   Do they see it as a personal failure?   Or, maybe a defect?

My personal attitude is that 

1) it's not a personal failure - because, as far as I know, I had nothing to do with acquiring it,

2) and yes, it's a defect.  So What?  Does that make me "bad" or "undesirable"?     No way!

I've had a lot of personal success over the past 60 years, creating a strong self-image  (good news) - but, also strong enough to foster an un-healthy level of pride and independence (bad news -  too much of anything can become a negative, IMHO.)

Actually, I want people to know that I have PD.  I want people to know 'why' I look and respond the way I do.  Most of the time I'm smiling inside - something  desperately lacking in my demeanor.  (I've tried to notify my face, but unfortunately it doesn't respond to my mental commands  very well.) 

Because I had DBS surgery, My Parkinson's tremor is gone -- however, my speech has been extremely impacted.  I recently made a calling card to help break the ice with strangers:  

Today, at age 63, Parkinson's is not a 'career buster' for me, but rather a journey to a new place - mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually. 

Fortunately, my diagnosis came at a time in my life when my vocation was morphing into a technological rat race.  I had been pleased with my accomplishments by age 55, but not necessarily excited about chasing the learning curve of the tech/video future.    (Maybe that apathy was a non-motor symptom of PD -- undetected at the time)   I was ready for a change - but not necessarily Parkinson's

Now, mind you, I'm not a stranger to change - having lived in numerous locations from:

               Philadelphia to Anchorage,   New York City to Detroit,

               North Hollywood to Modesto,  Sacramento and Yuba City, CA.  

Currently residing in North San Diego County, in retirement, I look back at the many hats I've worn since the 1960's: 

o   professional musician, magician/entertainer;  laborer/carpenter on the Alaska Pipeline;

o   construction superintendant;  racquetball and fitness club manager/owner; 

o   roller skating rink owner/operator;  Independent Business Owner with Amway Global; 

o   professional videographer  and audiovisual contractor,  producer/director. 

To be certain, I've had a very full life and my bucket list is small.  I'm sure there will be some surprises yet to come, but I have learned that  adversity happens.  How we respond to adversity determines our well-being in this life...and potentially, it determines our status in the next life to come. 

I don't like Parkinson's Disease.   It has grossly altered the dynamics of our lives - Beckie, our children and grandkids have been negatively impacted.  It has forced us into a place of pain and emotional trauma - a place, in some small way reminiscent of the trouble encountered by the ancient patriarch, JOB...a place of psychological and philosophical drama...a place,  however, where I am learning about faith and hope.  A place  where I'm connecting with my Creator -

A place where the 'glass is half full' --- always.

ACCORDING TO CAREY .... OUR FIRST GUEST POST!!

Our good friend, Carey, over at AccordingtoCarey, invited us to guest post for her October 31-day challenge: Surviving Chronic Illness. It's a privilege to share some hard-earned thoughts on the journey with her readers and with you. Sooner or later, you or someone you know will face an unexpected health crisis - this series could help with the process. Check it out and share, share, share! Beckie 


     If I were to list for you all the people in our life who have faced chronic or life-threatening illness you’d probably start running in the opposite direction. Suffice it to say, we know a few …. including ourselves. The one positive about this is, when meeting people for the first time who are facing a medical diagnosis, our personal story and experience give us some credibility.
     There’s nothing more rewarding than being able to pass along knowledge that might help someone on their journey. Through our blog we have the opportunity to connect with people from around the world. We find ourselves repeatedly talking about certain issues that I refer to as my “soapboxes” ….. one of them being advocacy.

ADVOCATE FOR YOUR PATIENT
     It’s pretty easy to find yourself overwhelmed in the medical process. There’s not just physical stuff going on, but the emotional side gets kicked around pretty well too. That’s why, as a patient, having an advocate is so very important. NO ONE should EVER be in hospital or attending doctor appts by themselves -- there's just too much room for error in the process ... especially when the patient is struggling physically or mentally, or is in pain. I’d say it’s next to impossible for the patient to advocate for themselves and a second 'ear' is always good when interpreting what the Doctors or other medical professionals might share with you. We often take my sister-in-law along with us to Ken’s neuro appointments. Many times she has been the ‘voice of reason’ for us, both during the appointment by offering pointed questions and later, as we attempted to piece together all the new information that had been offered.
     We live in amazing times and most likely the first thing most of us do when handed a medical diagnosis is to RUN to Google, so it may seem trite to remind you of some basics. But utilizing the ‘basics’ will eventually give you a strong foundation for understanding and analyzing everything that may come your way on this journey.
     So……
Join an online support group - these can provide a broad over-view (you will need to use the grocery store method: take what you need and leave the rest)
Join a local support group -- these people will have invaluable information on what type of support is available locally. They’ve ‘been there, done that’
Ask for reading suggestions -- and don’t worry if it all seems like gibberish, it will eventually begin to make sense. It’s a lot like learning a new language.

ADVOCATE FOR YOURSELF    
     The patient in your life gets a lot of attention …. as well they should. But if you find yourself in the position of caretaking or advocating, you can’t forget yourself. There have been plenty of articles documenting stories of caretakers who actually pass before their patient. It’s very easy to focus, focus, focus on taking care of everyone else but you. Guess how I know this?
     I’m still learning to give myself permission to address my physical and emotional needs. My sister has been such a good example to me in this. Her husband has Frontal Temporal Disease and most of their life together, as they knew it, has disintegrated. She has found ways to nurture her heart and her body that allow her to gather her strength. She gets therapeutic massages for stress, she walks to and from work through all four seasons, she bought a kayak and spends quiet, restful moments on the lake, she surrounds herself with people who are encouragers in word and deed, and when she’s having a really hard day she makes Apple Dumplings. She’s practically world-renowned for those things! She takes care of herself, because no one else can.
     I’m learning from her. I also try to remind myself not to hold my breath figuratively. I’m trying not to put ‘life’ on hold as we walk out this process. It’s a really easy thing to do -- put your life on hold. Then you look back and realize you haven’t enjoyed the little, everyday moments that make up a life. I want to fully appreciate those moments -- reading out-loud from my mother-in-law’s journal as we complete yet another holiday round-trip drive, having the patience and time to let my grandkids ‘help’ prepare meals and together, work on a puzzle …. for the 10th time that day , and getting lost in the eyes of our 3-week-old newest grandgirl, knowing therein lies an ocean of love.

Facing down illness is a tough road, full of twists and turns with always challenging and ever changing terrain. The goal is to travel as gracefully as possible. Together, we can help each other do that.

Questions about DBS...

Jefferson Jones asked some specific questions about the DBS process and I asked Beckie to respond at length.

Here is Beckie's response:

Hi Jeff,

We try to remind people all the time that NO surgery is without risk.  I'm pretty sure that the % of surgical complications in DBS is practically nil - compared to say that of open-heart, etc.  Not to say it doesn't happen.  I always say that when you can't live with the complications of your disease, then you willingly jump onto the DBS bandwagon! 

In retrospect, we now realize that there were questions we didn't even know to ask prior to surgery!  And in our experience, you don't always get told all the details .... I think because those in the medical profession are SO familiar with the details, that they accept all that comes with it as normal process - forgetting that all this is NEW to we patients (and family & friends).  That said, no question is too simple --- that's their job ... to provide the answers.  Your neuro team should be able to tell you what to expect as a normal process of healing.  Severe headache, nausea, fever ..... these are NOT good and should you experience these symptoms, contact your DBS hospital/ER/team immediately.

re:wires ---- I guess it stands to reason that relatively fragile wires can only withstand so much stress.  Everything we've read and heard has instructed us to avoid obvious activities like sky-diving, chiropractic adjustments to the neck, crazy rides @ Disneyland and your grandkids throwing themselves around your neck ..... just kidding about that last one.  But seriously, as Ken mentioned in his previous msg to you, the kids slamming against the IPG can be painful.  As far as the wires showing -- Ken is mostly bald and we have YET to have someone notice his DBS bumps & wires unless we point them out.  Since you have hair, I doubt even your family will notice once all your hair grows back. (good question for DR --- do they shave your whole head or just partial?)

I love that you are asking questions.  It helps Ken & I refresh our memories of our journey and hopefully be a help to others if we use our convos as a basis for future blog posts.  Along the way we have had the opportunity to attend several seminars for PD patients and have found them helpful.  If you haven't already, check out local & regional PD support groups online to see if they post upcoming events, etc.  We also belong to the Yahoo DBS group @  http://health.groups.yahoo.com/group/DBSsurgery/

you can subscribe directly from that page.

This group has a huge database of information -- the only caveat I generally issue is to use the grocery store method when it comes to postings --- take what you need & leave the rest, remembering that there are people posting from all over ---  some who've had great experiences -- some not.  I would add that for the most part, those who've NOT had good DBS experiences typically had surgery done at a hospital that was convenient to where they lived and advertised that they 'do' DBS, but in reality didn't have the history/experience really necessary. This is SOOOOO important to understand and something I ALWAYS  emphasize when encouraging people toward DBS:  the DBS surgeon/team experience/ability is as important as the programmer's experience/ability ---- if the surgeon doesn't place the probes exactly, then no matter how great your programmer is, you are most likely not going to have a great DBS experience and conversely, no matter how well the probes are placed, if your programmer doesn't truly understand what they are doing, you're not going to be happy with the outcome.  Bottom line: the place you choose for your surgery is VERY important.  The Yahoo group has an article in the database of FAQs --- it covers a lot of these types of things.

Phew!!!! that was long-winded!!  Hope you don't mind .... but there's nothing more important than getting all the info you can when making life decisions.

Be blessed.

Beckie Miller

ps:  if you'd prefer to email Ken/me directly, pls feel free @ ken.group20@gmail.com or beckie.group20@gmail.com

THIS BUD'S FOR BILL

In my previous post, I mentioned a “G-Tube” (Gastric feeding tube) and I want to comment on that for a moment.

The lady at the restaurant told me about her neighbor who had reached a point  in his Parkinsons journey where he couldn't swallow ….. so he had a G-Tube surgically placed for nourishment.

I mentioned to Beckie, (my wife) that if I ever reach that point, I DO NOT want to have a G-tube; I’d like you to understand why  I feel that way.  It all comes down to Palliative Sedation.

Ten years ago, in 2003, I was sitting with Bill (my best  friend), his immediate family, Beckie and a lady from the local Hospice organization.  We were in his living room listening to the Hospice representative carefully explain about palliative sedation.

Bill was seated in his wheelchair beside me.  He’d had a G-tube inserted months before, through the skin, directly into his stomach.   He had not been able to speak for quite some time, and the decision to place the G-Tube was made because he had such difficulty swallowing.  Bill was near the end of a 6 year battle with ALS - a terminal illness also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease - and we were discussing hospice care.

At that point in time, I had not been diagnosed with Parkinson's -  didn’t have a clue what was ahead for me.  I thought I was healthy and just wanted to be there for Bill.  I remember telling people that he was Moses and  I was his Aaron - speaking  for him as needed.  We had reached the point where, most often by his body language and his eyes, I could tell what he was thinking  and I knew he was very anxious about this particular gathering.

The lady from Hospice chose her words carefully, as each of us tried to grasp the meaning of what she was saying.  "When we reach the point where Bill is very close to dying, and we know it's only a matter of days or hours," she continued, "and there is nothing else we can do for him, the least we can do is make him comfortable and not feel any pain.  Once we put that in motion, however, it's final.  He will be sedated and in a state of euphoria until he crosses over."  I realized that basically they would put him into an induced sleep - feeling good - until his nourishment was depleted, which typically would only be a matter of days.  He would not know anything after that fist injection.

There was a fly in the ointment, though.  Bill had a G-tube...and according to Hospice protocol,  Hospice personnel can only be involved when all other avenues have been exhausted.  As such, a feeding tube disqualifies the patient because it constitutes life support -  possibly extending his life for a very long time.  The only way Hospice could step in would be for Bill to get rid of the G-tube.  Bill wasn’t ready - at that moment - to go there, so it was a moot issue.

All of that background, hopefully, explains why I told Beckie that I didn't want a feeding tube; I just want to go when my time is up.

I realize that the issue is not a simple one.  We could probably effectively argue both sides all night long...but that's my experience in a nutshell.

Oh yeah, on a lighter note, Bill and I would occasionally each have a beer together before he had the tube inserted.  One afternoon, while visiting with him, G-tube intact, he indicated he wanted a Budweiser.  I looked him in the eye and asked, " In there?"  He nodded, with a big smile on his face.     So……… I grabbed a 16-oz. can of that brown Kool-Aid, popped the top, put a funnel on the tube, and we took turns - a sip for me, a drip into the funnel for Bill...sip for me, drip for Bill...each time the beer hit the funnel I quipped,  "THIS BUD'S FOR YOU!

"And that," as Paul Harvey used to say at the end of every broadcast, "is the rest of the story."

"Good Day!"

D'Nile

Today I had some lunch at Souplantation after dropping Beckie off at work. Halfway through my meal, an older couple entered and proceeded to sit in the booth across from where I was sitting.  The lady was "well-kept" - with meticulous makeup and clothing, poise and grace (like someone you'd see at South Coast Plaza in Newport Beach).

The man was well dressed - looking like he was in his early eighties - but immediately it was obvious something was amiss:  the tell-tale shuffling gait and 'freezing' as he got to the table.  Then the awkward process of trying to slide into the booth (which he navigated by himself while the woman went to get drinks).  Once he was seated, I looked for any kind of tremor, but it was minimal. 

The woman returned and they began eating.  I  watched painfully as he tried to eat his salad with a fork (remembering how big a challenge that was for me before DBS surgery).

His face had the typical Parkinson's mask appearance and he didn't talk...except to blurt out "I have to go to the bathroom."  At which point the lady got up to assist him, reaching out her hand to try to pull him up to a standing position, while reaching down with her other hand to try to swing his legs around so he could stand up.  Watching him struggle to get out of that booth was difficult, to say the least.  (Too many memories of my own)

The lady ( I assumed she was his wife) graciously and patiently walked him arm in arm to the restroom - at which point I got up from my seat and followed at a distance, finally meeting up with her at the pasta bar.  As I approached, I quietly asked, "How long has your husband had Parkinsons's?"

To my utter amazement, she replied, "Oh, he doesn't have Parkinson's.  He has Dementia and Alzheimers!  He's 96 years old!    To which I responded with  "I've had Parkinson's for 7 years, but I had brain surgery to minimize the tremor."

She replied, "Our neighbor had Parkinson's for 17 years.  He passed away this past year - he couldn't swallow anymore so they put a tube into his stomach." 

I tried to keep a pleasant look on my face as I remembered my friend, Bill, in the last year of his battle with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease), trying to sustain himself with that G-tube protruding from his tummy.  We exchanged niceties for a moment and then she excused herself saying,  "I have to keep a close eye on him."  That was the extent of our conversation.

That's not the first time I have seen someone with obvious symptoms of Parkinson's Disease who was in denial about it.  Maybe they think because there is no tremor, that  it's just old age.  I don't know.    But it astounds me that someone close to them doesn't drop a hint!  That man had Parkinson's...shuffling, freezing upon trying to navigate narrow spaces, facial muscle droop, no strength in the core muscles, very slow movements, etc., etc.

He is probably too old at 96 to be a candidate for DBS,  but there is no doubt he could benefit by taking carbidopa/levodopa medication for Parkinson's.  But then, I am no doctor.  I am however, in the center of my own battle with continuing debilitating symptoms, and I know one when I see one.

What's the moral of the story?

Never forget that D'Nile is a river in Egypt...and its far, far away!

Denial, on the other hand, is sometimes too close to home.

Kenny Wayne