We left things in November of 2013 where I had been told I needed to return to the Kaufmann Building in Oakland to see a “Movement Specialist” – a neurologist with some training in movement disorders. It would be the END of January 2014 before I got to see her.
Things at that time began to blur. I was not on my “A Game” on several fronts and I felt out of control. I made it abundantly clear to Vickie that I wanted to address this on MY TERMS and if and when there was something to share, I would make an announcement. But at that moment we had no answers to the many questions.
That December we flew out to Iowa to see my eldest niece, Elena who was a freshman at Luther College that year. The amazing Christmas at Luther program, the small town of Decorah, Iowa and all that went with it made for a perfect break in the action. When we arrived in the little town at 12:30 a.m. that December morning, it was in the upper 40s or lower 50s. But the next afternoon a bitter and sharp cold front swooped in and took hold. Man was it cold and windy! I discovered the hard way that those tremors did NOT care for that kind of weather and, quite frankly, I was suddenly miserable and uncomfortable. I still managed to meet some of the characters in that town with a cheerful attitude.
The months of December and January were rough here in Pittsburgh that year too. The chill in the air was such that snow stuck around like the annoying guest at the party who was the last to leave. After some miserable, dark days in both the literal and figurative sense, we got to January 29 and the opportunity to see Dr. V.
Here we were back in this office with a million patients in the waiting room. And eventually Dr. V. came and got me herself. Somehow I remember skipping over the weight/height/temperature check and not collecting $200 when passing GO. She swept Vickie and me into the room and we sat in the chairs along the wall and without any formal introduction she sat in a chair at a computer and smiled half-heartedly when she said, “We have every reason to believe you have Parkinson’s which, at your age, we consider ‘young onset’. But don’t worry, we are not giving you a death sentence and we expect that you will live for many decades to come.”
Again, I was not incredibly surprised. With what I had witnessed with Paul years before and the little bit of Googling I had done, I was pretty convinced that’s what I was dealing with. Meanwhile, the tears are rolling down Vickie’s cheek. Still though I couldn’t help but think that this doctor was a little off her blipy. I mean she didn’t really introduce herself and she’s telling me in no uncertain terms that I have PD. Way to rip off that band aid, honey pie.
She told us several options we had – medicate, or contemplate. Naturally I chose the latter because something just didn’t seem right to me. No pre-visit evaluation, no real exam until AFTER the slap-you-in-the-face news, and really no course of action except for monitoring the situation until the next appointment in June.
After about 20 or so minutes, we were released and we walked silently to the car. We got in, we breathed in and out and decided that because it was a Tuesday – a day we normally worked – to go see if our Trivia gang was playing that night. We usually played on Sundays and hadn’t been there for weeks.
As we drove toward the venue, Vickie asked me how I felt. I told her that my lack of emotion was because I had figured this out some time ahead of this point. Nonetheless I couldn’t help but think the way I was told was a little harsh and that there were still too many variables to think about. I needed this to sink in and I had a lot of thinking to do.
Trivia was just what we needed that night. As I said, Tuesday wasn’t typically our night, but surprisingly everyone of our Sunday crew was there which made a hard day feel a lot more comfortable.
Little did we know what was in store just about two weeks down the line.
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