Walking out the PD blues

Wednesday January 29, 2014
8:30 AM: Whidbey Island, Washington
Weather: 46 F, calm, cloudy and misty

Down, self absorbed and no motivation. So I feel, on this dark and misty morning. My downward drifting mood was brought to a conscious level when I was then reminded of things that I simply had not done as planned.  In a sudden desire for solitude I pulled on my fleece sweater, grabbed my Filson hat and whistled for Bella. Time for a walk.

Once outside I picked up my walking stick and then paused and surveyed my partially completed landscape work.  More accurately my eyes were assaulted by large piles of blackberry canes, somewhat ready to haul away.  I wondered why I had started and created this ambitious mess.  A good friend had seen the piles and has graciously offered to help me haul them away.  What would we do without friends?

While I paused Bella had sit down at the trail entrance and was waiting patiently. She looked around in her care free manner and then looked back at me and gently reminded me to forget it for now.

I walked to the trail and slowly followed her to its intersection with the larger trail that encircles the wooded area owned by friend and neighbor, Vivian.  After only a few steps, I began to feel the regenerative power that nature has.  I was greeted by the dark and quiet beauty of the trail meandering uphill among the trees.  I look for the familiar things as I walk. Things I know well and like to think of by name: the wild rhododendron, the trees of fir, hemlock, cedar and alder. This time of year I can see the remains of enormous stumps that are left from the first cutting of the old growth cedars many decades ago. Time slows down in the forest.

I walked slowly but was annoyed by the lack rhythmic movement of my left arm.  PD has taken that away and left a rapidly opening and closing hand and taut muscles in its place. As I approached the highest ground of the walk I stopped and enjoyed the incredible stillness and quiet of the morning.  I thought of the peace that Emerson or Muir or maybe Frost had enjoyed amongst other forests not so long ago.

“You should consider DBS(Deep Brain Stimulation Surgery) sooner than later” were the words of my neurologist as I can best recall them.  She went on to explain that tremors are among the most difficult symptoms of PD to treat with drugs. I have what is called tremor predominant Parkinson's. She followed her statement with, “I think that you would be an ideal candidate.” Still, a lengthy screening process and then an invasive brain surgery that does have risks, is, for me, tough to commit to.  I rationalize by telling myself that the drugs are doing their job and I am doing all right.  Is that self delusion?  Am I really doing all right? I am 64 years old, I do not drive and the drugs probably work about half the time.  People have now been shown to benefit from DBS for more than ten years.  With those who have had the surgery even those who are not drug free are said to be on reduced doses of the drugs and yet I hesitate.  Underlying the undeniable symptomatic success with DBS is the truth that the disease remains and is marching on, probably unaltered. Michael J. Fox once said no more surgery for him until they come up with surgery known to alter the course of the disease. That sounds like clear thinking to me. However, I cannot say that I have ruled DBS out. I will consider it in more detail as spring goes on, perhaps making an appointment to talk with one of the surgeons in an attempt to put it on a personal basis.

I moved on from thinking about PD to absorb the solitude of the forest. No birds, no scampering deer, just the trees which don’t even whisper.  As the mist turns to rain I feel my mood lifting and when I finish my walk with Bell I will split some firewood.

Shaky in Coupeville