Two days ago I learned that the symptoms that I could no longer ignore were because of Parkinson's. I saw a specialist I have long respected, who will send me to a subspecialist for treatment. It will probably take a month or two to get in. I'm hoping
not to learn my symptoms are rapidly progressing. A tremor in my right arm and hand gave me the first hint the other signs I had been seeing were connected. The tremor has been there about 3 weeks. I've had a raspy voice off and on for several months. For more than a year I've had what I thought was heartburn at night to the extent that I finally had to start a prescription medication to treat it.
Parkinson's sounded like a better alternative than MS. But it has an end stage I hate to think of. Yet there might be a long middle, which I will hope can provide me with valuable time to complete the things I want to in this life and leave a legacy for my family. I also hope to have several years to prepare for the inevitable disability Parkinson's promises.
My husband and most of my siblings now know. I'm waiting to tell one brother who is having some health problems of his own. And I'm waiting to tell the kids until I see the subspecialist and know more about what kind of time frame I have to work with.
But I plan to let them know as soon as possible to help them grow through this experience, and prepare for the changes it means to all of us.
It is better than a car wreck. There is time. For that I am grateful.
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