Results from Form 1 of Peggys journal.htm

Date:: 04/17/00

Notes

Welcome Peggy! Thanks for sharing!


Date:: 06/01/00

Notes

“Wednesday – Lunch with Charlene.” There it was on my calendar where I had scribbled it last week. My calendar never makes mistakes, but I do. I had left a message on my friend’s answering machine, because I hadn’t heard from her. I even e-mailed her this morning, but no word. My thoughts ran rampantly . . . my memory had failed me again. This little blunder took me back to a time when loss of memory really bothered me.

In applying for Social Security disability, I have told you about the mountains of papers and forms one has to complete. It has to be whoever perseveres the most gets initial approval. I persevered. I made the mistake of mentioning on one of the forms that “sometimes I have a memory lapse” and, like a duck on a Junebug, they jumped on it.

Within a few days I received notification that I was to take a psychological test. It wasn’t enough that I could barely get around (I call it a snail’s pace), had trouble bathing, dressing, and feeding myself; and now they wanted to see if I had any sense! My in-laws took me on the assigned date.

The place for testing was a little hole in the wall in a remote part of town. We were met by an office with no receptionist and no sign of life whatsoever. My appointment was the first one of the day. Finally, a lady surfaced (who turned out to be the diagnostician (testing psychologist) and told us to “have a seat; the receptionist was late arriving.” Finding out that the testing would take about 2-2 ½ hours, I sent my in-laws to the Wal-Mart. They were being so supportive.

I waited about 15 minutes, dreading the imminent situation more by the minute. Finally, she came to escort me to the testing area. This room was a little 8’ X 10’ recycled “closet” with overpowering furniture needing a paint job. I was asked to be seated across the table from the psychologist. From that point on I felt like I was a total idiot.

Intelligence - IQ (mental age over chronological age) - common sense - emotional stability . . . being an educator, I was well aware of the terminology. The test seemed so trite, yet I had difficulty "recalling" answers. It was all timed, which added to the frustration. By the time we got to the dexterity and encoding part (where you use your hands), I was a total wreck!

I burst into tears, and at one point the psychologist had to stop. "How long have you had your depression?" she asked.

Depression? Depression! I didn't know I was depressed! I was just feeling degraded and stupid, thank you! I must tell you that I have horror attacks when I drive by that place to this day! The timing of the Social Security Administration stinks to high heaven! I did not enjoy the fact that my one prized possession, my mind, was slipping from me.

That was nearly two years ago, but I still have nightmares about the experience. Maybe I over-reacted - but I don't think so. At any rate, I write it here to prepare any of you going through the process.

I was approved for disability without having to appeal. Thank the good Lord I didn't have to go through what many of you had to with appealing a decision. It's a demeaning requirement, but stick to it! Peggy

Date:: 06/02/00

Notes

Whatta day! Here it is nearly 11:30 PM and my meds (that didn't work well all day) have kicked in full gear! I'm even typing two-handed!

I get quite a bit of forwarded e-mail from friends. I was reading one the other day and sensed my friend was down - didn't know exactly why, but knew he needed a lift. I get down, too, but just need to remember the title of a famous book that I wish I had written, DON'T SWEAT THE SMALL STUFF. How true! If you'll just look around at your day-to-day life . . . you'll find humor in it. (Ever heard somebody say "Life is funny"?)

I had a "funny" event that had just happened, wrote it up and forwarded it to my friend. Here it is - see if it gives you a "lift."

Worry about something that counts - like hairy meatballs. I know - you're > saying "What the?" right now. Just to make you smile and know that I care, > listen to my little story. Tonight I mustered up some energy to make some > meatballs for my husband. His mother had roter-rooter surgery on her > carotid artery in her neck today. Darrell was a basket case! Mama taught > me "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." Likewise," food calms > the soul." So I used both strategies and made his favorite. > > I was cooking away, dying to taste one after it had been browned, but > awaiting the sizzling temperature to cool off. After cooling to what I > thought was a reasonable of "wait time," I grabbed that sucker up and headed > for my open orifice. Ouch! It was still too warm, so I dropped it in the > floor. > > I have this dog that claims anything that hits below belt level, so I made a > nosedive to retrieve the meatball. Aha! I beat him to the draw and was > just about to jubilently celebrate my victory as I approached my smiling > mouth, when I looked at the meatball . . . I HAD A HAIRY MEATBALL! > > I had given the dog a bath yesterday, and he sheds something awful. About > one-fourth of the hair he lost, I believe, had found its way to my meatball! > GROSS! Now, THAT's something to worry about. The sad part is even though I > won the draw, the dog (Festus) got to eat the meatball. I just don't have > this fettish for HAIRY MEATBALLS! > > See what you did now? You've touched the creative, uplifting side of me! > Now I'll have something to post in today's journal (anonymously, of course). > Cheer up, pal. Join the crazy's with me! VERY sincerely - Peggy > Have great day - all 30 minutes of it that's left!

Date:: 06/03/00

Notes

I don’t believe in predestination. That is, I don’t believe that every little event of life is predetermined by the Great Creator. But even He said that we are “predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of His will” (Ephesians 1:11). I do believe that there is a “plan” for each person . . . how one travels from point A to point B is up to individual.

I crossed one of my pathways today. According to the free choice delegated a person, I could have chosen not to go down this pathway. But a believer or not, it cannot be denied that the events of the past few days are far too coincidental to not have been part of my “predetermined” plan. Our plan is revealed by the many opportunities afforded us in life. I call them those “open windows.” If I go through one of those open windows and it’s part of my predetermined plan, things really start clicking. Today, it became evident that I was headed down the right road.

I had talked with Bren on several occasions through my journaling efforts with PLWP. Joan was also a journaler, and I was keeping up with her story online. The e-mail from Bren arrived. Bren and I discovered that we were living only a 2-hour drive apart from each other. Joan and family were going to be passing through, and Bren invited me to join her in the meeting of these fellow PLWP’s. That’s when things started clicking.

Everything fell into place, and the three of us met at Bren’s. I arrived at several hours before Joan, which gave Bren and I the chance to get to know each other. We sat in the sunshine of her beautiful back yard enjoying the picturesque view and chatting away as if we were high school buddies. We laughed, and we cried. The highlight of the day, however, came when Bren connected with her PLWP friend. Bren “talked” her right to her driveway via Joan’s cell phone.

“She’s here!” yelled Bren as I washed up from cutting onions and tomatoes for our cookout. My heart thumped into my throat. I sprinted (as well as one can sprint with a cane!) to the front porch to see hugs and handshakes being exchanged.

Then I heard Joan’s sweet voice ask, “Where’s Peg?” Our eyes connected and we meshed into our outstretched welcomes. I think we must have stood in that driveway hugging for at least 30 seconds – a long time for total strangers. But people with Parkinson’s can never be “total strangers.” You could feel the energy in that hug flowing into a common bond that would last a lifetime.

We ate grilled hamburgers, talked about our journey with Parkinson’s, and dreamed about our futures. At one point we were all sitting on the sofa in Bren’s looking at Joan's scrapbook and all that she has accomplished with PD awareness.

I stepped back and became a spectator, watching three women who should be out playing tennis, taking long hiking trips, or be running endlessly in wide-open fields catching butterflies. Instead, they sit together on this sofa, in this way-to-early point in their lives trying to determine when their next dose of medicine is due and how they will feel tomorrow because they're overdoing it today.

Their paths have crossed for a reason - to do everything possible to promote PD awareness - before their children or their children's children suffer the same fate. Did I say "fate?" I don't believe in predestination, but I do believe in friendships made in heaven . . . and I do believe in predetermined windows of opportunity being offered. I'm so glaad that Bren, Peggy, and Joan stepped through this window. And someone, somewhere in time will be glad for it, too. Hugs Joan and Bren! I believe we've met before - somewhere in time.

Date:: 06/04/00

Notes

Time? That's what this life is all about. For instance, it's 4:30 AM now - can't sleep. Is it meds, or is it that my mind is constantly thinking about PD - how to tell others about it - how to get monetary help for research - how to find a cure for my grandchildren's sake (if I ever have any!) Probably a little of both - meds - PD advocacy - and fear. Fear of how much time.

I don't fear death - this life is temporary. I don't even fear future PD progression - wheelchairs, no use of hands, etc. But I am reminded of dementia. . .and for this I do feel fear. Not all Parkinson's people get dementia - but it's that little nagging fear we all must consider. I am reminded of a recent meeting of three ladies with varying stages of PD.

As we sat looking at a scrapbook altogether on the sofa, one of the three mentioned that her friend had passed away who had PD and severe dementia. We all looked up from the scrapbook simultaneously. The great "Can't keep her mouth shut" spoke. I said, "That's what I fear most - losing my ability to think." they both agreed and offered their editorial comments. Then we got off the subject quickly - why? Fear.

I once told my neurologist I feared dementia because I had been forgetting words mid-sentence, misplacing items, etc. He looked at me sincerely and smiled, "If you are worried and think you have dementia, then you don't." Maybe that's God's way of making dementia pallatible. You don't worry.

But in the meantime (there's that word "time" again), I am strengthened by a lady in her 30's who has become a vocal advocate for the fight against Parkinson's (all the way to Washington!). And I gain dedication to support others through another woman who has just had to retire, yet has devoted nearly all of her time to PD awareness by developing a website. And I am both humbled and empowered by a phenomenal woman who cannot smile (although she does with her beautiful blue eyes) and refises my help to a standing position from her chair and says, half jokingly, through clenched teeth, "I am woman - hear me roar!" Men anad women - care partners - kids in the PD family - can we hear you roar? Peggy

Date:: 06/06/00

Notes

Today, I want to talk about the power of words. Words are just a combination of our 26 letters of the alphabet, right? Let's take if one step further: words have specific meanings and we can find the meaning in a dictionary, Right?

While these two statements above are true, it is HOW words are said and WHEN words are said that really supply their meaning. For example, let's look at the words in this sentence:"You are going to wear that dress" (I will supply punctuation later). This simple sentence of "words" can have multiple meanings - watch: "YOU are going to wear that dress!" "You ARE going to wear that dress!" "You are going to wear THAT dress?" And we could go on and on. Words can have an impact on your life - right this minute my guess is each of you can recall some hurtful words said to you - words that burned an image onto your brain that you can "forgive," but never "forget." We must select our words carefully, and deliver them at the right time and in the right intonation.

I recall some powerful words these past few days. Words I shall not quickly forget . . . powerful words, delivered at the right time and with the right intonation.

I recall someone saying that I was "obsessed" with Parkinson's. Those words hurt, but not for long, because that person just doesn't understand. Those who share this demon know that a more appropriate word would have been that I am "possessed" with PD.

I recall someone using words that I had already added to my repertiore of words to beat this PD demon; words like patience, persistence, perseverance, and prayer. This was a person who understood.

I read here lately of words in these journals that are burning an impression into my brain that will last forever; words spoken in a negative sense: robs, unfortunate, disability, retirement, hate, tried, failed. And then there are words spoken in a positive light: together, share, friends, and love.

Today, however, I have come to the conclusion that not only our choice of words, and how and when they are said is of importance, but WHO says them makes all the difference in the world. I have a new friend that cannot use intonation with her words, because PD has "robbed" her of this luxury. When she speaks, she is only allowed a monotone sound with little or no movement of her lips. But she was showing my friend and me a video of her speaking on a local newscast. Her words were labored and without expressive sound, but they will ring out forever in my memory and will renew my drive to fight against Parkinson's disease. Her words may have been borroowed, but knowing the heralder will help me to never give up. And here they are:

"I have good news and bad news about Parkinson's. The good news is that you don't die from Parkinson's. The bad news is . . . that you don't die from Parkinson's."

And although these words were spoken in a monotone voice, when she spoke them, I saw the power of these words reflected in a tear inching its way down her cheek .

Date:: 06/08/00

Notes

Things change. Those two words form a complete sentence – subject and predicate. I just quoted those two words to my Uncle Tom the other night. His response was, “They sure do, Poo.” “Poo” has been my family nickname since a toddler. Now that would seem to be a normal response to our initial sentence, but those words held a little more weight with Uncle Tom a few days ago. His response was made from a rehab hospital room. It was only days before that he was an active retiree, but now he sat strapped in his wheelchair. Things change.

Thirty-two years ago a naïve 17-year-old walked down the aisle of a little country church to meet her “mature” 21-year-old husband-to-be. They had battled the odds of separation by an overprotective father-of-the-bride and vowed to unite as one “till death do them part.” Today, they celebrated their anniversary, as many “seasoned” marriages do – apart. The groom, Darrell, had a golf board meeting to attend, and Poo went to hear gospel singing at church. A prearranged agreement to “celebrate” over the weekend brings some comfort. Things change.

This morning I visited my neurologist. As has been the course of this disease, the Parkinson’s meds only work 6-8 months and have to be rearranged or subtracted or added to for efficacy. Today, we added another dose of Comtan in an effort to control the harassing “On/Off” syndrome. Only time will tell if the recombination of chemicals fed into my body will work. Things change.

My kids are grown, my career in the past, and my husband’s winding down. I look about my home and feel good about my meager possessions. Our lovely lawn holds special plants and flowers transplanting beauty and many memories from our 23-year residence here. I view the steps of the house, remembering how I once often was able to skip two as I did so without even giving the feat a second thought. Things change.

Here I sit, concentrating on making my fingers hit the right keys in an effort to share with you how I feel today. I hurt. I should be in bed. But “in bed” only promises a night of unwanted dreams and up’s and down’s until dawn finally arrives, so I procrastinate. Things change.

I will close this negative posting with a positive thought of hope – hope through the uniting efforts of every person affected by Parkinson’s disease and through the power or prayer. Please pray with me that “things change.”

Peggy

Date:: 06/09/00

Notes

Years ago I was "hooked" on the daytime soaps. That was years ago. Then I started my family, and my career, and the soaps took a back seat. I lost interest. Then the other day I inadvertently had left the TV on after the local news and I heard it. It was a voice from the past, but I instantly recognized it. Yes, after several years' absence from soapbox land, I still was able to recognize the voice of Victor - and from another room!

Today, I'm hooked on these journals. And I believe I will recognize the "voice" of the writers here even years from now. I'll remember Bea's struggle with retirement, Catluv's care and concern for her ailing father,Kathleen's description of dyskinesia as "wrestling with the invisible monster," the heartgrabing story of PLWP's loss of her husband, Joan's incredible and on-going story, Michael's determination to try alternative therapy with nutritional supplements, Mimi's story of her initial diagnosis, Jan's beginning journal and kind remarks, Mischief's sensitive post of "Through Another's Eyes" and her son, Derek's post; and how Chosh and I wrote about "change" on the very same day! (I may have left a journaler out, but not intentionally.) Years from now, I will recognize your "voices," because they are often mine. It is just so very therapeutic to know that the very same thought I had yesterday has been circulated through the brain of another PLWP. And guess what? I am hooked!

I had an appointment the other morning and didn't get to sign on and check out the journal page. I could hardly contain myself until I got back home and made a B-line for the computer. What a Godsend! This miniature TV-like machine puts me in touch with Toad's in Arkansas, Peaches in Georgia, Pax's in Indiana, Periwinkle's in Kentucky,Lavenderlou's in Missouri, Chasmob's in California, Bren's in Tennessee, and on and on. I find reprieve from my painful sage with PD (both physical and emotional), and I bond with "voices" that I shall never forget.

Thank you, TLC and Bren, once again for a dream made in heaven!

Peggy

Date:: 06/09/00

Notes

Since I am blonde (at least my beautician works at keeping me that way!), I can tell a blonde joke without ramifications. You see this homeless, starving man stumbled up to a well-dressed blonde on the street. He fell at her feet and assumed a begging position and cried out, I haven’t had a bite in weeks!” The blonde looked him seriously in the eye and said, “Gosh! I wish I had your willpower!” Today, I want to take a humorous approach to being misunderstood.

Parkie’s (I love that name!) are often misunderstood. Like the fact that PD or the meds or both cause you to forget. I put out an APB on my glasses at least six times a day! And I write a note for everything, which is helpful . . . unless you misplace the note! Anyway, my mom had told me about some meeting, which I forgot. She said, “I told you about it! I think there’s something wrong with your brain!” I turned and added my editorial comment, “Duh!”

And how difficult it is to make people understand that one minute you are near normal, and the next as frozen as statue a in Central Park (and gathering lots of doo-doo, too!) It wasn’t long ago that I had to appear as a character witness in court. I had waited so long that I was extremely stiff when they called me to the stand. I got up (finally!) and with cane in hand crept in baby steps across the courtroom. I wear this leg brace for dyskinesias, and as I prodded to my destination that sucker was squeaking like a nest of mice discovered by a cat. All eyes fell on me as I made my way toward the witness throne. I looked at the judge and smiled, “Sounds like I need oiling, doesn’t it?” If he thought I was crazy, I had just verified it for him. The lady I testified for lost her case.

My memory used to be something I took pride in – I NEVER forgot a name, face, or date. As a principal, with 400+ kids, their parents/guardians (not to mention grandparents and older siblings), and a staff of 50+, I knew EVERYONE’s name! Oh, I’d occasionally stall a moment or two, but it would come back around eventually. I used mnemonics – you know, the lady with the big “N”ose was “N”ancy, or I’d imagine Jason’s parents as “Bonnie & Clyde” to help me remember their names of Bonnie & Charles. Just a little trick I learned in Psychology 101. I’d always repeat their name 2-3 times when I first met them – “Nice to meet you, Fred,” or “You come back and visit anytime, Fred,” making a mental note of his face and name.

But today, those little “connections” I used to have are getting more difficult to hook up to! It wasn’t long ago that I visited my doctor – one I’ve had for a number of years. While we were talking I totally forgot his name! I scanned his coat which just had “University Physicians” embroidered on it, looked to see if his pen might have his name (but the drug rep had already taken care of that, as the pen said “Norvasc”). Then I became so preoccupied with trying to remember his name that I wasn’t even listening to him.

“Peggy,” the doctor repeated, “Is anything wrong?” “Well, sorta,” I answered. “I’m just having trouble recalling your name.” He smiled and a hint suddenly flowed through one of my connections, “It the same as a salty condiment often seen on salad bars.” Not wanting to appear totally looped, I thought to myself, “Pickle?” Then my thoughts were shattered when he said, “Dr. Olive.” I’m glad I didn’t think out loud!

Quick wit has always been an asset of mine. So has spelling. But while chatting with a friend the other evening, I wrote about something being “humerus.” I was reminded that spelling was a bone! My friend got a kick out of the “principal” misspelling so flagrantly.

I’ll end with a true to life “funny,” that happened to one of our teachers. She was grocery shopping and saw a gentleman that looked like one of her student’s parent. She’d meet him traveling down each aisle and kept staring in hope of a spark of recognition. Finally, the guy looked her straight in the eye and said, “What is it, lady?” “She smiled and said, “Oh, forgive me. It’s just that you look like the father of one of my children!” I believe she said that fella high-tailed it out of that store as fast as he could! I hope I never forget some of these stories. Peggy

Date:: 06/11/00

Notes

I flossed my teeth tonight. My gums bled profusely (as we say in the South – “bled like a stuck hog”). You’re probably saying right now, “Gross! Why are you telling us that?” It’s been a week since I flossed – really flossed. And I’m a “tongue” person. Know what I mean? I’m one of those people who can have a seed between my teeth and it drives me crazy! My tongue will search out and find foreign mouth material and work itself into exhaustion in an attempt to pry is loose. (I hope somebody out there is relating to this!) Now lest you think I’ve become lax in my daily hygiene, let me tell you that flossing just hasn’t been high on my list of priorities this week. Moving has been my number one priority.

Back before I knew what I know now, if I wanted more movement, I simply took more medicine. Bad choice. There’s a payday for such a philosophy. You come to a point when various combinations of drugs run out – nothing seems to work. About every six months to a year, I have to find that magic chemical mix that allows me to do what so many take for granted – like flossing your teeth. I’ve been eyeballing one of those electric flossers – got myself an electric toothbrush long ago. Wonder if they’ve got a machine that retrieves your pillbox from your pocket?

Now, I’m not immobile – some of the time; and for that I am thankful. You see, I suffer from the infamous “On/Off” phenomena. For those of you who also experience this, my heart goes out to you. You’ll have to agree – it’s like when you know you’ve found the right one to spend the rest of your life with – it’s difficult to explain. My best description is that it’s a hair short of hell on earth. You never know when you’ll be “On,” and dread those “Off” times.

Tonight, for instance, my husband and I went to Outback with my son and his wife to celebrate our 32nd wedding anniversary. I was “On,” so I bounded in there and cheerfully accepted our 30-45 minute wait for our table. By the time we had finished eating (and that big piece of Alice Springs Chicken didn’t help matters), I had to be led by Darrell to the car like a mischievous two-year-old! Don’t you just know everyone thought I had one too many drinks?

I don’t care what other people think any more. They will never understand that for some, Parkinson’s is more than a “tremor.” By the way, I don’t have a tremor, or so to speak. During my get down bad and dirty “Off” time, my whole body trembles, including my head. I bite into my lower lips and jaws and take on a poker face. My body wants to assume a fetal position, and it hurts like everything just to sit up. To get from point A to Point B during “Off” time, I take baby steps – what the medical world calls festinations. Tonight I counted; it took 86 “baby steps” to get from Outback’s door to the car.

About 20 minutes earlier, I was dyskinetic. My PD friend says I’m “dancing” when that happens. Michael J. Fox and I use the same strategy. When those involuntary movements come, I get real graphic with my hands and body. I appear to be one of those hyperactive ADHD kids that gave me such a fit when I taught school. Try explaining to a casual observer why I’m moving like instant football replay when only moments prior I was cheerleading!

I was fitted with a leg brace about two years ago because the dyskinesia pulled my ankle out of place and aggravated tendonitis. After about the fourth shot of Botox in that ankle, the orthopedic doctor came to the bracing decision. Hate those orthopedic shoes! The cane accessory was added when my neurologist said, “O.K. When you come in here with dyskinesias and a broken hip, I don’t want to hear you crying!” I really appreciated his honesty. I’ve been carrying around a prescription from my neurologist for a “lightweight folding wheelchair” for several weeks. “Just to conserve energy when you go somewhere,” he said. Might as well concede to that pretty soon.

I don’t mean to complain – really. There will come a day when the med combinations will run out. At least I have good days – good hours – at the present. Consider the alternative.

Peggy

Date:: 06/12/00

Notes

For 48 hours I've felt like someone I don't really know . . . and someone I don't like. Today,this friend of mine heard about the info, and flashed a promising look in my direction for a good job that remains "to be."

Here is a letter I e-mailed my friend: Dot - After your phonecall, I started thinking about some things. Have you ever been robbed? Back when I was in 8th grade (WAY back!), the Beatles were the hottest band going. My family didn't have a lot of money, but for my 8th grade "graduation," they bought me the latest Beatles album (now known as CD's). I was so proud of that album - remember some of the songs? "I Wanna Hold Your Hand?" "It's Been a Hard Day's Night?" "Michelle?" "Till There Was You?" and many more - all on one album! Anyway, we had this end-of-year party the last day of school, and I took my Beatles album. I was careful to mark my name on it and watched it like a hawk. However, when I got home, someone had slipped the album out of its cover without me noticing. I had been robbed of something I greatly valued.

Dot, you and I have been robbed. All my life I wished for more time - time to be with my kids more and plans to run through the fields with my grandchildren, catching butterflies and the wind in my face. Now, I don't know what the future holds. I tire so easily and often ache all over. You know what I'm talking about. We can feel so "good" one minute, then the thief of energy creeps upon us and leaves us void of something we value - a normal life. But I have learned since my diagnosis of Parkinson's some six years ago, that I wasn't really valuing life - I was valuing me; and there's a big difference.

To truly value life is to obey Jesus' greatest commandment - to love one another. The Pharisees were testing Christ and asked Him what commandments they were the greatest. They had been under the Mosiac Law of the Ten Commandments. One of them, an expert in Law, asked Jesus which was the greatest commandment in the Law. Jesus replied, "1st - Love God with all your heart & mind. 2nd - Love your neighbor as yourself."(Matt. 22:37-40) Do you know how powerful that is? Do you know what a commitment that is?

To love someone unconditionally, as Christ did us, means you would take a bum in your house and feed him. You would be treating him as you would want to be treated. You don't pick and choose who to help - EVERYONE is important! You and Denny have done a good thing by helping Zella out with Casey (?sp). That little girl has gone through so much (and has a lot to go through yet!). You and Angie are an answer to Zella's prayers.

You know, Dot, the illness we have affects our brain. We take some pretty powerful medicine, too. We are actually "altering" our brain's chemicals just to stay pain free. That means that the least little thing can cause our brain's balance of chemicals to get out of kilter - someone can say something that hurts us; something traumatic happens in our family; or we get overly tired. It's a very delicate balance that we must maintain. But there's another balance we must also maintain - those who love us.

I used to think that WE were the ones to pity, but I now know that those we need to pity most are our family members. They don't know how we "feel" on any given day - they see us doing well, then we are suddenly ill. It's hard enough for us to understand; imagine how confused our family members must be. They just want their mama or granny back - the one who had the endless energy and was always "happy." Because our brains have such a delicate chemical balance, depression often occurs. We don't want to be depressed; in fact, we work at staying happy, but sometimes that just isn't possible.

I know my kids or husband would never intentionally hurt me, and neither would yours. But sometimes they are so full of hate for what our diseases have done to us that they may unknowingly lash out. Then we might interpret their responses in the wrong way. It's a vicious, delicate cycle!

We've been robbed - but so have our close family members. We know what's missing - our family members are in the dark. They don't have a clue how to cope with such a thief. We must turn this over to God, because He is in control. Paul pleaded for God to take away His "thorn in the flesh," but God said "No." God can say "no" if He so desires. If a situation arises that you don't know how to pray for, let this be your guide (Rom. 8:26-27) when it says if we don't know what to pray, the Holy Spirit will intercede. The HS will step in and allow to happen what is best to further God's plan.

It should be exciting to know that we are "instruments of His peace!" I love you - Peggy

My posting tonight may seem too "religious oriented" to its readers, but my faith has been my sustainer - and I want to share that with you!

Date:: 06/12/00

Notes

Please forgive all the mispellings in my previous post (do you know how that kills a former principal?) I am having trouble with getting meds adjusted. I also failed to tell you that "Dot" in my previous post has MS. She has been in remission for some time, but has the same fears for the future. If you're a "praying person," I'd like for you to lift us and everyone reading this up - and don't forget our families (which includes our PLWP "family."

Date:: 06/14/00

Notes

My, my . . . who was that posting those last two postings in my journal? Must be what they mean by "subliminal." Anyway, this posting is at 3:48 AM ET - can't sleep (obviously) and just been posting/reading at MGH forums. Did you know you don't have to wait quite as long to download at the wee hours? By the way, John Lester, the "Techno-nerd" of MGH (His word), has finally ordered his dream server! Hallelujah!

I hope you have read the PLWP wife's entries of late - she needs our support and prayers now more than ever. Can't imagine her pain.

Kathleen - hope my divine intervention request worked for you. You sound better today.

Chy - read your post in Reader's comments - very good entry. (If Mimi doesn't come back, maybe you can take her place for a while).

Toad .... oh, Toad! I can't imagine a day without the adventures of "Toad & Nanny!" Might want to rethink that.

Bea, Chosh, Joan, Michael et al . . . I know you so well now, maybe better than you know yourselves! These journals are truly my lifeline.

I may not be doing it "right" - thought about crashing the PLWP Journaling Club recently, but will request Lynda's info instead.

For those who don't know, I'm working on a book(and thanks Lavenderlou, Charlie, Bren, and others for previewing chapter 1). Don't know if poetry is ok when journaling, especially mine - (so lengthy!) but so enjoy others shared here, especially yours, Mischief!

Here's a synopsis of my book in poetic form (am I bored or what?) It's just a reminder that someone higher than I has a plan for me . . . and He's a lot wiser, too.

Three P’s Plus One

God went to His computer, and typed in “Perseverance.” The angel’s time was close at hand, so radiant His appearance. This angel bowed before Him, and asked, “What have you, Lord?” “Your name came up; it’s time to go. Earth waits, and here’s your sword.”

God handed this frail angel, the heavy, golden blade. And on it “Perseverance” was carefully displayed. The angel took a scroll of printed out directions. Into the clouds she disappeared, to Earth with God’s protection.

And by the lush, green shore, two other angels lingered. Next on the list – “Persistence;” the same fate then was tendered. Though several years apart, in Earthly count of time, “Twas only days in Heaven, God often would remind.

Persistence – Perseverance; on Earth led quiet lives. Each raising faithful families; each trials had to strive. Then entered both a monster – “Parkinson’s” its name. Both stricken while still young – and years to live remained.

Persistence struggled daily, with “How’s? and What’s? and Why’s?” And Perseverance “persevered,” this monster in disguise. But God’s plan was not finished; His “blueprint” incomplete. He sent the angel, “Patience,” their journey to complete.

Somehow they “found” each other, and offered each support. Through “Patience” found cohesion, to God did they report. “Three P’s” together accomplished – amazing, miraculous feats. Alone, such power was nil; together the monster compete.

A legacy they leave us - to battle cause and cure. To God they remained faithful, committed, strong, and pure. Through honesty and purpose, “Three P’s” were quick to share; A “Fourth P” that brought unity – the victory of “Prayer.”

Thanks for the 4th "P", Bren. Peggy

Date:: 06/15/00

Notes

Oh Mimi! I had no idea you were going through DBS surgery! So glad to see you posting in your journal - hope you will share everything with us. You're in my prayers.

And Jan - I owe you an apology! Failed to mention you in last posting, but know that I'm following your journal. Especially loved your fight with the can-opener!

You know, we spill our guts here (Yucky expression!), but sometimes we can get into deep philosophical conversations - especially with fellow-Parkies.

Let me retrieve a recent chat (in part) with my new pal, Chas. Such a nice, intelligent person! Later - go to next post.

Date:: 06/15/00

Notes

Oops! Had torrential rains and lightning/thunder last evening, so delayed my journal entry until today.

Someone asked me the other day, “What do you chat about with a total stranger online?”

First of all, a PLWP isn’t a stranger, so I cleared that up! Then I told this person that according to research by Dr. Poo, most Parkies are very intelligent, sensitive, and talented in a myriad of “gifts.” So, chatting is no problem at all.

“In” fact, I said, “Here’s an excerpt from a chat session with one of my Parkie friends.” See if you don’t agree – it’s deep!

Friend: can you define time? tnpeg: Sure tnpeg: Time to me is ..... tnpeg: what we're always wishing we had more of.... Friend: it's mother nature’s way of keeping everything from happening at once tnpeg: and what we need the most.... tnpeg: I like that - now to continue Friend : LOL tnpeg: and what I wanted less of as I approached age 13 - 16 - 21 - Friend: went by too fast that’s for sure tnpeg: Philsophical question for you? Friend: ok tnpeg: What is life??? (pause) tnpeg: Too deep? (pause) tnpeg: Are you composing a dissertation? Friend: physically it's an almagmation of cells flying in close formation, lacking enough levadopa tnpeg: you've just sparked my neurons lol Friend: spiritually, Gods children traveling God’s journey and doing His work tnpeg: and otherwise? tnpeg: that's our soul's journey tnpeg: our body - hmmmmm? Friend: spirit, soul , same thing to me tnpeg: use it - don't abuse it - or else you lose it! tnpeg: where IS this conversation going??? Friend: yes, you must take care of it tnpeg: I know - tuff call 4 me tnpeg: Life's Little Instruction Book tnpeg: #41 "Don't postpone joy" Friend: pages missing in mine tnpeg: mine too lol Friend: last rule in book is.... tnpeg: #511 call your mother Friend: all the previous rules might be wrong tnpeg: lol tnpeg: Vol. II tnpeg: When you feel terrific.... notify your face tnpeg: unless you're a Parkie Friend: true Friend: how to mess up your life with out even trying Friend: many people seem to be able to do that tnpeg: you writing that book? Friend: eventually tnpeg: good theme tnpeg: last one in Vol II tnpeg: Call your dad Friend: focus on what you have left, not on what you've lost tnpeg: is that original? Friend: I'm sure I heard it somewhere, pretty simple anyway tnpeg: pretty profound with us tnpeg: excellenta - so simple I missed it - just like... tnpeg: life! tnpeg: everything in our head is plagarized Friend: good parkie motto

Date:: 06/16/00

Notes

Reposting chat with a friend to make format more legible:

Friend: can you define time? tnpeg: Sure - Time to me is .....what we're always wishing we had more of.... Friend: it's mother nature’s way of keeping everything from happening at once tnpeg: And what we need the most.... I like that - now to continue Friend : LOL tnpeg: …and what I wanted less of as I approached age 13 - 16 - 21 Friend: Went by too fast that’s for sure tnpeg: Philosophical question for you? Friend: ok tnpeg: What is life??? (pause) Too deep? (pause) Are you composing a dissertation? Friend: Physically it's an amalgmation of cells flying in close formation, lacking enough levadopa tnpeg: You've just sparked my neurons lol Friend: Spiritually, Gods children traveling God’s journey and doing His work tnpeg: and otherwise? That's our soul's journey - our body - hmmmmm? Friend: spirit, soul , same thing to me tnpeg: use it - don't abuse it - or else you lose it! tnpeg: where IS this conversation going??? Friend: yes, you must take care of it tnpeg: I know - tuff call 4 me tnpeg: Life's Little Instruction Book #41 "Don't postpone joy" Friend: pages missing in mine tnpeg: mine too lol tnpeg: #511 “Call your mother” Friend: last rule in book is....all the previous rules might be wrong tnpeg: lol Vol. II: When you feel terrific.... notify your face . . .unless you're a Parkie Friend: true . . . how to mess up your life with out even trying - many people seem to be able to do that tnpeg: you writing that book? Friend: eventually tnpeg: good theme tnpeg: last one in Vol II , “Call your dad” Friend: focus on what you have left, not on what you've lost tnpeg: is that original? Friend: I'm sure I heard it somewhere, pretty simple anyway tnpeg: pretty profound with us - excellenta - so simple I missed it - just like... .. life! tnpeg: everything in our head is plagiarized Friend: good parkie motto

Date:: 06/16/00

Notes

I give up on technology!

Date:: 06/16/00

Notes

It's 3:54 a.m. - guess what? Right ... I can't sleep! I refuse to take another sleeping pill as a sort of test. Test topic: "Am I ready to bury the car-keys?"

You see, I've been getting behind the wheel when I needed wheels myself! Before you condemn me for jeopardizing the safety of self and others, "let me 'splain!" In the past could always depend on my meds "kickin' in" within 30 minutes after swallowing them. I live in the country, so rural traffic posed no problem. I mean, folks around here drive all over the road. For you city slickers, picture this: people stop in the middle of the road in their cars and "visit!" That is, they visit until ssome impatient teenager comes barreling through. But driving in town is another thing.

On a scale of 1-10 as far as movement, unpredictably I've been going from an 8 to a 2 in a matter of minutes. That's been easy to handle so far . . . if that happened while driving, I'd pull over and waait for the meds or I'd "phone a friend" (family included on my friend list)! But when you "nod off" 3-4 times and "come to" in the wrong lane within a 20-minute drive, that's a pretty good sign to step back aand reassess the situation. Kind of hard to "phone a friend" while wrapped around a utility pole! I believe these "nods" qualify as "sleep attacks."

It's not that I'm afraid of death, but it may not kill me! And (God forbid) I may take out somebody else! Giving up driving will be as close to death as I might come.

Death . . . poor Catluv haas seen death a lot lately. Isn't it proof that you're growing old when instead of seeing your friends at the little league field, you see each other at the funeral home?

I went to a funeral the other night - my grandmother's sister. Really, it was more like a celebration - sang congregational hymns and everything. And the minister made a profound statement that I will not soon forget. He sai that our life is but a mist - a vapor - here a little while, then gone (James 4:14). He then said that our lives were all represented alike on our tombstones and headmarkers. We all have our date of birth and our date of death. In between marks our entire existence on this earth. All of those yeaars arae represented the same . . . by a dash.

Think about that for a minute. A little dash is representative of our time here - short, concise, and temporary. What impact we make on the world must be done during that short, concise, temporary time.

Speaking of impact, I don't want the end of my dash filled in just yet. An I especially don't want the coroner filling in the date on his little clipboaard while I'm wrapped around a tree! Ahhh . . . this too shall pass (I hope!) Peggy

Date:: 06/18/00

Notes

I’ve been giving lots of thought to that dash I spoke of in my last post. You know, the little “- “ on your gravemarker that comes between your date of birth and your date of death? Well, my intent was to emphasize the brevity of life on this Earth and how we should make every effort to do something productive or fruitful while we can. Then I had another brainstorm (maybe initiated by Bea). I “dashed” (no pun intended) for my Webster’s to find this revelation: dash – vt. To smash; destroy; to strike violently; to throw or thrust away. dash – n. A splash; a bit of something added; a rush; a short, fast race; spirit, vigor. Since my original intent of the word “dash” was the representation of life, and life is a “person, place, or thing,’ then I want to elaborate on the noun definitions. #1: “A splash” – This definition brings a mental picture of Old Spice Aftershave Lotion. You could put a “dash” of this spicy-smelling stuff on and rest assured, that was ALL one could smell! #2: “A bit of something added” – conjures up an image of granny mixing up a batch of biscuit dough while explaining her recipe instructions – “Just add a dash of salt to the flour and baking powder,” she would say. I never did figure out how much a “dash” was quantitatively. #3: “A rush” – well, my life definitely seemed to be a “dash” when my three kids were small! I often met myself going – if you know what I mean. #4: “A short, fast race” – This definition brings the school’s annual Field Day to mind. Those 10-yard dash races brought small victories for the same children who won them year after year, and silent tears for the losers. #6: “Spirit, vigor”- I don’t recall hearing that usage of the word very often, but I like it’s ring. “Now, there goes a gal with dash!” Such a statement might be complimentary if you were using your spirit and vigor in a productive manner. I recall having a few students with “dash” in the classroom that kept me on my toes! Six definitions in the noun category alone - no wonder we have misunderstandings with the English language! My application of defining “dash” is best represented by a combination of #2, 4, 6. Our lives on Earth are a “short, fast race” with the opportunity to have a “bit of something added” through our “spirit and vigor” for life. How’s that for saying nothing with a lot of words? God bless all Fathers today, and double bless those who live with PD. Peg

Date:: 06/19/00

Notes

I have found that this program doesn't do cut & paste formatting very well. I usually "compose" in Word, then cut & paste to here. However, the format changes and is often too jumbled up to read. So today, I'm posting directing online. You can't go back beyond 5-6 lines for editing either, so forgive errors!

I tell you all that because today is something important I want to discuss. I want to discuss changed relationships after being diagnosed with a chronic illness. This is not just about me, but observations I have seen.

As the NE Tennessee PD Support Group President, I often call various members or pay them a visit to "check up" on them. At our last meeting, one couple (in their 80's) had contended with several hospitalizations and swallowing difficulty with the husband. In fact, it was ironic that our speaker was a Speech Pathologist who talked about problems relating to improper swallowing - a symptom of advancing PD.

During the meeting, the husband of this elderly couple (who don't look a day over 60!) got strangled and had to leave the meeting. I called later in the week to check on him. I'm both glad I did and sad that I did.

The wife lamented how she didn't know if she could hold up much longer. Her husband was now getting aspiration pneumonia due to the fact that when he swallows, the inactive muscles are allowing liquids and foods go down into his lungs instead of his stomach. To make a long story short, before the conversation ended, we were both in tears. The longevity of their relationship was now being threatened by an intruder - Parkinson's.

Other relationships I see changing are those where the spouses engulf themselves in a hobby or their work in an attempt to find refuge from reality. They stay away from home as much as possible (often unknowingly to self) as a coping mechanism. This leaves the partner alone and isolated, and it makes them feel unloved. The cohesiveness of their relationships are now being threatened by the same intruder - Parkinson's.

Then I see what appears to be an overtly caring, sheltering couple. The wife is wheelchair bound, and the husband lovingly helps feed her, does the bathroom thing, and dresses her, etc. It appears that he is so compassionate and understanding. But behind closed doors, I just know there has to be periods of "I hate my situation" concerns. Their promising future has been threatened by that unwelcome intruder - Parkinson's.

So, what to do about relationships going - or even gone - sour because of PD? Counseling by a professional is advised. Antidepressants may help keep issues in proper perspective, also. But I've found another mode of "therapy;" a method of getting answers . . . "Phone a friend."

Now this is not just any ole friend, but needs to be a friend who has similar conditions or has been there. Such criteria as this is crucial. I mean, would you even consider letting someone operate on you who had never been in residency? It's the same principle.

I have a few friends who have used my 3 P's strategy - persistence, perseverence, and definitely patience. Combining these traits with pray can solve lots of issues. But the friends you choose for unprofessional counseling must made by someone who is (and here comes the 5th "P") - perceptive.

I had a couple of online friends who picked up on my attitude through my posts and chats. They zeroed right in on a "problem" and were there like soldiers, ready to chase the blues away. Now, that's perceptive!

We've got to fight this battle together. It's not enough to meet in a support group once a month . . . this is a day by day battle; sometimes an hour by hour fight. When these little problems surface, we need an instant fix - not a monthly one. Thank you, PLWP friends, for being not only perceptive, but for being there when I need you. Peggy

Date:: 06/20/00

Notes

How does one cope with what life dishes out? ......Balance.And take life one day at a time (good advice for myself!)Visualize each day as one of those long-armed balance scales (like the icon representing law and justice). On one side of the scale, you drop in the good things that happen; on the other side, of course, - the bad. Make certain that you "balance" each day toward the good.

Take yesterday, for example. I started out with morning "on" time right after I awakened - definitely a good thing (plunk - that's my dropping that item on the good side). I was all set to visit my house-bound PD friend at 4:30 PM. My other PD buddy and I had it all arranged (plunk - good side). Then the phonecall came. (plunk - bad side). My husband's uncle had committed suicide. I really wasn't shocked - he had never pulled out of the depression after the sudden death of his wife about 1 1/2 years ago. I decided to spend the day with his sister - my hubby's mom (plunk - good side).

But a visit to the urologist was first on the agenda. I have been on a medication for pin-point bleeding and rigidity of my bladder (interstitial cystitis), and had done quite well for a year or so. But I haven't been able to empty my bladder and had frequency (meaning lots of trips to the potty! ) Are you sure you want to hear this??? Anyway, the urologist was kind enough to give me a choice - either learn to cathaterize yourself or take two more pills (I chose the latter)(plunk - bad side).

So after a lengthy day of consoling my in-laws, I came home to hear a message on my answering service. I have been "on a list" for a possible experimental procedure at a medical center 8 hours from here for about 2 years. "They" contacted me about this procedure and I had an appointment to visit "just as a preliminary check-up" for next Wednesday. As it has all evolved, now my husband and I are flying out next Wednesday and will be there until Saturday (June 28-July 1). It seems my "status" has chanaged to "Acceptance for screening into clinical study - phase I". (plunk - good side). I was told it would be years before I would get called!

I can't tell you much more about the procedure, because it's all in the experimental stages - I will be the 2nd of only 6 in the nation in this phase(if accepted after screening)! I imagine the rest is clandestine (that's a 75 cent word for "secret"!). I never really prayed for anything like this, because the cost of going back and forth to this place would be a strain on our finances. But guess what? It's all paid for by the sponsor of the study! (plunk - good side).

My hubby just found out recently that he's diabetic - and he's not been handling that and my condition too well lately (plunk - bad side). Now he'll have another "worry" to add to his head - whether or not I get accepted into the study or not (plunk - bad side). But, like all of us, we're in this thing together!

I had been having lots of "off" time last week, and I was lamenting into this day how I wasn't able to commit to helping in Vacation Bible School this year (plunk - bad side). Then this good call came. Somebody upstairs is in control of all this, I know. Even if not accepted, I'm getting some extensive screening and testing - for free! And even some "quality" time with my hubby (plunk - good side).

How's your day weighing out? Does something like a suicide mess up the balance of the scales? As long as you don't tip the scales at the end of each day on the "bad" side, you'll make it. I've got a technique that will help - and I'm going to share it with you for free. There's good in everything! Did you miss it? That was it - let me repeat - there's GOOD in EVERYTHING! It's what my PLWP friends taught me the other day - perception . . . how you perceive things.

Right now you're asking, "What's good about a suicide?" I tried to help this uncle . . shared everything I know about depression and how I deal with problems. If only something had soaked in, I'd feel much better. Oh, did I tell you? In the room where he shot himself, he had been reading his Bible - the Bible I gave to him for his birthday a few months ago. (plunk - good side).

Peggy

Date:: 06/21/00

Notes

Not a lengthy entry today - like Chosh, "just thoughts rolling around in my head that must come out" (not an exact quote).

My young friend, JoEllen came over and watched "The Green Mile" movie on the video player. Now there's my definition of a friend. She's only about 23, and her husband is in seminary. Since she's from Indiana, I guess I've become her surrogate mother. We met because she was the journalist of the local newspaper. Her assignment was to do a feature article on my retirement as principal in the city schools.

My retirement was newsworthy for two reasons: 1) it's a small town - about 15,000 and 2) many people didn't even know I had Parkinson's! Remember that I worked on Friday and was hospitalized on Saturday, and never returned to work. The stress and advancing PD landed me a Parkinson's Crisis, where everything "shuts down." For a while I could not feed myself nor walk unassisted.

Now here I am with all new goals and symptoms. JoEllen says the turn-around has been "amazing" to watch. And next week I might get accepted into a clinical study. Several have asked me why I would be a part of this very new procedure. Because someone has to blaze the trail is my answer.

Here is my philosophical summation: If the procedure is successful, I will be proud to have been a part of what I feel is a cure. If not, I have only accelerated the inevitable. I've had a wonderful life; I am ready to go on to eternity, whether it is now or later. (But as I told my PLWP buddy, I'd like to clean up my house a little first!) In the spirit of love - Peggy

Date:: 06/22/00

Notes

"Something More" A Conversation with God

God: Peg?

Peg: Yes?

God: Got a minute?

Peg: You know I've always got time for you!

God: Hmmm . . . I'll have to think about that one.

Peg: Oh! You must be talking about the incident yesterday . . .

God: That's right! Didn't you get my message?

Peg: Well, I was real upset over the death of Darrell's uncle . . . it was suicide, you know?

God: Yes, I Know!

Peg: Oh, I forget . . . you know everything! Did you know he was going to kill himself?

God: What do you think?

Peg: Well, I guess what I really want to ask is, did I have any influence on that decision? Could I have done something more?

God: There's always something more to do . . . but you know the answer to your last question.

Peg: I did visit him a lot - stood by him while in and out of mental hospitals . . . he just never got over the death of his wife a little over a year ago. . .

God: She's here, you know . . .

Peg: Yeah, I knew she would be. I have to ask you, is he going to be there, too?

God: What does my Word say?

Peg: I know it says we are not to commit murder. . . and it also says you forgive all sins . . . but . . . can you forgive someone if they ask forgiveness before they commit a sin?

God: I can.

Peg: I mean, did you?

God: I reserve the right to remain silent.

Peg: I guess I'm just worrying about him. . . he really was so confused that I don't think he made that decision in his right mind. He had such a chemical imbalance . . .

God: Sometimes you have that, too.

Peg: Yeah . . . I can understand how he felt. But I don't think I'd ever, you know, actually do it.

God: You don't "think" you would.

Peg: I just need to know - for peace of mind - could I . . . could any of us have done more? You know, last year I got him a Father's Day card - made him feel so special. This year I didn't even get my own husband one! He was playing golf about all day . . . I told him I'd buy him some sandals later ... but he has to try them on and . . .

God: Peggy!

Peg: What?

God: Stop.

Peg: Stop what?

God: Stop taking the burden of the world upon your shoulders.

Peg: But there's so much to do! And this PD bundle I'm carrying around . . .

God: Don't you know why I allowed that to happen?

Peg: The Parkinson's?

God: It was to slow you down!

Peg: Well, it's definitely done that - especially in my "off" time!

God: An have you used your time wisely?

Peg: Oh, God, yes! Sorry, I didn't mean that disrespectfully! I mean, I'm PD Support Group Leader, I'm journaling on-line for PLWP, I'm speaking at churches, . . . I'm writing a book . . .

God: You're doing it again!

Peg: What?

God: We've been over this before! Are you listening?

Peg: I'm all ears!

God: Are you REALLY listening?

Peg: Right now, you have my undivided attention!

God: What about when you're doubting your husband's love - just because he needs to have some space to think - even if it is on the golfcourse? Or what about all those people you've come in contact with through PLWP or the MGH forum? Or what about when you speak at churches, like this Saturday coming up? Do people see me through you?

Peg: I would like to think so!

God: How do you know what I want you to do or say?

Peg: That's easy - I know what you want through prayer, reading your Word, the church, other people and my own experiences.

God: That's the "dictionary definition." Now, are you living it?

Peg: Oh, yes! I told you what all I've been doing . . . and I sent cards to . . .

God: Peggy! But are you listening!

Peg: I don't understand.

God: It takes time to do all those those things, but when have you let me talk?

Peg: I guess I need to do that . . . been a while since I sat and read my Bible and watched the sunrise . . .

God: Getting back to being as "busy" as when you were working as a principal . . . always "doing" for others and second guessing if you did enough!

Peg: Ohhh . . . is that why the invitation to do the clinical study? Am I needing to slow down again?

God: I just want you to listen . . . do you hear the answers . . . ?

Peg: Yeah . . . I think I do now . . . thanks!

Date:: 06/23/00

Notes

For those who "follow" my entries, take a while off - about a week. No need to click through all those windows unless you're reading other entries (which I hope you are!)

Things just fell into place, and now I'm going to Washington for the Public Policy Forum 2000. My hubby saw how much I wanted to go, but I felt the airline ticket was too steep.

"Did you ever post anything on priceline.com?" he asked.

"No, but I'll give it a shot."

Within 1 hour, I'm on my way to D.C at half the price quoted! Be careful what you ask for!

At any rate - that lasts until Tuesday, then I go for screening for the experimental surgery thing. That lasts until next Friday (July 1). So it's safe to say you won't hear much from me for a while (unless I get hold of a laptop!)

Journaling this next week or so will be informative, but to handwrite is a chore - probably illegible anyway. I'll keep copious notes to "jog" the memory (Yeah - right!)

I'll miss you - it's just like meeting in the classroom each day when I come here. I hope you are learning from each other. I know how Bea must be feeling right now. And Kathleen, I'm pulling for you on that grant!

Got a busy day today. Re-evaluated for a "boot-brace" at 8:30 and graveside services for hubby's uncle at 10:00.

Just a little something to tie you over until I settle back into normalcy. . . "Measure people by the size of their heart, not by the size of their bank account." (Toad - you're a BIG man!)

Hugs - prayers for the screening - Peggy

Date:: 06/28/00

Notes

Soooo much to tell you about being a lobbying activist for PD research in Washington DC this week! But the trip is taking its toll - can barely move and flying to atlanta for doctor appointment at 5:00 PM today.

Let me just tell you to not miss another PAN (Parkinson's Action Network) forum again! They have now merged to the Michael J. Fox Foundation - and Yes! . . . he was there! What a champion for the cause (he and Janemartha come close to being the most committed!) LOL

Bear with me while I am away for a few days. I miss coming here. Gotta get a laptop for Christmas, for sure!

Bye now - love & hugs! Peg aka pegleg

PS - After a poll this weekend (and MJFox's endorsement), I'm changing my profile to pegleg (originated in MGH forum). It's a looong story!