Some random thoughts on living with PD for seventeen years:

1 When first diagnosed, patients are often told, "Don't be too troubled, PD isn't a death sentence." What you are not told, and something that takes a while to sink in, is that PD is a life sentence.

2 Every time you go to the pharmacist for a change in medication, you are told the same thing: "I'm afraid this new item is a little bit more expensive than what you've been taking."

3 As time goes by, your visits for regular check-ups amount to this: Tap your fingers ten times, tap your toes ten times and leave four hundred bucks on your way out.

4 Feeling lousy becomes so routine, it can almost be considered a positive; it's a kind of manifestation or confirmation that you are "holding the line" against condition symptoms.

5 It's only a matter of time before I'm "outed" as a menace behind the wheel. Visuo-spatial problems have lead to difficulty in driving in a straight line, a practice that tends to attract unwanted attention from law enfocement.

6 Drool me a river. It's getting tougher and tougher to appear normal in public.

7 You never have to pick up a check at a restaurant. During the time it takes to get your wallet out of your back pocket, someone in your party is certain to lose patience and pay the bill out of sheer boredom.

8 and a half. Cognitive trouble? None that I've noticed. I was looking for something the other day, found it, then couldn't remember what I needed it for. Maybe I'm confused.

9 After all this time with no health insurance, why worry? A recent bill for a shoulder dislocation came to a paltry fifteen thousand all out of pocket dollars. That's chump change, for sure.

10 The flavor of the day is apathy. For example, I used to be pretty good at keeping up with cutting edge trends in relation to PD research. Just now, I don't pay much attention. Wake me up when there's a cure.