I wanted to share this really funny and poignant take on life with PD. It's not a new piece; it was written for the Washington Post in 2005, so maybe you are already familiar. If not, read on, you're in for a treat. Just wanted to warn any newbies that if you are at all squeamish about what may lie ahead...read with caution or stop when you get to the failing meds spot.

We need this guy if we're going to put together any sort of advocacy group.

Here area a few highlights of the essay:"Living Large with Parkinson's [

Naming this disease after an English physician with a kind-sounding name does nothing to help people understand it. The name doesn't convey suffering; it sounds like you can't remember where you left the car at the mall.

Getting public support to fund research requires something that sounds more fearful. My proposal is "Spreading Muscle Death." It not only captures what is going on in a very melodramatic way, it carries a hint of contagion. Though Parkinson's of course does not spread from person to person, I am confident that a name that sounds like it might would produce a nice uptick in contributions.

Keep your sense of humor and don't lose hope. Fight this thing as long as you can, and then fight it some more. Maintaining hope as the disease advances will become hard to do. It is no fun being a stump. Or a fish.