It's a fine line between being helpful and patronizing so I hope that this post falls on the side of the helpful. I keep the adversarial tone out of my voice by remembering that our doctors became doctors because they want to ameliorate suffering not cause it. I forgive them for being fallible humans instead of the gods (or Obamaesque superheroes) I want them to be, as well as for seemingly blithely living their lives while we battle illness and medication side-effects and paperwork and finances and the fallout on our families. I even forgive my neurologist her truly fabulous wardrobe while I choose between the school book fair or the pharmacy. After all, I must be an incredibly high-maintenance patient, what with my anxiety and fear and litany of complaints and unanswerable questions about the future. There's a reason my doctor visits cost $975 each. More importantly, I avoid using an adversarial tone because it is nonstrategic. A collaborative tone and genuine, articulated interest in your doctor's life and well-being not only increases our chances of getting the best medicine our system has to offer at this time in history but also simply feels better.

Meanwhile, please don't call yourself lazy; you are anything but and your participation on Neurotalk has helped me and others. I look forward to the day when I stop following every miniscule study and return to fully inhabiting my own life and non-PD-related interests. Eight months after dx, my mind remains colonized by PD. While I find neurology endlessly fascinating, following every scientific twist and turn can be an addiction in and of itself, an addiction that takes us away from our families, our other selves (intellectual, artistic, spiritual) and our communities' needs. (Brava, Fiona!)

i forgot to mention that my grandmother was on Artane, an anticholinergic, from 1945 to 1961. She had YOPD, most likely tremor-dominant, and according to my mother remained "sharp as a tack" till the end of her life. So try not to panic, side-effects do not affect every patient and study findings of association do not necessarily imply cause.

OK, off my soapbox and back to the boys I've ignored to write this post...

This article sent me into a panic as well. I have to keep reminding myself that the Parkinson's itself, its chemical imposition on the brain, impairs my (our) ability to deal with the normal setbacks in life - it is much harder to rebound. I think this extends to processing negative information and news.

I was in my neuro's office just last week singing the praises of Amantadine - it's the only thing that calms my tremors enough to type or sleep or cut veggies or pet the dog - and now I feel like I'm swallowing little red ticking time bombs. I had to fight the urge to pick up the phone and schedule an immediate appointment (Rose - your description of your lengthy visits with your "unanswerable questions about the future" sound familiar; they always schedule me at the end of the day so there's no one else waiting). My panic has subsided; I think I will send her an email, though, and seek her opinion.

Rose, you said something else that resonated,

"I look forward to the day when I stop following every miniscule study and return to fully inhabiting my own life and non-PD-related interests. Eight months after dx, my mind remains colonized by PD. While I find neurology endlessly fascinating, following every scientific twist and turn can be an addiction in and of itself, an addiction that takes us away from our families, our other selves (intellectual, artistic, spiritual) and our communities' needs."

This is a constant struggle for me after 10 years dx. I go through cycles where for a few weeks or months at a time my thoughts for the future feel "normal", and I am able to stray from all things PD. But these episodes don't last forever, I always get drawn back. Again, I think it is the nature of the beast - PD is a powerful force and we are trying to tame it with powerful drugs. It is bound to affect all that we think and do. Balance is the holy grail, seemingly unattainable but worth our greatest effort.