Ron (my husband of 46 years) was having various aches and pains and was exhibiting a strange tendency to keep his right arm stiff and bent rather than swinging it as he walked. His doctor referred him to a Neurologist. I had assured myself that nothing definitive would be found.  The symptoms would just be one of the many that come and go as we become more and more antique. I was at my sister’s in the middle of a Scrabble marathon with my mother (she was winning) when Ron called to say the Neurologist had determined he had Parkinson’s. I immediately felt that sick feeling in my stomach. At that time I knew little about it, except that it was an actual disease and it wasn’t good. That was 8 years ago.

We have both been learning to live with the continually progressing disease called Parkinson’s. I understand diseases are named after the doctors who “discover” them. I’m rather glad Dr. Dingelhofenburgeski didn’t bring the disease to the attention of the medical world. I’d hate to say, “Ron has Dingelhofenburgeski’s disease.”  Now, after much reading, research, seminars and daily life, we know all about the ups and downs of Parkinson’s.

When we were both still new at following the Parkinson’s path, I’d heard about a brain surgery that helped Parkinson’s patients. At that time I thought, “Ron could never have that operation because it probably costs a million dollars.” Lo and behold, at the last visit to his Neurologist, Ron was told he might be a candidate for the surgery. In 1997 it was approved by the FDA so that insurance and/or Medicare would pay for it. The surgery involves inserting electrodes into the brain to stimulate the nerves so that the body would actually perform the function the brain commanded it to perform.

Can you imagine the first patient to have this surgery? “Okay, doc, what does this operation involve?” The doctor would then explain, “first I’ll drill holes in your skull, then I’ll insert these little wires deep into your brain which will stimulate the nerves. Hey, let’s call this Deep Brain Stimulation!” As the surgeon is contemplating this stimulating name for his new technique, his first patent quietly slips away, never to be seen again. Apparently there was indeed a first patient who was actually helped and thus, about 20 years ago a new surgical technique was born, .

We live three hours over the mountains from the Oregon Health and Sciences University hospital where “cutting edge” research medicine is happening. [Of course it’s cutting edge when a scalpel is involved.] This is the place in Oregon where the DBS surgery is done. During our first visit we spent over an hour answering the questions of a 16 year old Neurologist . [Have you ever noticed that doctors are getting younger and younger these days?] She told us Ron could look forward to returning to the hospital for a marathon day of 5 to 6 hours of testing to determine if he is a candidate for the surgery. It involves doing various gyrations under the command of a physical therapist, first without and then after taking the Parkinson’s medication. Then we visit the Neurosurgeon and the Neuropsychologist.

I’m worried about the visit with the Neuro shrink. The first hour involves an interview with both of us. That’s when the doctor, after listening to 60 minutes of our ramblings, will take Ron’s hand and say, his voice dripping with sympathy, “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s no hope for you, since you’re married to this crazy woman.”

Ron is worried about the cognitive testing that happens later. Apparently this involves remembering a set of unrelated words a half hour after hearing them, counting backwards from 100 by 4’s, and various other tricky things. Sure, I can count backwards by 4’s very slowly since I’m figuring out each subtraction, “okay, 82 minus 4 equals. . .” I’m not embarrassed by my lack of math skills ever since I read this: “I used to think I was just bad at math until I convinced myself I had Math Anxiety, which upgraded basic stupidity to disability level and now I feel better about myself.” I’m glad it’s Ron who has the cognitive testing.

All this happens Feb. 12th. Thanks for praying!  Fortunately Ron passed his very first test: an MRI of his brain. Good news! He does indeed have a brain! And it’s normal! I hope, during the cognitive testing, Ron doesn’t experience this malapropism of his: “I can’t remember the broadside of a barn!”