# 359 Friday, August 17, 2007 - INCURABLY ILL-FOR JUST ONE DAY

On a day not long ago, I had a headache. Please remember this monumental
piece of information; it is important to the story.
Now. There used to be a show called "Queen for a Day", in which people would
compete to see who had the most miserable life.
Three women would tell their stories, the terrible things that were
happening to them, and at the end the host would wave a magic wand,
triumphant music would swell, and the winner would get a washing machine,
and a little crown, and maybe a free backrub. It wasn't a lot, but it was
real, and it was relief: it was a day of happiness.
But what if we could provide the opposite situation?
What if we could give the world's "deciders" one day of misery-one day when
they could became incurably ill?
It would be done by magic, of course.
Imagine if, right before they took office, all the Congressional folks,
Presidents, corporation heads, etc., would have to spend 24 hours in a
terrible condition-for example, let's pick one I know a little something
about-- paralysis.
For twenty-four hours, they would be paralyzed.  There would no TV, no
escape, so they would fully confront the reality. Because it is magic, they
would believe it was forever.
There are no visitors, except a grouchy nurse of one's own gender coming in
to catheterize them, six times a day, and one special visit to lift them off
the bed and  plop them on the toilet chair for the bowel movement-- with the
assistance of a plastic glove.
They would experience the condition to the full.
If they wanted to turn over in the bed, they must wait till someone came and
helped them.
If they wanted to breathe, a machine must be turned on.
If they wanted to wear clothes, someone must dress them.
And if they wanted to get out of bed, they would be at the mercy of someone
exhausted and overworked and with too many other chores to do.
They would hear the washing machine going all the time, to get an idea of
the extra work their condition meant to others.
In the night they lie awake, immobile, waiting for the dawn.
They catch a few smatterings of slumber, and a beautiful dream of walking-
And blink awake, to grim reality.
They would not know their situation was temporary. They are allowed no hope.

It is explained to them that cure is theoretically possible, with embryonic
stem cells and Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer, but that certain politicians
do not approve of such things, and so they must remain paralyzed.

For 24 hours the nightmare continues.

And on the 25th hour-
But first, I must tell you about my important headache.
It was right before Chi practice at the lake, and  I was sitting at the
concrete picnic bench beside the patch of bare ground among the trees, and
one of my Chinese friends came up. Her name is Chia Yu, and she is about my
age, and her English is roughly as good as my Mandarin.
She knows I am trying to learn Chinese, so she talks at me sometimes, and I
almost never understand. But that is not an unusual situation for me, and I
nod my head and smile, and occasionally repeat the sounds, and it is a happy
time.
But today, a couple words occurred to me, and I said to her, "Woh to-tung",
which meant, I hoped, "I have a headache".
And it was true. I did have an actual legitimate headache.
She looked at me, reached for her purse, and whipped out a little bottle of
green pills which I hope were the Chinese equivalent of Advil.
It worked! I had actually communicated, I thought.
But then Chia Yu took her right hand and gripped her own left wrist. She
said something, repeated it twice, slowly, distinctly. I had no clue.
Another friend came along (whose name I have forgotten, sorry), who speaks
both languages, and I asked her to translate.
"She says, your blood pressure is wrong," my second friend said-and then
added something on her own, "take off your shoe."
So-I took off my shoe.
Second friend took my stocking'ed foot, made a pincer out of her thumb and
forefinger- and sharply squeezed my big toe, in a scraping short motion.
The headache went away instantly, like turning off a light. I was still
dizzy and light-headed, but the pain was gone. It just wasn't there anymore.
Acupressure, somebody told me.
In a tiny way, I had just experienced the miracle of cure.
Such joy should be available to all.

On the 25th hour, of course, we would make the leaders well of their
incurable condition; no one deserves to suffer endlessly-- not even those
whose ignorance or stubbornness condemns others to a lifetime of misery.

Don Reed
www.stemcellbattles.com

Rayilyn Brown
Board Member AZNPF
Arizona Chapter National Parkinson's Foundation
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