Here is Stan's story in the Houston Chronicle (the last part of his letter).

Debbie Bevel

>Greetings from Texas:
>
>First, a few comments from the last three day's postings:
>
>TO: Elizabeth Southwood
>Your story about the "six gentlemen" who visit you every day was delightful!
>I'm glad to see there are others who maintain their sense of humor while
>facing this horrid disease every minute of the day. I firmly believe that a
>good sense of humor can help you deal with most anything. Best wishes for
>continued laughs.
>
>TO: Kees Paap
>Hello! I'm a newcomer to the list (about four weeks). I found your update
>covering the last year to be extremely interesting.I also am very impressed
>at the amount of work you are doing on behalf of PWPs everywhere. Even in
>print, your optimism and high spirits are contageous. And any Parkie who can
>still play volleyball and table tennis gets my vote as a determined fighter.
>Please keep us updated on you and your activities. Best of luck from Texas.
>
>TO: Jefferson Harkins
>Good for you! I congratulate you for NOT accepting one doctor's opinion that
>"nothing could be done" for your father. You have discovered an important
>fact about doctors and the practice of medicine: Doctors do not know
>everything. If you don't believe you are receiving the care and attention you
>deserve, talk to another doctor. Hope the solutions the second doctor
>recommended will work for your father.
>
>TO: Brian Collins
>Thanks for your responses to my first messages. I really enjoy reading your
>postings. Your are very articulate and you appear to be very knowledgeable
>about the subject. (I guess if you've had PD for almost 20 years you would
>be.)  I'm wondering how you tolerate Sinemet after taking it for 15+ years.
>How many mgs a day do you take? How often? Are you experiencing any bad side
>effects? Are you confined to your home and your computer or are you still
>able to move around the city where your live?
>
>Now for something current:
>
>When I introduced myself a few weeks ago, I told you I was a writer. I've
>been earning my living writing (news, advertising, public relations, business
>communications) for more than 30 years. After I was diagnosed with PD 5 1/2
>years ago, I started writing novels and short stories in my spare time (No
>sales yet, but who knows? Maybe next year. I do have an agent in New York
>who's trying on my behalf.) I also try to submit free-lance pieces anywhere I
>can.
>
>Recently, I submitted a "guest column" to the Houston Chronicle about dealing
>with the Parkinson's monster. What do you know, they actually bought it! Paid
>me U.S. dollars.
>
>I submit the following for your reading pleasure--- not because it's that
>good, but as an example of the ways all of us can contribute to speading the
>word about PD.  Whatever your talent or skill, try to put it to work in
>communicating to the masses messages about what we face. Be creative. You
>don't have to be a writer to communicate.
>
>By the way, this appeared on the front page of the Chronicle's Sunday
>Lifestyle section today.
>
>(reprinted from the Houston Chronicle, Sunday, November 17, 1996)
>
>PARKINSON'S CAN TURN
>LIFE TOPSY-TURVY
>
>by Stan Houston
>
>Billy Graham. Muhammad Ali. Janet Reno. Mike Driscoll.
>
>None of these people are my friends. None of them even know me. In fact, I'm
>not certain any of them have ever met each other, But the world-famous
>evangelist, the ex-heavyweight boxing champ, the U.S.attorney general, the
>Harris County Attorney and I have a common bond. We're all part of a
>fraternity no one wants to join.
>
>We have Parkinson's disease.
>
>Parkinson's is a brain disorder. Simply put, brain cells gradually stop
>producing the substance (dopamine) that carries signals controlling movement
>to other parts of the body. Reduced dopamine means limited signals.
>Eventually, you lose the ability to move without the aid of drugs.
>Unfortunately, the drugs often lose potency after several years of use. They
>also can produce severe side effects --- nausea, insomnia, depression and, in
>the later stages, wild  uncontrollable movement of the head, arms and torso.
>
>Those of us who share this nightmarish neurological link often find our lives
>turned into a bad imitation of Lewis Carroll's Wonderland. Here, says the Mad
>Hatter, swallow this pill to stop those tremors. Sure, the White Rabbit
>chimes in, pop more drugs so your hands and legs will work. Say, the Jack of
>Spades muses as he waves his sword, how about a brain operation today to
>reverse those nasty side effects?
>
>Sometimes you wish the Queen of Hearts would put an end to it by yelling,
>"Off with his head!"
>
>But that would be too easy.
>
>Parkinson's disease is not fatal, just infuriating. It robs you of your
>independence, steals part of your future, and fights to turn your life into a
>three-ring circus of false normalcy, pill schedules and drug-induced
>depression.
>
>It becomes your consant companion, much like an older brother who follows you
>everywhere, reaching out every few minutes to smack you as a reminder of
>who's in control.
>
>But only if you let it.
>
>How do you live with a bully?
>
>You learn to compensate, to be flexible, to be patient.
>
>My Parkinson's companion moved in 5 1/2 years ago. I was resentful at first,
>preferring to live only with my wife (Shirley), my dog (Garp) and my book and
>video collections. But it behaved, acting benignly enough at first to lull me
>into a common early-years fantasy shared by many PWPs (People With
>Parkinson's).Hey, this isn't so bad, I told myself. Take a couple of pills
>three times a day and life goes on. I can deal with this.
>
>But I soon learned a difficult lesson. With my house guest, nothing stayed
>the same. Parkinson's is progressive, so my adversary's negative impact on me
>increased as the years passed. Any time I got cocky, thinking I'd discovered
>how to deal with my uninvited guest, it would throw something new at me.
>
>Much like Alice in Wonderland, PWPs must constantly employ their wits to
>outsmart their live-in adversary. Example: When you step out of bed one
>morning and fall face-first to the floor, you realize an adjustment is
>required.
>
>How does one shower, dress, eat breakfast and prepare for work when one can
>barely walk? You buy a walker, those three-sided contraptions you see
>80+-year-olds  pushing around in nursing homes. Sure, your're only 53, I told
>myself as I tossed my American Express card at the clerk in the medical
>supply store. You can push a walker around your home every morning until the
>day's first pills kick in. It's a small price for maintaining mobility.
>
>After a few years, you realize your entire life has changed. Even the little
>things. Not long ago, my first priority before leaving the house was to make
>certain my wallet and keys were securely stuffed inside my jeans pocket.
> Now? Who cares about credit cards and cash? Don't let me out the door
>without at least three emergency doses of pills.
>
>Eventually, you learn there's only one way to deal with this madness:
>acceptance. Treat the disease as you would any other aspect of your life, no
>more, no less. Don't let it overwhelm you, and above all don't let it change
>you. Recently, a close friend told me, "Parkinson's has become a part of you,
>but it hasn't become you." That, I believe, is a goal every PWP should adopt.
>
>But even with acceptance, fantasies about a return to a previous life
>struggle in our Parkinsonian brains like a mad man in a straitjacket. We
>accept our fate, but would still welcome a reprieve.
>
>The National Parkinson's Foundation spends millions every year on research.
>Their goal is to find a cure by the year 2000, a little more than three years
>away.
>
>Hurry, guys. I have a house guest who's overstayed his welcome.
>
>                                           -30-
>
>Stan Houston  ([log in to unmask])
>
>
Debbie Bevel
The Woodlands, TX

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