Dear Bill,

A very nice poem, which I assume was written about 5-6 years ago.  I wonder
whether you are still Lazarus at this time, because on the long run, I
believe the only surgery to really become Lazarus is the bilateral
subthalamic stimulation, which is available in some countries in the world.
But it does surprise me that electrical stimulation of the subthalamic
nucleus in Parkinson's disease is still not wide spread available in the US.
As a neurologist living in Ghent, BELGIUM, I have now experience with 50
Parkinson patients with this type of stimulation and the results are really
overwhelming; Much better than pallidotomy, which should be stopped because
of all the risks, side effects and poor results (see the
scientific literature). Pallidotomy on both sides is even more riskier.
Unfortunately too many patients in the US now undergo pallidotomies, where a
little part of the brain is destroyed.  So for those who are lined up for
pallidotomies in the US and other countries, where STN stimulation is not
available, think
about it before you have it done.

Or am I wrong, Bill?

 Chris van der Linden, M.D.
St. Lucas Hospital Ghent
Dept. of Neurology
Groene Briel 1
9000 Gent
BELGIUM
>
>
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----- Original Message -----
From: Carole Hercun <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Thursday, August 05, 1999 6:42 AM
Subject: Re: Lazarus


> Wonderful.    Carole H.
>
> --- William Harshaw <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >     Here's the poem..  Sorry for the goof!
> >
> > LAZARUS
> >
> > Mornings were a dull routine
> > Immobile
> > Many hors would pass until my brain's command
> > My anxious limbs its tortured message reached
> > And permitted steps, first halting
> > Like a child would take
> > Then runstumble
> > Strangers asked:
> > "What troubles him?
> > His legs like branches on a mishaped tree
> > Do move in deformed harmony."
> >
> > I
> >
> > The day began normally for me.
> > Up at five.  Run.
> > At seven leave.
> > Drive there on the 401.
> > Arive shaking from the tension
> > Of driving.  Or so I thought.
> > Until the doctor said:
> > "Parkinson's" Esther cried.
> > The doctor said:
> > "You will tie flies agan"
> > The fool had no sense of what's important.
> >
> > Nor had I.
> > I tried to hide the shaking hand
> > The dragging foot.
> > To no avail.  One day I said:
> > "No, not hangover. Parkinson's
> >
> > No pain
> > No movement
> > No work
> > Pension at forty-five.
> >
> > A baker's dozen year now
> > I raged like Samson
> > I did not curse God
> > I tried to understand
> > Why me?
> > There is no reason
> > There never is
> > So, why not me?
> >
> > It is perverse
> > Some days I move at will
> > Others cannot despite my will
> >
> > It moves in leaps as if to curb
> > My pleasure.
> > I am trapped inside my body.
> > But not in prison.
> > For I have much to do before I go
> > I must complete the task,
> > Fulfil the vision.
> >
> > II
> >
> > There are otherswho do not know
> > Why they are different
> > Or what makes them so
> > They live in squalor and
> > Fear
> > Of what they do not know.
> >
> > Because we are indifferent
> > Because we care more for the far away
> > Than the near
> > Bosnia, not Regent's Park
> > New neighbourhoods to us
> > Xenophobia is powerful
> > We are afraid of what we do not know.
> >
> > The Good Samaratin shared not our fears
> > He helped without reward
> > We have neither
> > Soul nor imagination
> > We care what others think
> > Emotion does not show
> > It is unmanly
> > To stop before satiety
> > Or so we think.
> >
> > III
> >
> > He said: "The poor are always with us"
> > Do not make Him a liar
> > For He is perfect
> > And cannot lie.
> >
> > We are or brother's keeper
> > Providence keeps us.
> > We defy it hedonically
> > Always testing limits
> > We are the hollow men
> > And do not now it.
> > We whimper at affronts to comfort
> > And repeat old words
> > That cleanse guilt
> > Like silver polish
> > No effort.
> >
> > We go about from day to day
> > Seeing nothing but footsteps.
> > Smelling only the ordinary and execrable,
> > Feeling nothing but itchen textures and
> > Bedroom emotions.
> >
> > What closes or eyes to wonder?
> > Our touch to the exquisite?
> > Our minds to the unknown?
> >
> > Why are we afraid to explore the beyond?
> > Examine the rose without thought of time
> > Or consequence?
> > Shut off all around
> > Let concentration become meditation
> > Surrounded by what was always there
> > Now understood.
> >
> > Creation transforms us
> > If we let it, into
> > New people freed of the opaquing caul
> > That clouds the senses
> > Numbs the mind.
> >
> > IV
> >
> > We do not think
> > Of disability
> > When we are young
> > We will be forever young
> > Perfection
> > We look for and find not.
> >
> > Now half the time
> > I cannot walk
> > Cannot write
> > Speech is slurred
> > I can see and
> >  Hear
> > And touch
> >
> > Pain is transient
> > It is easy to sit and
> > Not initiate ... anything.
> > People understand that it is hard.
> > The anguish of a song unsung,
> > A book unwritten is as impotence
> > To creation.  We are free to choose.
> >
> > We become the passive people
> > Beneficiaries of goodwill expressed
> > Without asking us
> > What, when, where ...
> > We would like ...
> > No matter ... they know best
> > We only have PD
> > The object of their charity.
> >
> > I am Lazarus.
> > There are gradations of Hell.
> > I know them all.
> > I am not a survivor.
> > I am the strongest and best
> > I must be
> > To endure Hell.
> > I am Lazarus
> > I am not chosen
> > I have made the choice
> > To be free
> >
> > V
> >
> > Waiting, Endlessly ...
> > Preparation, three days of tests
> > Word games, memory, spatial,
> > Meds on ... meds off ... performance
> > Videotaping me waling, moving and immobile.
> >
> > The Social Contract, so-called ...
> > Richard Hooker looks down in horror
> > The perverted se of noble thought
> > Destroys the polity.
> > Hence the waiting
> > For an O.R.
> > False alarms ... then
> > Go back home.
> >
> > VI
> >
> > Skull bolted to the table
> > Immobilized
> > For the duration.
> > Wide awake. No sedation.
> >
> === message truncated ===
>
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