Dennis and David...

I finally sat down a coupla hours ago and started plowing
thru the 140-plus List posts that had accumulated over
the past coupla days as I was doing "moving-related-stuff"
for much of the time.

Eventually I got to Dennis' posting of David's haunting
story (Story?).... <Fact or fiction?>

Dennis, thanks so much for posting David's story.
It hurt so much to read it, tho.  David expressed SO
much agony as he and his wife went each went thru
their individual and joint nightmares together, tho apart.
And I felt like I was left hanging, awaiting the outcome of
the experience....

For goodness sake, fellas, how's David's wife NOW?  And how is
David?  Did you spend the night in the car while the outside
temperature dropped?

And is this whole "event" actually FACT, or is it FICTION?

WHAT'S HAPPENING? <holding breath till I know>

Barb Mallut
[log in to unmask]

-----Original Message-----
From: Dennis Greene <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask] <[log in to unmask]>
Date: Friday, November 05, 1999 11:47 PM
Subject: Fwd - Scenes from a Mall - by David Boots


>This is David Boots' most recent PD story. Knowing how much so
many of you
>enjoy his writing (as do I), I am forwarding it to the list with
David's
>permission.
>
>Dennis.
>
>
>
>> Scenes From A Mall
>
>by David Boots
>>
>> "Do you mind if we stop at the mall on the way home?...I need
to pick up
>> some photos" she asked tentatively. He was too "off" to reply
and instead
>> gave her a thumbs-up gesture as she changed lanes to take the
next exit.
>> "You're awful quiet this morning, about time for your meds?" to
which he
>> repeated his thumbs-up gesture. "I'll get you a cold soft-drink
to take
>> them with" she replied knowing that he often tried to swallow
them without
>> the benefit of liquids.
>>
>> As she pulled the van into a handicapped spot near the
entrance, he
>pointed
>> at his watch and tried to raise his eyebrows. She said "Ten
minutes at the
>> most" which got her another thumbs-up from him. "I'll leave the
keys here
>> if you want to listen to the radio" she said as she got out of
the van,
>> locking the door behind her.
>>
>> He didn't really care one way or the other as long as he could
get home
>and
>> lie down soon. PD had changed him from a young to an old man
over the last
>> several years as the disease progressed and his abilities had
been taken
>> from him one-by-one. His neurologist had spoken with him
earlier that
>> morning asking him if he would consider surgery in the near
future to help
>> relieve him of some of the horrors of his life. He felt his
neuro was
>close
>> to understanding what he was going through but knew that only
someone with
>> PD can really know the score. He tried to convey what it was
like to his
>> wife but he could tell she didn't understand.
>>
>> She truly hoped they had done the right thing by selling their
farm and
>> moving closer to his doctor and the hospital. It seemed like he
was
>totally
>> dependent on her lately and she hadn't planned on assuming that
role till
>> much later in his life when aging naturally begins to wear the
body down.
>> She tried to sound positive when they talked about his
condition but the
>> neurologist had told her that hope for a cure was still years
away and
>that
>> she would have to "be strong".
>>
>> The chest pains hit her as soon as she had entered the mall and
she had to
>> grab a passerby as she stumbled forward. The man helped her to
a nearby
>> bench and yelled for someone to call an ambulance as she felt
the pain
>> intensifying and her right arm went numb. "My God" she thought
"this is
>> really happening" as the pain continued to spread and the
darkness closed
>> around her. The last thing she heard was her good Samaritan
screaming
>> something about CPR as the crowd gathered.
>>
>> Time seemed to be dragging as he sat in the van awaiting her
return. He
>had
>> let too much time pass and his body was pleading with him to ta
ke his
>> medicine soon. He felt like someone flipped a switch in his
body to the
>> "OFF" position reducing him to a zombie-like state awash in
waves of
>> negative thinking, trembling and wobbling in the front seat of
the van. He
>> heard the sound of an ambulance and turned as best he could in
his seat to
>> see where it was headed. Maybe she saw it and will tell him
about it on
>> their way home. First things first, he thought as he reached
over to where
>> she had laid his meds on the edge of the driver seat.
>>
>> As he leaned over, he pitched forward knocking the bottle to
the
>floorboard
>> on the driver's side and pinning his left arm beneath his
uncooperative
>> body and his right arm barely a foot away from the medicine
lying there.
>> Silently cursing, he tried to raise himself as he realized he
didn't have
>> the strength. As he lay face down across the front seat, he
tried to
>reason
>> through this predicament. The horn was less than a foot above
him but it
>> may as well have been a mile with one arm trapped beneath him
and the
>other
>> unable to perform the required contortion.
>>
>> Too weak to lift himself and too weak to yell for help in the
crowded mall
>> parking lot, he started to panic. She'd be back in a few
minutes and they
>> would laugh about this later that night, he told himself. Yet
it seemed
>> like more than ten minutes had passed since they parked. he
fought to
>> control that part of his mind that had gotten him out of
similar
>situations
>> in the past. He even chuckled to himself trying to imagine what
somebody
>> watching this scenario unfold might have going through their
mind. He
>> needed to do something soon because his left arm was losing
feeling and
>the
>> effort he'd exerted in trying to raise himself off the seat had
used up
>> almost all of his reserves.
>>
>> If he could grab hold of the steering wheel, maybe he could
pull himself
>> up. He pictured this in his mind as he raised his right arm off
the
>> floorboard causing him to slide farther beneath the steering
wheel. Now
>his
>> face was a mere inch or so from  his medicine bottle and his
right arm was
>> twisted behind him. His left arm almost freed itself but
remained wedged
>> underneath his immovable weight. Not even thinking of laughter
as an
>> option, he began to cry. He cried because the easiest of tasks
turn
>> themselves into massive efforts (often futile like this one
seemed to be).
>>
>> "She'll be back any second now" he told himself, trying to keep
his mind
>> clear in this inverted position. She'll pick me up, retrieve my
medicine,
>> and drive us both to our new home with its warm bathroom. His
bladder,
>> compressed under his slumped posture, began signalling to him
that
>familiar
>> urge that he no longer took lightly. He felt lightheaded from
being
>trapped
>> beneath the steering wheel and frustrated  from staring at his
bottle
>which
>> he could not grab.
>>
>> He heard voices outside the van as they went by.."she was
walking into
>this
>> photo place when she apparently had a massive heart
attack....once they
>get
>> her to the hospital, I'm sure they'll try to call her
relatives". He tried
>> to call out to the strangers walking by their van but his voice
was too
>> soft and weak to be heard as they continued on. As the blood
rushing to
>his
>> head caused the darkness to descend upon him, he heard one last
voice. "I
>> heard it's supposed to go below freezing tonight..better make
sure and
>> bundle up".
>>
>>
>>