*After sending this to seeveral folks, it was suggested that I post it to the group...soooooo, here ya' go!* ------------------------------ Back from 3rd videotaped evaluation. No private room this time in Coronary Care and no telemetry monitoring equipment stuck all over my chest (only done the first t time). No middle of the night "we're just gonna check your vitals" routine. My roommate this time, as well as the 1st go-round, was a 55-yr old guy named Christie (sp?). After another evening of comparing PD experiences, I asked him how many others he knew who had PD. He said I was the only other person with PD that he'd ever talked with. What a scary thought, huh? The nurse quickly realized that my conversational style was a little different than her usual patient (so I gave it that extra effort). When she stuck her head in to check on us (neither of us was able to locate a bucket of water and/or lift it on to the top of the partially-open door) and asked if "either of us needed a urinal?", I quickly spoke up (not knowing what to say) and said "No, I prefer to wet myself...and before you leave, I'd like to place an order for a cold wake-me-up enema for my roommate". All my evaluations are over and all of us are waiting for the Kaiser personnel in Sacramento (CA) to get this program going. I'm scheduled for the #2 surgery slot at present; this is now looking like June sometime. My neurologist, Dr. Helen Bronte-Stewart, will do the sterotactic-mapping of "where to place the lesion in my brain" and repeatedly checking my optics field of vision throughout the procedure. Dr. Conrad Pappas of Sacramento will be the neurosurgeon who will be "sterile" to work on me (insert favorite "sterilization" joke here). His duties are the placement of the head-frame, drilling of the bore-hole into the skull and insertion of electrode-probes, and the burning of the hyperactive areas in my brain Dr. Jerry Vietech (sp?), a surgeon with the Emory University pallidotomy-team is scheduled to be there to oversee the operation. SUMMARY: Am I scared?.....yeah, a little. But the welcome relief from this disease far outweighs any hesitancy to have the operation. As you're aware, humor often masks my fear and pain because that seems to work for me. But sometimes I pound my fists against the wall and curse or cry loudly in frustration in an effort to cope with the relentless onslaught of symptoms and side-effects...did you know that? ----------------------------------- Hope you're doing well. The weather has been gorgeous at times lately and being able to enjoy those times is a wonderful feeling. -David