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>Any special requests for food next week? > No food requests but some thoughts. I don't do well in groups of people anymore so I may be a little hermit-like at times...can't say for sure. IF I'm able to time my meds just right, the meal should be uneventful. I may need help cutting my food and/or "spearing it" (seriously). If I'm "on" and dyskinetic (squirmy), it's very unconfortable to try and sit between other people without the urge to flail about from time to time. No reflection on my dinner companions but a side-effect of Sinemet. This should aid you in seating me. If I'm "off", it's a given that any scintillating additions to general conversation will be minimal on my part. I may drop things or possibly drool (NEITHER is a given) but please try not to let my mealtime trials and tribulations trouble you. You could not start to believe what feeding myself is like a lot of the time in my little abode ... half-comic and the other-half kinda sad. I want to enjoy the holidays like most people appear to do but this may not happen during my visit this time. Don't take any of the blame for this. If I don't try to keep some social activity and try to participate in any way I still can, my life will surely become a truly isolated experience with cable-TV and computers as my steadfast companions. ---------------------------------------------------------------- This is a reprint of a post from last 11/21/95 (coincidence? I don't think so) titled much like a similiar post that recently appeared. So ignore the subject heading and substitute your favorite from these titles: "Thanksgiving with OJ" "Showdown at the PD-Corral" "The First Cut Is The Deepest" Subject: Thanksgiving Thoughts...... Now here's a poem sure to please you About David's famed dyskinesia Be forewarned, you weak of heart If everyone is ready, The tale will now start Twas Turkey Day across the land And David's family was all at hand Brothers and sisters, the whole famiy When someone said "Who'll carve the turkey?" With Dad deceased for many years And David's medicine working He thought he'd volunteer His neurons were in high gear When suddenly his arm started jerking I'll spare you the details The blood and the gore David's rush of endorphins Has now made him an orphan And no one asks him to carve anymore.