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Brian, Your story of a physician who would not deign to acknowledge your wife's presence struck a responsive chord. My first neurologist was much the same. He was my doctor; I was his patient. Let no wife challenge what medicine (actually chance) hath joined together. My wife and daughter made an appointment, with my explicit permission and blessing, to speak with him alone. They wanted to discuss with him in my absence, not the medical details of my PD, which would have been unethical, but the effect that my condition was having on our family. At the meeting, he was at first condescending and then defensive. They found him unprepared for their questions. He seemed both surprized and taken aback by the nature and depth of their concern, and quite unaware of the profound effect of PD on those close to the patient. On the whole, I had had a good eight-plus year professional relationship with him, but he misjudged the relative importance of his prescriptions for Sinemet and my then 35, now 40, year marriage to my bonnie Jean. Thanks to considerable detective work and many phone calls by our two daughters, I came under the care of a fine young neurologist who fully appreciates that PD is a family disease. My wife now attends all my appointments, asks questions, takes notes, and keeps the record straight if I try to minimize or make light of my condition. There are two lessons to be learned from this. 1. Don't mess with the Andes' women. 2. With doctors and patients, as with shoes and feet, one size does not fit all. Shop around. Happy hunting, George Andes 62/14