Dennis, First I apologize for sending what must have been a baffling letter For reasons of its own my e-mail turned itself off and sent my unfinished mail into cyberspace. Here more or less is what you should have gotten. >Dennis, >You are absolutely right in your remark that it matters not how many PWP >there are if the popular and congressional perceptions of PD are that it > is a benign condition and therefore less worthy than the more well known >and more "popular" ravagers of body and spirit: AIDS, ALS, MS, MD, >etc,... We all know otherwise. PD is merciless and cuts a wide >swath. We, our families, our friends, all are affected to some degree. > >I wrote the following a while ago. It seems worth repeating. Continuing the discussion about pd and its effects: If people were polled at random as to what they usually think about when not thinking about anything in particular (when their brain [or mind] is simply idling), you would probably get a variety of stunned looks, some sheepish smiles, and many embarassed confessions . My guess would be that the top ranking replies would be money, sex, what to cook for supper, worrying about family members, worrying about the future, and money, and sex. If the poll were taken only of those of us with a chronic disease the answers would probably be much the same, but the distribution of these answers might be quite different. Right up there with money and sex would be a worry about the future, financially, physically and emotionally. What will I become and who will take care of me? Pd is a gift from the Giver-of-all-good- things, an unwelcome and unpleasant gift to be sure, but a gift nonetheless. We pwp's are privileged above others. We share our front row seats in the theater of the future with those with muscular dystrophy, diabetes, Lou Gehrig's disease, and other less well known conditions. Alzheimers patients are excluded; they appear to lose conscious contact with reality. We pwp have a condition which affords us a delicious conscious descent into the realm of total physical incapacity. The mills of the Gods grind exceeding slow but exceeding fine. Pd gives a new dimension to the meaning of the word relentless. Furthermore our pd does not affect our cognitive abilities. Pd is a surgeon with a very sharp scapel operating on an unanesthized patient. We are awake on the operating table and painfully conscious of every cut as one-by-one the surgeon removes our ability to write, to walk, to sleep, to sit still, to engage in the ordnary bits and pieces of life, and on and on. We are like Poe's protagonist victims, like Fortunato, we watch in disbelief as brick after brick is cemented in place knowing that one day we will be fully entombed. One reason I think of my pd as a gift is that it relentlessly holds a mirror in front of may face and forces me to look into it. It is the mirror of self-awareness, the mirror of truth, the mirror that shows me as I really am, not as I might like to think of or imagine myself to be. Denial is for beginners and has no place here. The emotional skills needed to live gracefully with pd are purchased at great price, the price of self-knowledge. They must be relearned daily, and every day I am less than perfect, and every day I stumble where once I went smoothly. Acommodation without surrender is easy to say, but difficult to practice. George Andes 64/15 February 1998