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-- [ From: Seymour Gross * EMC.Ver #2.5.3 ] -- The following column appeared on page D3 of the May 19 edition of the Philadelphia Inquirer: This Life / Art Carey Staying active, staying positive Sandra Fritsch has always been a doer. A diagnosis of Parkinson's almost stopped her. Sandra Fritsch takes a rare moment of relaxation with K.J., her dog. Fritsch, a psychologist, is keeping active despite Parkinson's disease. (Ron Tarver / Inquirer Staff Photographer) This was strange, she thought. She couldn't curry her horse without quickly switching arms, they felt so tired and weak. Then, when she'd go for walks in the park, her right foot would sometimes slap or drag, and her right arm wouldn't swing. Meanwhile, her handwriting was becoming cramped and illegible, and she was having a hard time performing such simple tasks as mixing a salad or brushing her teeth. What's going on? Sandra Fritsch wondered. The first neurologist she visited talked about pressure on the brain, shunts and surgery. She decided to get a second opinion. Within five minutes, the second neurologist made the diagnosis: Parkinson's disease. She got the news on Good Friday 1996. Fritsch, then 49, was shocked. She came from hardy Polish stock. Both of her grandfathers had been coal miners upstate. No one in her family had Parkinson's. "My body had always been a source of pride," says Fritsch, a psychologist who lives in Chestnut Hill. "I was a natural athlete who could do anything - running, swimming, tennis, golf, horseback riding." She was scared, angry, depressed. She envisioned herself shaking uncontrollably. She saw herself in a wheelchair, her once-lithe body curled up and contorted. She was afraid of losing her mind, her husband, her two daughters. In the weeks after the diagnosis, she threw herself into activity as if she were under a death sentence. With manic urgency, she dug a garden in the backyard. She played tennis, sometimes two or three times a day, and went riding in between. "I was afraid to sit still," she says. "I was afraid I'd turn rigid. Terror is very motivating." Truth is, she was in denial, unable to believe that she - so young, so vital, so kinetic - was cursed with this incurable affliction. A faithful Catholic, she prayed and asked others to pray for her. She hoped for a miracle. In time, the panic subsided. Medication eased the symptoms, and Fritsch realized the disease would not zap her overnight, that she had time. As her neurologist told her, having Parkinson's is like driving in thick fog with your headlights on. You can see only a few feet ahead. Some people deteriorate quickly; others can live fairly normal lives for decades. For spiritual solace, she turned to her pastor, John McNamee, rector of St. Malachy's Roman Catholic Church in North Philadelphia. "Now, you've got your cross to bear," he told Fritsch. He sent her words of inspiration: "There are places in the heart which do not yet exist and into them suffering enters so that they may have existence." All the Parkinson's pros told her the same thing: The people who do best are those who stay active and keep a good attitude. As a psychologist, Fritsch tries to pull people out of the ditch of pathology by taking a history of their strengths. She did the same for herself, beginning with her grandmother, the one who bravely left Poland at age 16 to begin a new life in America, and her mother, who, when she lost her husband at age 52, opened a day-care center so she could hold on to her house. Fritsch and her husband, Kilian, a clinical social worker, practice something called "narrative therapy." Grossly simplified, it's about encouraging people to rewrite their lives by rewriting their stories. Fritsch decided that Parkinson's would not become the dominant theme in her life. "I will carry my cross with as much dignity as I can," she says, "while having as much fun as I can." Her passion is tennis, and she plays nearly every day at the Philadelphia Cricket Club, where she competes in doubles. She rides horses and practices tai chi and qi gong, which not only enhance posture and balance, she says, but help her feel more mindful and centered. From time to time, she visits a chiropractor and undergoes acupressure. "People may see me running around and think I'm a Chestnut Hill matron, that what I'm doing is a luxury. Sometimes I'm embarrassed by how much time I have to devote to taking care of myself. But I have to do it to function." To keep her mind agile, she continues to work, heads the alumni association of the Penn Council for Relationships, is active in her daughters' school, Springside, and has formed a support group for others her age with Parkinson's. She has come to terms with the disease. Like actor Michael J. Fox, who also has Parkinson's, she says: "It's not the fight of my life; it is my life." She even views it as a blessing. "I experience life now much more vividly; everything is in sharper detail," she says. "A professor at Penn once told me, 'Use death as your adviser.' Something like this collapses time. It makes you more aware of your limited stay on the planet, how important it is to seize the day, to be joyful and have fun. Why go through life like Eeyore?" Stimulated by Parkinson's, Fritsch has tried to become more organized, predictable and consistent, "more of a rock," she says. She is struggling - with mixed results - to slow down, become calmer, more domestic, to be a quiet rebel against chaos, frenzy and stress. "I've taken a stand against Emily Post," Fritsch quips. "I used to be more concerned with perfection and what other people thought. I was into pleasing other people because I'm a good Catholic girl. I've always been active, a doer. I have a hard time saying no. Now, I realize I have to take care of myself and my family first." The Fritsches own a getaway house in Bradford County on the Susquehanna River. The farmer who sold them the place used to say: "If you respect the river, the river will respect you." Sandra Fritsch feels the same way about Parkinson's. "I have to realize that it's there and respect it. At the same time, I can't let it take over my life and wipe me out." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ -------- Sandra Fritsch will be riding on Sunday in the Pedal for Parkinson's Bike-a-thon, which begins at 8 a.m. from the Water Works behind the Art Museum. A suburban version begins at 8 a.m. from the Rosemont train station. For more information, call 215-546-9004. This article cn be found on the web at: http://www.phillynews.com/inquirer/99/May/19/magazine/LIFE19.htm