When Flights Go Wrong

We took a vacation trip to Florida and had a great time with family and friends. Then it was time to go home.

Once we got through TSA, I rearranged the carry-on luggage, putting our laptops, zip-lock bags of toiletries and our Passports away, since we wouldn't need them anymore. All was going well, until we got to the gate. Anxiety level 1. 

It looked like all 200+ passengers were already there, crowding around. Anxiety level 2.

Hubby had his hands full with ALL our carry-on luggage, so when he asked me to follow him through the crowd, my brain decided that I was NOT going to be able to move my feet. So I closed my eyes and stumbled through the crowd. I tried to get someones attention to ask to board early but no luck, not that they could have heard me. Anxiety level 3.

And to top it off, there were 5 or 6 TSA type agents, all with big dogs on leads that were sniffing everything.  I'm going to admit that I am afraid of big dogs. Not that they will bite me, I'm afraid they will knock me down or I will trip on their leads. Please don't hold this revelation against me. Anxiety level 4. 

The TSA agents wanted to see everyone's travel approved ID's, again, and our Passports were  in one of the bags, so we dug out our Driver's Licenses and hoped it would do. Thankfully, it did. Anxiety level 5. 

One of the agent's waved Hubby through and he walked past the sniffer dogs and then waited for me. They waved me through and my feet refused to move. I tried to ask for help but couldn't make a sound, so I just reached my hand out and a gloved hand took it. I stumbled through the dogs and Hubby and I headed down the ramp. Anxiety level 6.

When I got to the plane, the tiny gap to get ON the plane was, in my Parky riddled brain, a HUGE step and I froze, again. Anxiety level 7.

Hubby helped me get on the plane and we got seated. The flight hadn't even started and I was completely exhausted and fighting to keep from crying. Anxiety level 8.

We always get aisle seats across from each other, so I can get up during the flight, and Hubby is there to help me. This particular flight was full, but I could still get up, walk to the bathroom and back. Getting IN the tiny airplane bathroom was difficult, getting OUT was a nightmare of epic proportions. Anxiety level 9.

I haven't even begun to describe the back pain I deal with due to the twisting of my torso (look up Parkinson's Pisa Syndrome) Or how the person sitting behind me kept jabbing me in my lower back with her foot. Or how I am afraid that luggage will hit me on my head when people are in a hurry to get off the plane. Anxiety level 10.

I've been home for over a week and still haven't recovered from the plane ride. I'm 99% sure that this WRONG flight is going to be my LAST flight. And there's definitely no humor in THAT. 

PS I want to say a special THANK YOU to the young man who sat next to me: Brady Saxton, an Automation Technician at Axon in the Phoenix area. He talked to me during the flight. He showed me videos of what he does at his job, and racing his drift cars and we discussed pick up trucks, gear ratios, traveling and the scenic places I thought he should go see. Everyone else was glued to their devices with earbuds on and the plane window shades closed. I said that most would be oblivious if their was a UFO outside the plane. He made the flight bearable for me. And for that, I thank him, again. 

When Flights Go Right

Flying on an airplane with its narrow aisles, cramped seating, lack of overhead bin space, along with 200 or so strangers can NOT be enjoyable for anyone. There's no humor to be found. Add in all the variables of Parkinson's disease symptoms and even IF everything goes right, it's still not fun. 

Take for example, my Parky friend Jimmy Choi, who has competed on American Ninja Warrior several times. Jimmy should have ZERO problems when he's flying. But he has uncontrollable movements like tremors and dyskinesia. And because he doesn't want his wiggling, squirming and shaking bothering the strangers next to him (or get him thrown off the flight) he will TRY to stay perfectly still; which requires ALL of his concentration. So he ends up being exhausted when he gets where he's going. No fun for him. 

I don't have any noticeable tremor because the DBS surgery I had in 2012 is still doing its job. And I don't have dyskinesia because I don't take any Parkinson's medications. But that doesn't mean flying is easy for me. On a recent flight to Florida, most everything went right. 

Going through the TSA screening is always scary for me, I know they don't understand my DBS "brain pacemaker" and I'm concerned that it might get accidentally turned off. Thank God, I don't have to take my shoes off anymore. But trying to get my jacket off, put the right items in the bins, not falling down and then getting everything back together again when there's a line of people waiting behind me and grabbing their stuff, just makes me want to go back home. 

I try to get early boarding, if I can get to the gate in time and get the attendants attention. My voice is almost gone and the few words I CAN get out, make me sound like I'm drunk.

I also have trouble going DOWN ramps, so walking the jet bridge is an issue. Even stepping across the tiny gap in between the jet bridge and the plane is a problem. My Parkinson's riddled brain perceives it as a huge gap. All of this and I haven't even got ON THE PLANE yet!   

Trying to maneuver down the narrow aisle is difficult, and that's with the plane empty. 

I would love a window seat, so I could look out the window, but we choose aisle seats across from each other, because I need help to get up from sitting. I cannot stay seated for very long. Even at home I am up and down, up and down. 

On a recent trip to Florida, even though the flight went right, there were times I wish I could have traveled some other way. I wonder IF this is available? 

Now, that would be FUN! 

Parkinson's Fun House in the Daytime

I toddle towards the hallway bathroom, up on my tiptoes and go in to brush my teeth. I'm leaning up against the waist high vanity because it's easier for me to reach the sink. To exit the bathroom, I need to move my left foot over my right foot, like doing the Vine dance step, which I used to do without thinking in my dancing queen days. But I stumble and almost fall.   

Note to self: that doorknob I bumped into is going to leave a bruise. 

I toddle towards the other bathroom to get in the walk-in shower which has multiple grab bars. Wonderful Husband, bless him, always stays nearby; in case I fall or need help getting out of the shower. Only after I'm dressed for the day, will Wonderful Hubby get his shower.

We head to the kitchen to get breakfast, I'm walking flat-footed, taking what I think are normal length steps when Wonderful says STOP and LOOK at YOUR FEET. My left foot is pointed straight ahead but the right foot is pointed outward at almost a 90° angle! I am shocked to see this. I didn't have a clue. No wonder I can't step over the right foot with my left without stumbling. 

As the day goes on, I pay close attention to how I walk, and am surprised how often I'm up on my tiptoes and taking tiny steps. My feet are getting stuck to the floor more and more often especially if I'm carrying anything. I find myself grabbing doorways, the counter tops or the back of a chair to keep from stumbling when my body pitches forward as if the floor is slanted downward. The worst is when I walk into the kitchen corner or go to look out a window, I can't back up! I really have to try to figure out HOW to get turned around without falling. If Wonderful Hubby is near, I can just reach out my hand and he will come rescue me. 

The only consolation is that IF I can get OUT of the Parkinson's Fun House, out in the open, I can generally walk just fine. So, is it all just a visual optical illusion, like the hall of mirrors in the carnival fun house? I don't know, my Parkinson's specialist doesn't know, does anyone know? 

In the meantime, I'll try to keep moving forward while staying upright. Adapt, adapt, adapt. 

The Parkinson's Fun House

When I was a teenager, I used to love to go to the Central Florida Fair. I always enjoyed going through the Fun House. The slanted and uneven floors, dead ends and optical illusions were enjoyable and the distorted mirrors were always good for a few laughs.  

These days though, it seems like I am living in a Parkinson's Fun House 24-hours a day... and I am having trouble finding humor in this situation. Let me explain:

Imagine your feet are roped together but not tightly, that you have powerful magnets attached to the heel and ball of each foot and there's a button that makes you walk up on your tiptoes, some times just one foot, some times both feet. You have NO CONTROL over the length of the rope, when the magnets might be activated or the tiptoe buttons will be pushed. 

So here's what happened last night: 

I wake up at 230 in the morning because I need to go pee. I sit on the edge of the bed and slowly slide off because I don't know what 'feet' I'm going to get. As I grab the top of the heavy dresser next to the bed, I slowly stand up. 

I try to take my first step and find out that the rope between my feet has been shortened to mere inches and the right toes button has been pushed. I grab the edge of the bed and am taking tiny steps with my right foot up on my toes. I get to the end of the bed and need to turn left. 

I am able to do that but now both feet are up on my toes and I am still taking tiny steps. I just need to get across the open area between the bed and bathroom doorway. A distance of about 36 inches. 

That's when my whole body pitches forward as if the floor is suddenly slanted downward and luckily I manage to get there without falling. 

As I try to go through the bathroom doorway, both feet are stuck to the floor as if the magnets have been activated. I get my left foot loose and flat on the floor. Then I force my right foot to release. I almost fall, but catch myself by grabbing the sink. 

After I am done in the bathroom, I have similar trouble getting through the doorway, however once through, I can take the three normal length steps back to the end of the bed with both feet flat on the floor. As I try to go around to my side of the bed, the tiny steps start again and I stumble into bed. It takes me awhile to get back to sleep.

Now it's 530 in the morning, daylight has lightened the room and I have to go pee again. You'd think it would make it easier with the room being bright and some days it is but today isn't one of them. I sit on the edge and slide off grabbing the dresser. As I turn to walk to the bathroom, I catch my reflection in the mirrored closet doors and I freeze. I can't get either foot to move so I sit back down.

I take a few deep breaths and try again. This time I don't look at my reflection but then I realize that Wonderful Husband isn't in the bed. So now I have to figure out which bathroom he's in and go to the other one. 

I manage to walk to the hallway bathroom and both feet cooperate. On the way back to bed, my left foot goes up on my toes and I kinda bump into the walls on both sides of the hallway. I'm so used to my right foot being up on my toes that I don't even notice it half the time, unless the rope between my feet is too short. 

Instead of going back to sleep, I just laid there thinking about how I can explain this phenomenon to my readers. 

Then it was time to get up for the day. My body is quite relaxed while I am sleeping but if I stay in bed after waking, I stiffen and it becomes painful to bend and move due to arthritis in my back and hips. 

I slide off the bed and wonder if my feet will work, they do, kind of. I'm walking on both tiptoes but the rope length is allowing me normal stride length. Thankfully I made it through the night shift without falling, crashing into anything or getting hurt. 

I toddle off to brush my teeth, get my shower and get ready for the day shift in the Parkinson's Fun House, which I will write about another day.

 

 

Charge Me Up Like A Tesla

It's been five years since I had my Medtronic IPG replaced with their smaller, thinner rechargeable one, which should last another ten years. I'm glad I did.  Otherwise, I'd be trying to find a new neurosurgeon to replace the regular one, since Dr. Norton retired a couple years ago. I don't want any more surgeries; even though my last surgery made for a very funny Parkinson's Humor blog story

So, how has it been being like a Tesla auto; having to be charged regularly? The first charger I had was tricky to position and took longer to get me to 100%. 

The new charger is a drape that holds a puck which I hang around my neck once a week and I get a full charge in about 45 minutes. It's simple and easy.

 

And since the charger for the 'puck' has a USB cable, I can charge it in a car, at the airport or even on a plane! Which means I can charge myself ANYWHERE, even while riding in a Tesla! 

I have a reminder alarm set on my cell phone, but I'm already charging myself when it goes off. In the last five years, I haven't forgotten even once. Yippee! 

So, now to the title of this story:

Back in 1993, the late country music singer, Joe Diffie released a song called Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox. I used to sing it at karaoke many years ago. Well, I came up with new lyrics and they're about charging ME! 

              Charge Me Up Like a Tesla

Well I ain’t afraid of Parkinson’s, I got a bionic brain

And with that IPG in my chest, my life is almost sane

I’m careful not to bang my head, or break my wiring

All I really have to do, is just one simple thing

Charge me up like a Tesla and I’ll drive

And unlike a Tesla, I can walk, laugh and rhyme

When I’m on my vacation, I can do my own navigation.

Charge me up like a Tesla and I’ll drive

If I forget to charge me, like a Tesla, I can’t move

But I can charge me in my car and be back in the groove

I recharge like a cell phone, it just sits on my skin

I’m glad I’m not a Tesla, don’t know WHERE they’d plug me in

Charge me up like a Tesla and I'll drive

And unlike a Tesla, I can walk, laugh and rhyme

When I’m on my vacation, I can do my own navigation.

Charge me up like a Tesla and I’ll drive

My speech may be slurred, but my brain is working fine

I wrote this little ditty, in under an hours time

Charge me up like a Tesla and I’ll drive

And unlike a Tesla, I can walk, laugh and rhyme

When I’m on my vacation, I can do my own navigation.

Charge me up like a Tesla and I’ll drive

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Talking In Your Sleep

This song by The Romantics was popular in the 1980s:

When you close your eyes and go to sleep

And it's down to the sound of your heartbeat

I can hear the things that you're dreaming about

When you open up your heart and the truth comes out   ......

I hear the secrets that you keep

When you're talking in your sleep

What does this have to do with Parkinson's disease? And why am I quoting song lyrics in a humor blog? Please read on. 

I think it's fair to say that all of us have a fear of finding something in our bedroom when we are asleep. For me, it's stinging critters because I have had bad allergic reactions. For Wonderful Husband, it's rodents, of any kind.

I used to "sleep-walk" as a child. Once, I showed up at my elementary school, FIVE blocks from home, early in the morning, still in my pajamas and freezing cold. Luckily, the principal was there, recognized me and got me back home safely. I had no memory of this event the next day, other than thinking it was a dream. 

Fast forward about 25 years and Wonderful and I are traveling around the USA in our camper. I woke up yelling that there was a rat running along the wall on my side of the bed. Wonderful was wide awake immediately and turned on every light looking for the rat. It seemed so very real and neither of us got back to sleep. Rat traps were purchased and set nightly for at least a week and we slept with the lights on. We never caught the rat. Had we been thinking rational, as dark as it was in our bedroom, there was no way I could have seen a white tiger, much less a dark colored rat. It was a dream. 

Over the years, I would often talk, or squeal in my sleep. Wonderful would nudge me, tell me it was okay and we'd both go back to sleep. 

And then I got diagnosed with Young Onset Parkinson's and learned about REM Sleep Behavior Disorder. Instead of experiencing the normal paralysis of your arms and legs during REM sleep, you end up physically acting out your dreams. Lots of things from my childhood began to make sense. 

About ten years ago, I was turning over in bed and felt a stinging sensation on my left side of my face. I sleepily brushed something off my pillow and immediately woke up yelling and threw the pillow across the room. We now lived in Yuma, Arizona where there are scorpions that can crawl into bed and their sting can cause problems for people who are allergic. People like ME! 

Wonderful was wide awake, trying to calm me down, looking to see if I'd been stung, and also looking for whatever was in bed with us. I took a benadryl and we stripped the bed, looked everywhere, and were awake the rest of the night. Well, he was awake. The benadryl knocked me out and I slept on the couch. We never knew whether it was real or another dream.

In the years since, I am acting out dreams more and more. Often it's the same dream; I'm being chased by a dog and I'm running away. I'm sure this has to do with my childhood encounter with a German shepherd, who jumped on me and knocked me down. So far, I haven't hurt Wonderful with my flailing limbs. 

But in the last year or two, I've been ending up on the floor. The first time, I was dreaming of pleasantly sliding down a hill on a cardboard box. I ended up scraping my back on the mattress platform and needed help getting up off the floor. 

Then I was dreaming of scuba diving and I rolled off the edge of the 'boat' and landed with a loud thud on my knees next to the bed. I blame this one on my Medtronic friend Joey, who had recently posted vacation pics online.

Another time, I dreamed that I had forgotten to say my prayers and again ended up on my knees on the floor. 

One time, I was hitting Wonderful with my pillow, I don't remember why, and he wasn't too happy. Maybe I was just having a pillow fight?

I've been lucky that I seem to be acting out pleasant dreams. Let's hope it stays that way.

Bevy Does Botox

The three middle toes on my right foot had been curling down for years. It used to only happen occasionally, then more often. I found a temporary fix by taking half of a .5mg alprazolam pill used for anxiety daily. However, that fix wasn't working anymore. 

My toes were curled down all the time, even when I slept. They had gotten to the point where I couldn't straighten them out anymore. I had developed callouses on the tips of those three toes. The nails were thick and being pushed upwards from the constant pressure. Some days, walking was extremely painful.

My toes back in 2020

Then I happened to watch a video replay of a Zoom program from the great folks at PMDAlliance.org about botulinum toxin injections uses in Movement Disorders. Here's a link to the video on YouTube:

Botulinum Toxin Injections for Movement Disorders

Dystonia! That was what was causing my toes to curl down, and there was a potential fix. Great! Now all I had to do was get an appointment with a Movement Disorder Specialist who I would trust doing this type of injection. There was only one name on my list; Scott Sherman MD.

I had NOT been his patient for years (because of insurance issues) but I reached out to him via email and he said make an appointment thru central scheduling. I got an appointment at the end of July 2022. I was hoping to get an injection on that first visit, but unfortunately for me, he had to get insurance authorization first. 

I had a tentative appointment for the first injection two days after I got back from the trip to Florida. The first injection worked well, and I have gone back for subsequent injections in December 2022, March, June and August 2023. The callouses on the tips of my toes are slowly disappearing but the thick nails still look awful. And even with the "Botox" injections, those three toes are still not straight like they are on my left foot. 

When I told him what I was going to call this story, he burst out laughing! 

Telling him that, while he was doing the injection was probably not the smartest thing I have ever done. But making your Movement Disorder Specialist laugh out loud, and catching it on video, was worth it!

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The Hunger Games, Parkinson's Style

For most of my life, I woke up hungry. It didn't matter if I ate a large meal right before I went to sleep. I'd still wake up hungry. There was never an argument about who got to use the bathroom first; because I was going to eat before I did anything else. If I could have figured out a way to have my bowl of cereal with the cold milk in it on my nightstand, I would have gobbled it down before I even climbed out of bed. I always ate within ten minutes of getting up. Always. 

Cereal on nightstand

Then came my Parkinson's diagnosis and a carbidopa-levodopa (Sinemet) prescription that needed to be taken as soon as I woke up AND on an empty stomach. The medication made me feel a bit queasy so my cereal got delayed by an hour and I lost a few pounds.

A few years later, I started taking a dopamine agonist along with the Sinemet. Soon after, I found I was hungry for sweets and I gained a few pounds.

Then I had my DBS surgery and stopped taking the agonist and my hunger for sweets slowly disappeared. However, I kept gaining weight. How much? Almost 15 pounds!    

Prior to having the DBS surgery, I heard stories from others that weight gain afterward was common. My Parkinson's specialist confirmed this phenomena, but didn't know the exact reason.

Then I realized that I was NOT waking up hungry. In fact, I never felt hungry. I was eating because my Wonderful Hubby would say it was time to eat. If I had extra milk in my cereal bowl, I'd add more cereal, but not because I was hungry. Instead of eating a few potato chips, I would eat the whole bag but not because I was hungry. I'd just keep putting more servings on my plate until everything was gone. Not only did I not feel hungry, I wasn't ever feeling full either. No wonder I was gaining weight! The part of my brain controlling hunger and fullness wasn't working correctly. 

Was the DBS to blame? Maybe? 

I had to do something. I started to control my portions. No extra cereal for breakfast. I count out my potato chips. I allow myself one low calorie healthy evening snack, usually oatmeal or a frozen fruit bar. I am now back down to my pre-surgery weight and I'm still never hungry. 

Looks like I won the Parkinson's Hunger Game! 

PS Has anyone else with DBS experienced the same thing? 

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The Parkinson's Doctor Will "See" You Now

Two days before my 60th birthday in March, everything in my area closed due to the novel coronavirus (covid-19.) Wonderful Hubby and I cancelled my birthday party and stayed home with my birthday present, Miss Kitty. 

Miss Kitty

Our monthly Parkinson's disease support group meetings were cancelled, so were the monthly social pizza parties. Those of us with chronic conditions (me) or over age 65 (everyone I know) all began self-isolating in earnest. A quilt-making friend made us some humorous face masks and we soon settled into a stay-at-home routine. 

Baseballs for WH, lipstick for me

I was concerned because I had not seen my Movement Disorder Specialist in over a year and  thought I might lose my current patient status. So I sent her a message saying that I wanted to remain a patient, but didn't know when I could travel to see her. My doctor replied, "As long as you are stable, we can wait, but call if you need me." I WAS stable and I didn't mind waiting a few months longer. 

In May, I got this email from my Medicare Advantage Plan health insurance: Due to the coronavirus, telehealth visits, video or by phone, with your primary care doctor and all specialists will be covered and all co-pays are waived. 

I read it again, and had Wonderful Hubby read it too. If I needed (or just wanted) to 'see' my Parkinson's doctor, I could do it right from my own home! To be honest, those 240-mile each way drives to Tucson for a 30-minute appointment were getting tedious.

In early July, I had some things I wanted to discuss with my Parky Doc, so I called and asked about a telehealth visit. My video visit was set up for July 21st and I'd receive instructions via text messaging on how to 'connect' with her via my smartphone. I had my notes all ready and found a well lighted place where she could watch me walk and do all those finger tap type tests. 

My smartphone

The afternoon of July 20th came and I received a call saying my appointment was being changed to just a phone call. This was okay with me.

The next morning, my Parky Doc called me, from HER home. She had some sniffles at work and was quarantining herself while awaiting covid-19 test results. That explained why we couldn't do video.

She asked about my current DBS settings and confirmed what prescription medications I was taking. I reminded her about my shoulder pain fix and my anxious toes. Then she said, now, what would you like to discuss? For the next 25-minutes, I had her undivided attention. We discussed my speech problems and had a laugh when I said I liked wearing a mask because it hid my drooling problem. I asked whether I should consider re-taking the cognitive exam and if so, could it also be done using telehealth. She said she'd find out. And we were done!

I really liked this type of visit. I wasn't tired or stressed out from driving 5 hours, I didn't have to spend a night in a hotel, and when it was done, I went into my kitchen and made my usual breakfast. 

I think I will schedule another telehealth visit before the end of the year. And I really hope that telehealth will still be available after covid-19 is gone! 

I Have Anxious Toes

Disclaimer: Before taking any prescription medication other than exactly as prescribed, you should ALWAYS consult your physicians. 

I have a confession; I always have a prescription bottle of 0.5 mg alprazolam (generic Xanax) in my medicine cabinet. It's used to treat anxiety and panic disorders and belongs to a class of medications called benzodiazepines which act on the brain and nerves (central nervous system) to produce a calming effect. It was first prescribed by my diagnosing neurologist, Dr. Zonis when my step-son Mark died suddenly in 2009. I took half of a 0.5 mg tablet a couple of times a day for a few weeks. 

Over the years since then, I sometimes take half a tablet if I am feeling anxious or stressed. If I have to drive to Phoenix, Arizona, I will take half a tablet to help me cope with the heavy traffic. I take a half when I venture into Mexico to see my dentist.

I do the same if I have to fly somewhere. Trying to get through the airport, dealing with luggage, security screening, retrieving e-tickets on my smartphone and delayed flights are very stressful. Once I'm on the plane, I'm fine. 

My Movement Disorder Specialist and my primary care physician are both okay with this minimal usage and either will happily write me a new prescription when needed. A bottle of thirty 0.5 mg tablets may last me two years. I don't get high, or sleepy, I just feel calmer. 

Now, about my anxious toes. For months, I've had a problem with the three middle toes on my right foot wanting to curl under. Not only is it extremely painful when walking but it also irritates the nails on those particular toes. 

Sometimes, I can walk on my tip-toes and trick them into straightening out but that doesn't always work. On those occasions, I just hobble along on my right heel until I can find a place to sit. It's very aggravating, to say the least.  

It's January 2020, and Wonderful Husband & I are invited to a two-day Parkinson's event in Phoenix. I take half a tablet and I drive to the event hotel. The next morning, I take another half because I will be driving back home later that afternoon. The following morning, I take another half because I will be taking a visiting friend across the border into Mexico. It's not the dentist that bothers me, it's the uneven walkways and the constant hawkers trying to sell me stuff that makes me anxious (the teenage looking soldiers with assault rifles are a bit unnerving too.)

Later that day, I realized that my toes didn't curl when I was in Phoenix for two days and they didn't curl the Mexico day either. Hmm, interesting. 

I contacted my Movement Disorder Specialist to see if this was possible or if it was a placebo effect thing. She said Xanax can have a muscle-relaxing effect in your brain. She advised me to continue taking it for a week and then stop for a week and let her know the results.

I took half a tablet every morning for the next four days. No curling toes! I stopped taking it for a week and the curling toes returned. I started taking it again and the toe-curling stopped again. 

I told her about my results. She wasn't surprised and wrote me a new prescription and so far, half a 0.5 mg tablet every morning is working. 

I'm happy and my feet are happy. No more anxious toes. Yippee!

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Shoulder Pain with Parkinson's

My shoulder problem began more than two years ago when it was time to put on my pajamas. I went to take my pullover shirt off, using the two-handed crossover method I'd used all my life and...OUCH!

There was a pain in my left shoulder joint. I reached back with my left hand to unhook my bra and another OUCH!  

I tried to remember if I had done anything unusual recently but there was nothing. When I went to put my left arm under my pillow for sleeping, this was also painful, so I slept on my right side all night. 

By morning, I was a grumpy Parky. I could find no humor in this situation. I didn't want to aggravate my left shoulder, so I chose a button-up shirt. I was careful not to raise my left arm too high or behind my back.  

Thinking that it might be a Parkinson's disease rigidity problem, I tried taking more carbi/levodopa. All that did is cause more dyskinesia. I tried increasing my left side DBS settings, but that didn't help either. 

I made an appointment with Ana, my primary care provider. She did an exam and suggested trying a course of methylprednisolone and gave me some exercises to try. I went back 6-weeks later, nothing had changed, so she gave me a cortisone shot. This didn't work either. 

I made an appointment with an Orthopedist that Ana recommended. He took x-rays of my left shoulder  and it was normal. A month later, I had a CT scan with contrast done on my left shoulder. It was also normal (of course.) 

He said there MIGHT be a small bone spur that's causing the problem. He suggested exploratory surgery, but I declined. So he gave me a cortisone shot in the left shoulder and said if it doesn't work, come back when you want surgery. This cortisone shot didn't work either and there was NO WAY I was going to have someone go digging around looking for something that might not even exist. I would just continue to be careful how I moved my left shoulder.

Then June 2019 came and I had my DBS battery replaced. I increased my DBS settings on my right side because my right foot was dragging. The small amount of carbi/levodopa I was taking, half a 25/100 pill every other day, caused severe dyskinesia. I cut back to twice a week, then once a week, and finally stop taking it completely. 

YumaBev with arm behind back

Shortly thereafter, without thinking, I reached back with my left arm to unhook my bra and there was no pain. I reached my left arm above my head and no pain! Yippee!!  

YumaBev with arms raised up

I asked my Movement Disorder Specialist when I saw her in December if my left shoulder problem could have been caused by the carbi/levodopa?

Yes, she said. You probably developed what is known as levodopa-induced dystonia. Isn't that interesting?? Just what we Parkies need...another medication side effect. 

Parky Picasso

I did something completely abnormal for me the other night. I went to a Ladies Paint Night with a friend. Paint and I don't mix well, pun intended. Add in my dexterity problems from having Parkinson's disease and you know that any story involving me and paint is bound to be humorous. After all, my history with painting is awkward to say the least. 

When I was in elementary school, a group of us were invited to be part of a local PBS show where we would be painting a mural. It was a live show, which in today's world, would have been unheard of. About ten minutes into the show, I had to go pee and didn't know what to do or where to go. So I walked up to the presenter, tapped him on his elbow and whispered in his ear, and my whisper was promptly picked up by the microphone! You can just imagine the teasing I got at school the next day.

My next foray into painting was in high school. I was tired of being in the Marching Band and was looking for a different elective-type class to take. Home Economics had no interest for me whatsoever and Shop class was boys only. I didn't even consider Chorus after my disastrous sixth grade talent show performance. So I signed up for Art class. I lasted a week, before the teacher took me aside and strongly suggested I go back to Marching Band.

After that, the only painting I did involved paint rollers, gallons of paint, and lots of drop-cloths and interior or exterior walls of houses. I didn't even do the touch ups around the windows and doors. That part was always done by someone else.

So, when my friend Sandy invited me to go with her to a Ladies Paint Night at her church, I should have said no, but I shocked myself and said yes! I warned her that my painting might be the only abstract one in the group. She laughed. 

We walked into the hall, paid our $5 fee, grabbed a blank canvas, brushes of various sizes, containers for water and went and found a seat. The various colors of paint needed were already on the tables and foam plates to be used as our palettes. There were also clean up rags and t-shirts to keep our clothes paint-free.

This is what we would be painting this time:

The first thing we did was paint the entire canvas in the mottled background colors, including the sides. I used a 2-inch brush and had a very difficult time making the big strokes needed. Then we drew the circles for the faces and filled them in. We drew the outlines of the hats and chose our colors individually, so everyones was different. We were to use small, repetitive strokes for the beards, and that gave me lots of trouble (stupid Parkinson's) but I managed. 

Each part of the painting was divided into simple shapes; ovals for the eyes, noses and hands, rectangles for the sleeves and lantern, Hershey Kisses shapes for the feet. We worked on the top while the bottom dried and vice versa. 

The last thing we did was the highlights and outlines. The funny thing is the part I thought would give me the most problems, making thin lines, turned out to be the easiest. Two hours later, we were done. 

Can you find YumaBev?

We posed for a group photo and afterwards I asked the teacher if she'd consider doing a Parky Paint Night? It turns out she has her own Neurological disease, Multiple Sclerosis, but said she'd consider it.  

The one above the teacher painted during class.

And here's mine!

Parky Gnomes by YumaBev

Maybe this Parky CAN paint after all!!!!

I'm already looking forward to the next class. 


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Charging This Parky

Since I opted for the Medtronic Activa™RC rechargeable IPG to control my Parkinson's disease symptoms, I have to charge it regularly. I've become just like a cell phone and no, I don't have a plug in my chest. Instead it works using the same type of technology that the wireless cell phone chargers use (something to do with magnets and coils.)

The charging system consists of three pieces:

The power cord

The transformer, which is one of those black boxes that always seem to be attached to anything with a battery, like laptops, karaoke machines, etc.

And the charger with antenna attached

The power cord connects to the transformer, which connects to the charger, which then charges the charger. Got it? 

Why do I have that children's song about Bones playing in my head? "The toe bone's connected to the heel bone, the heel bone's connected to the leg bone..." Sorry, it's my warped sense of humor.

When the charger is fully charged, it will stop charging, so it's okay to leave it plugged into the wall outlet when not using it. 

Before I left the hospital, Joey, the Medtronic rep, showed me how to place the charger's antenna over the IPG implanted in my chest and which buttons to use. The top green button starts the charging process. The middle black button with an X, stops the charging process. The bottom button with the speaker symbol on it, turns the sound on or off. The two buttons on the side don't get used with DBS. 

That's it! Green for GO, X for STOP. Simple!

Joey also gave me some adhesive disks that go on the antenna to help hold it in place on my shirt. If you use the stickies, the antenna should NOT be placed directly on your skin. I'm still using the first sticky! 

Placing the antenna properly takes a bit of practice in order to get the maximum number of 'bars'. Eight bars will charge faster than six, four or two. The screen refreshes every 60-seconds.

The antenna also has a dial which you can turn to get more bars. 

The charger will beep at you if the antenna moves and drops to zero bars. The charger will also beep when your IPG is fully charged.

Fully charged 

Since my settings are very low (1.4/2.0) I could probably only recharge once a month. However, the more discharged the IPG is, the longer it will take to recharge it. I charge mine every Sunday. I figure it's an easy day for me to remember since I've already filled my weekly pill box on that day.

How long does it take? I'm not sure. I charge while I'm watching TV and haven't thought to pay much attention to the clock. If it beeps, I check to see if the antenna has moved, and usually the beep is the 'fully charged' beep.