Another Reason I Can’t POSSIBLY Have Parkinson’s

I would love to give credit for this post, but I can’t identify who wrote it. It appeared in this months Northwest Parkinson’s Foundation newsletter.  Enjoy!

My Parkinsons’ Disease Diary

OK, we already know that caffeine is supposedly neuroprotective and has a role in preventing Parkinson’s disease. I’ve been drinking coffee since I was 14. I have Parkinson’s.

We already know that nicotine is supposedly neuroprotective and has a role in preventing Parkinson’s disease. I’ve been a cigar smoker since I was 17. I have Parkinson’s.

Here’s a NEW reason why I can’t possibly have PD.

People who regularly take the over-the-counter painkiller ibuprofen may have a lower risk of getting Parkinson’s disease, a new study says. Researchers from the Harvard School of Public Health studied more than 136,000 people over six years and asked them about their use of aspirin, ibuprofen and acetaminophen, which are all classified as non-steroid anti-inflammatory drugs, or NSAIDs.

During the study, 293 people developed Parkinson’s disease. That’s 0.2 percent of the people. The researchers said in a news release [that people who took] ibuprofen were 40 percent less likely to develop Parkinson’s disease than people who didn’t [take it]. Also, people who took higher amounts of ibuprofen were less likely to develop Parkinson’s disease than people who took smaller amounts of the drug. The results were the same regardless of age, smoking and caffeine intake, they said.

I’ve been a regular taker of ibuprofen since my late 20s when I first developed arthritis in one of my knees. So, if this is all true…

I can’t POSSIBLY have Parkinson’s disease.

So, what the heck is my neurologist talking about?

The Invisible Reality of Parkinson’s Disease

There have been many stories coming my way lately, regarding the made up scenarios of Parkinson’s disease. What I mean is this – some are being told by their spouses or other caregivers that their faking it or it’s all in their head (no pun intended). Some are going to the doctor, only to have the doctor (not a specialist in PD) tell them – the patient – that they’re just going through a phase of depression and eventually, they’ll get over it.

Let me tell you a tidbit of my story… At the age of 30 or so, I started having some things go wrong – healthwise. I was getting extremely tired. My eye began being weird. I suppose you could say that was the symptom that got me to the doctor. The eye doctor.

Before my eye exam, I explained what was going on. My eye would burn terribly and hurt and then I was seeing these little ‘fireball’ type objects. I likened them to the fireballs in the Mario Brothers Nintendo games. During an eye exam, my eye doctor slid over to the light switch on his little black stool and flipped the lights on. Something he had never done before.

“Has anyone in your family ever had MS?”

My heart sank. “No.”

At that response, he went down the hall and brought the ophthalmologist back with him. Off went the lights and the ophthalmologist examined my eye (the other doctor was an optometrist. The lights came back on again.

“Your optic nerve is hemorrhaging. What your’re seeing and is making your eye burn is blood.”

According to the two doctors standing there, Multiple Sclerosis, Rheumatoid Arthritis, and Lupus can often begin with what was happening inside my eye. However, there was one other thing it could have possibly been and they immediately had me come back in the morning to have an MRI of my brain done, to make sure it wasn’t a brain tumor pushing on my optic nerve. An MRI would also show if there was any build up of myelin on my brain – another symptom of MS. The MRI came back negative for a brain tumor but showed some slight myelin build up – a symptom of MS if the build had been greater.

Eventually, they called it Lupus and treated me accordingly for it. Ten years later, I was diagnosed with Young Onset Parkinson’s disease. The symptoms have been consistent with all I’ve read about PD. I think they got it right this time around.

The point of me telling you ‘my’ story, is to show you that often times, certain diseases may ravage our bodies and never be seen with the naked eye. No one else could see my eye hemorrhaging and what was causing the awful burning I could feel (and see!). But it was real.

And now I have PD, as do so many others who thought they were signing up for one thing, only to find out they were given another. A life of leisure gone wrong.

What does PD look like? That all depends. First of all, it is different for everyone who has it. Some may shake uncontrollably – all the time – while others shake less but have terrible back and/or shoulder pain. Some can smell the slightest fragrance, while others bemoan the fact that their sense of smell has disappeared completely. Some sing to strengthen their disappearing voice, while others take speech lessons (or talk to themselves).

Some have a difficult time with speech, walking, etc. However, most people don’t and most likely won’t ‘see’ this.

You won’t see the restless legs that keep them awake half the night, pacing the floor to get it to stop. You may miss seeing when your PD person falls and scratches up their forearms and elbows.

You won’t see them struggle while getting dressed because they want to try to do it themselves just one more time. You won’t see how it becomes harder and harder to swallow their medications.

The fact is, you won’t see a lot symptoms common for PD or MS or Lupus, etc.k, even if they are visible, because you may not really understand the disease or know what to look for. But, the PD patient is fully aware of what is going on inside of them and no one believes them because they can’t see it and think they’re faking that they have the disease because they badly want attention..

May I ask a favor? Don’t dispute what they are trying to tell you or are dealing with. To lose the support of a spouse who thinks you’re merely putting on an act can be devastating to the one suffering. If you’re in denial over what your spouse has been diagnosed with, seek out a support group for caregivers.

Whatever you do, don’t push their diagnosis away and pretend nothing’s wrong. Believe them or they’ll seek support somewhere else. Is that really what you want?

And PD person, if you’ve got a doctor that doesn’t believe what you’re telling him, get a new doctor.

To All the Natumbawums of the World… Thank you!

A caregiver.

A carepartner.

Care: to worry about, be mindful of or mind to, think about, be bothered about, give attention to, think of, nurture, tend to.

Giver: donate to, provide for, supply.

Partner: companion, have a connection with, united with.

Judy wants another name for a caregiver/carepartner for certain people not directly involved with taking care of us (so to speak), and yet they ‘care’ for us. So I have set out on the task of trying to come up with the perfect word. Here’s what I’ve got thus far:

- a worrying companion

- a provider who is mindful of me

- a bothered provider

- an attentive donater

- a nurturing companion

- a tending connector

- a thoughtful unifier

- a worrisome supplier

There are several variations that we could come up with. At first I thought of a caregiver being one with a heart of love. A lovegiver or a lovepartner. Axed those immediately. Too many other connotations.

So I consulted one of my favorite resources – my Thesaurus. Hence, the list above on what the word ‘caregiver/carepartner’ implies when broken down. However, when I think of the word caregiver or carepartner, the synonyms suggested by my Thesaurus didn’t do justice to a person whom we, as PD’ers, value greatly. This is one time I think that old book has failed me.

What image or thoughts do you conjure up when you hear the word ‘caregiver’ or ‘carepartner’? Someone who worries about you? Provides your care? Is a companion, unified in the effort to make life easier? Is s/he thoughtful? Supplies for your needs?

I simply cannot get excited about any of Thesaurus’ suggestions. So – then I thought of using an acrostic. Here is what I came up with, using the first letters of key words from the synonyms of my search:

w – c- p – b – o – g – h – p – a – d – n – t – u – w – m – b – a – s – c – w – u

Those are my letter options. Here’s what I could make out of them (you may be able to find more):

Duwamptum – pronounced doo-wump-tum

Cabubasud – pronounced ca-bubba-sud

Natumbawum – pronounced nah-tum-bah-wum

Gobasaw – pronounced go-buh-saw

Chugawa – pronounced chuh-guh-whuh

Waspogump – pronounced wasp-o-gump

Bushcamut – pronounced bush-ka-mutt

Donutchamp – pronounced do-nut-champ

Bashadapd – pronounced bash- duh -pee-dee

Gorchabam – pronounced gore-chuh-bam

Well, in scanning over my list, I can’t seem to find a word that represents the love, concern, care, and kindness that comes from those that care for us indirectly by offering encouragement, support, love, patience, concern, and so much more. The closest seems to be a Natumbawum.

So, for now, unless someone comes up with a better word, to those who offer endless encouragement to keep pressing on, support when we need strength to literally stand, patience when we want to do it ourselves, love when we don’t act very loveable, gentleness when we are broken and hurting, wit and wisdom when we’re not in our right minds, and so much more, we thank you all.

In short, without all of our Natumbawums, we couldn’t make it. We give your our heartfelt thanks.