Parkinson's Disease: Now We Wait and See

I felt the prayers pouring in from across the nation; in fact, prayers from around the globe were being lifted up. As I entered surgery on Tuesday, March 2nd, I was calm, at peace, and curious as to how the whole thing was going to go.

Looking back on it almost a week later, it was a day of victory. It was a day of expectation. It was a day of humor. I could start right now and write for days, coming up for air occasionally to watch the blossoms of spring begin to unfold. And I will -- in fact, I am doing that already, I guess, with my next book almost ready to send out the door. Life didn't slow down just because I was in the hospital. In fact, when I returned home, I found orders for ten (10) books needing to be filled (see www.AuntRuthGrammar.com if you are curious) waiting for me.

Yes, the events of that great day in my life will be penned in some coherent form and will be published as a book. I haven't thought about the where's and how's yet. It's going to have to wait though until my current project is submitted.

It's worth writing about, though. Why? There's a message of hope in there. That message is for those who have Parkinson's and those who have loved ones with Parkinson's; that message is both implicit and explicit; that message is both focused and general.

What is the message? It's simple. Never, ever give up.

Why is that important with Parkinson's? Oops, I think I'm drifting too far away from the central topic of this article. That is, how did surgery last week go?

The staff at Duke, down to the last person I encountered, was phenomenal. Each person took such great pride in his or her role, regardless of whether I would remember names and faces later. From the surgeon and PA to the MRI team and to all the nurses, physical therapists, patient advocates, and everyone in between, I received wonderfully personal care.

Some of it was a blur, with me in a semi-conscious state as I went from "here to there." I remember the face of a male nurse who was with me in recovery after the surgery, and he was working hard to find me a room. I remember thinking, "This is a guy who really cares."

I won't go into all the details here, but basically it went as follows.

After being admitted, a frame was screwed into my skull in four places (two in front, two in back). The intent of the frame was to help provide a guide and baseline for the incisions and needles that were to follow. I was then wheeled down to MRI, and they took some pictures of the inside of my head.

That MRI (with the frame) was mapped onto another MRI (with tracing elements) that was done a couple weeks ago. The surgeon then conferred with a couple other neurosurgeons (around the country) as to the precise locations to drill the holes and do the injections.

Two holes, almost an inch in diameter each, were drilled into the top of my head. Ten injections of the virus were made. The holes were then covered back up with titanium plates. An MRI was done the following morning to look at the needle tracks and to determine whether everything went to the right place.

I spent one night in the hospital and then was sent home the following afternoon. The only pain medication I've
taken was tylenol, so I was able to avoid the whole "you're going to feel groggy for a few days afterward" thing. I even went to church on Sunday (March 7th).

I still get tired pretty easily and have been taking naps, not part of my normal routine, and that extra sleep seems to be helping too.

As far as Parkinson's symptoms go, I don't feel different yet, honestly. I'll have to wait and see. It could take months.

I am excited, though. This is the most promising thing that has come along in the ten years since I was diagnosed. I am hopeful.

And book or no book, I will let you know how it's progressing.

Thanks for the prayers; thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for offering hope.