I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease 5 months ago.

Seven months ago, I was also diagnosed with 2 slipped discs and arthritis in my back.

If it’s not one thing, it’s another! If not mental then physical!

Wow!

So-o-o, in addition to my ongoing mental therapy, I have seen a chiropractor, a medical doctor, a neurosurgeon, a neurologist – and I am currently getting care from a physical therapist, an occupational therapist and a speech therapist!

The place I go to for treatment of my Parkinson’s disease is well known for it’s excellent therapy.  I go 3 times a week and I am given things to do at home.

With a lot of hard work and hope,  I can beat this disease.

One cold day in January 1978, I decided to go to a church in Delaware to celebrate Martin Luther King’s birthday.

I arrived in Wilmington, parked my bright green VW and walked around the streets.

I heard church bells but I could not find a church. Up one street and down the next, I kept walking and listening and looking but still did not find a church.

Eventually, I decided to go home but I could not find my car.

I thought, “I know what I’ll do…I’ll walk home and it will be a peace walk in honor of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.”

I started walking on the inter-state highway and a state trooper pulled up and told me I was not allowed to walk on the inter-state.  I left the inter-state and started to follow some railroad tracks.

At one point my step-father and mother just happen to be going under a bridge and saw me.  My step-father got out of the car and yelled to me, “Your killing your mother!”

I yelled back, “I have to keep walking!”

I remember I had on my heavy winter jacket, suit, and dress shoes.

I walked about 10 miles and found a road that was familiar. I walked another 15 miles to get home.

When I got home I took off my shoes and my feet were covered with blisters.

The next day my sister and I went back to Delaware and found my car which was covered with parking fines.

You might say this was one of my manic phases.

In  the summer of 1960, my dad and I left early one morning to travel to a town in New Jersey to pick up ice cream supplies for the two ice cream trucks we had.

I was 6 years old and just a little guy. I had on my large Phillies baseball hat, Phillies tee shirt, Phillies shorts and Converse sneakers.

When we reached the ice cream warehouse, my dad said, “Look son, there’s the breakfast truck.”

Dad ordered a cup of coffee and lit a smoke. He told me to get whatever I wanted.

I was so short I could not see in the truck.  The man put his head out the window and looked down at me and asked me what I wanted.  I looked up at him and said “Well what you got?”

Then I looked back at my Dad and he was smiling.  Then I looked back at the man and he asked me again what I wanted.  I said again “Well what you got?”

I looked back at my Dad and he started laughing.  I looked back at the man and he was looking right at me and I said “How about a glazed doughnut?”

Then I said “I need something to drink with this”.  The man said “What can I get you to drink?”  I said “Well what you got?”

Then I said “How about a chocolate milk?”

It was one of those special moments I had with my dad when he was healthy.

One type of therapy is “one on one”.

Another is hospital therapy.

Another, out-patient therapy in a program.

Another: lying on a couch.

Another – sipping tea while sitting in a chair.

Another…group therapy.

Shock therapy.

Pain therapy.

Medication therapy.

It took all these therapies over the years to become normal.

Types of therapy are different for everybody.

I have been given the best of care and in my blog I hope to pass that on to other people!