I will never forget the day I found out I had Parkinson Syndrome.

After going through so many tests from so many different doctors, you would think I would be well prepared for the diagnosis. But you are never prepared for such news. The shock was enormous. For days afterwards, I was upset and uneasy.

Months later, I went to a clinic that specializes in Parkinson Syndrome. During my four week stay, I was forced to confront my illness. In order to cope with it, I had to learn more about Parkinson. I cried a lot. Self pity and angst mixed together and built up within me. Despite the doctors' warnings not to compare my situation with other patients, I could not help but do so. I was depressed and helpless. The town where the clinic was located and its surroundings were lovely, but held no pleasure for me.

Like so many other patients, I kept asking, "Why, why me?" A question without an answer. In the beginning, the nights were unbearable. In the quiet of the night, in my mind's eye, I would see the other patients before me and wonder how they could accept their fate. A fate that I now shared with them. Against my will, I reluctantly took part in therapy sessions. I had plenty of free time, but I only wanted to read or write. There was no desire to undertake other activities.

After the second week, I started to regularly take the recommended medicine and my anger started to subside. I realized I had lost the war within myself. Only through discipline, could I learn how to accept this illness and lead a normal life.

My two adult sons were informed about my situation. They could only help me by giving me the feeling that despite everything, they still loved me. By the end of my stay at the clinic, I was actually able to talk to other patients and take part in activities. It was easy to say good-bye to the clinic. I was so happy to go home. With lots of patience and support, my husband had stood by me through all my anxieties. I knew I could count on his support. I was certain about one other thing; a new and unexpected life awaited me.

Every visit to the neurologist, every pill that I have to take, remains an ordeal. I am left with the hope that the illness will not progress too fast. I am skeptical with every change in medication. When I am tired in the morning, or when I have the feeling that I do not move as fast as usual, I get aggravated. Not to be able to move about as freely as before, hurts. Besides taking medicines, I do what every other normal person does, except now I know why I must, for example, do exercises and walk. I manage to lead a happy life.

Everyone who is afflicted with Parkinson's has the wish that scientists will continue making progress and that, in the future, this chronic illness can be cured.

The above is part of an article I wrote for the book entitled "Parkinson - na und?!" (Parkinson - so what?) This book is available through the Parkinson Klinik in Bad Nauheim, tel. (06032) 78 10.