The November Chronicles

I wrote earlier that there were some ... let's call them "adventures" ... in doing some of my tests while traveling down the road to confirm my diagnosis.

Today's "adventure" is gonna go straight down the toilet.

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It was recommended by my neurologist that blood work, a urinalysis, and an MRI be conducted to check for *any* other factors that could be behind my arm tremor.

You see - as of today anyway - one cannot get an eye scan, brain scan, have a blood count done or do ANY other test to confirm a diagnosis of Parkinson's Disease.  (It's one of maaaaaaaaaaany medical things I've learned as of late.)  One can do those tests and confirm other things, but there is no marker known where a conclusive diagnosis of Parkinson's can be made.  (This is kinda amazing, especially when one considers that Dr. James Parkinson first noted "Shaking Palsy" in 1817.)

The blood work was easy.  Four vials were taken by a Phlebotomist who, judging from her skill, had been practicing for decades.  I've only had an issue with needles once in my life, and (honestly) it was my doctor's fault.  (You should NEVER show a six year old the size of the needle used for a tetanus shot.)

So after the vials of blood were labeled and corked, I was given instructions regarding the procedures required for a proper urinalysis to be conducted.  When the collection was done, the sample would be tested for high amounts of copper, which could indicate abnormal liver function and/or Wilson's Disease (which can cause damage to the nervous system).

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Warning:  I will do my best to describe this tastefully and accurately.  I may not succeed in the former.

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I was told that my collection was to be a 24-hour sample, but not to include my first morning visit to the facilities, because really that's from the night before, I guess.  I was given a container which I'd use to hold the collection and a funnel-like device because ... because ... well because women and men are different, that's why.

None of that was what I envisioned to be my biggest problem.  No ... my biggest problem was going to be how one collects their - fluid output - for the day when one is at work.  I thought about it and decided the best course of action would be to not act at all, meaning no at-work bio-breaks whatsoever.

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That day for me went like this:

Wake up.
Get ready for work.
Feed pets.
Use facilities, no collection required.
Kiss Awesome Boyfriend before heading out the door.
Notice the skies seem kinda dark and cloudy.
Stop at coffee shop for usual order (20oz of Mocha).
Skip mid-morning 8oz hot chocolate.
Eat lunch kinda early (yogurt, granola bar) with hopes of "soaking up" fluid I'd taken in already.
Notice the skies are even darker now.
Also notice the soaking up fluid idea doesn't feel all that successful.
Sit at desk while sipping 18oz of fruit juice and eat second granola bar during actual lunch time.
Process invoices and ... is that rain on the window behind me?
Continue to process payments and try not to notice water STREAMING down the windows.
Sort through email to take mind off of virtual monsoon outside.
Glance disbelievingly at clock on wall, which says it is just 2:10pm.
Order office supplies, including batteries for obviously malfunctioning clock.
Seriously - it's like someone is standing on the roof with a hose or something.
Co-workers in office finally ask why I'm so edgy, so I share my plight with them.
Laughter ensues.
Note that laughter doesn't help with bladder pressure.
Manage to keep busy for rest of the day and ignore giant ark floating by my 3rd story window.
Walk to vehicle while dodging raindrops.
Drive home ... with windshield wipers on high and radio on loud.
Pull up into driveway and exhale for a moment.
Casually walk into home and greet Awesome Boyfriend.
Note Awesome Boyfriend has kindly cleared the path of any pets or obstacles between me and the facilities.
Take my time and act casual about NOT dashing into restroom.
Give up the "brave" act and use facilities while saying a small prayer of thanks for indoor plumbing.

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When I went to work the next day, I was treated like a superhero ... "Bionic Bladder Babe" or something like that.  I work in an office of all women and the consensus was that I was either brave for trying to do what I'd done (or, really, NOT done) or stupid ... even 'tho I'd succeeded at NOT doing what I had set out to NOT do.

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So that's the story behind the urinalysis I was asked to do.  The test results from it showed nothing unusual whatsoever, so we were able to rule out liver malfunction and Wilson's Disease.  My doctor and I were going to continue to work under the umbrella diagnosis of Parkinson's Disease and the Carbidopa/Levodopa route would be followed for the time being.  And, as I had noticed by this time, like it or not, the tremor was in fact responding to the medication.

Basically the only thing left standing between me and Parkinson's was the slim chance of something showing on the MRI.  As twisted and stupid as this will read, I secretly started to hope that the MRI would show a growth or tumor of some sort.  My reasoning was that at least a physical ... something ... could be operated on or removed or treated.

You see ... not only is there no test to conclusively diagnose Parkinson's, there's no treatment method to counteract or halt or reverse its progress.  And "progress" it does.