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5/5/01
PD-TV: The old man's eyes flickered open as his trembling hand reached out to the night stand. He picked up the remote and began looking for something worthwhile to watch on TV. His medicines had been changed recently and he was still getting adjusted to the sometime unpredictable side effects and found it hard to stay awake. He started to drift off again when he thought he heard the TV announcer say "... out of five patients with PD prefer WHOOPS adult diapers for those times when timing is important to YOU". "What kind of commercial was this?" he muttered to himself as he looked at the remote to see what channel he had been watching. In the upper left corner of the remote, there was a yellow button he had never noticed before that had the letters PD-TV on it. He pushed the button and the television screen went black. He pushed the button again and then the channel-changer on the remote: <Click> (and there was the starting title of a movie called "CHRIS KINESIA - PD DETECTIVE") "Help me, please. I'm stuck and I can't move!" Chris shouted. At least, he "thought" he was shouting as his whispered whimper perished swiftly in the evening breeze there on the simmering sidewalk. His disability seemed to be looming larger these days and placing him in perilous predicaments such as this. It was late afternoon when he had thought to go downtown to his office to review his latest case file. As he walked along, his somber stroll was turning into a slow shuffle, he observed, as he thought of his medicine back on the kitchen counter. His mind and body seemed to be hanging on by a thin thread at times like these. As he struggled to retain his sense of sanity, he tried to think that this time could only be better than the time when... As Kinesia moved about his office with the uncontrollable motions that are a side-effect to his medicine, he let everybody in the office (at present, only Anne O' Reksik, the recently hired and very thin receptionist) know that he was "on" and ready to start the day. The intercom buzzer sounded and Anne said "Chris, there's a gentleman here to see you". Chris shouted through the wall "Send him in!" as he finished rearranging his pencils after having sharpened each one several times (an early morning habit). Chris was tapping his fingertips at an ever increasing tempo as the stranger entered the room, his hand extended. "Mr. Kinesia, it's a pleasure to get to finally meet you..my name is ..... irrelevant at this time" ("What a strange name" Chris thought to himself "and the fact that this name may somehow change yet again at an undetermined time made this Mister E. Relevant a candidate for closer observation). "Surely you understand" the man said. ("Word games" Chris thought. "First he refuses to give me a stationary name and now he's calling me Shirley") "Please sit down, Mister...um...I'm not very good at guessing games...Laverne?" Chris said uncertainly casting his hat into the ring to see where this conversation was heading. <Click> In an obvious attempt to cash in on "reality TV", we came up with the idea of survivors of chronic illnesses competing with each other and offer "a possible cure" for the winner. Contestants will spend 24 hours unassisted and must feed and medicate themselves and attend to their own basic needs while attempting to compete for much-needed medicine. As with the other illnesses, caregivers will not be allowed within 100 yards of their patient during this time. This week, we're featuring ....Parkinson's Disease. This is a great one folks. Imagine if you will a disease with no known cause or cure striking someone at any age and slowly robbing them of their ability to ever live a normal life again. Now, try and imagine how these people's lives have slowly shrunk to just a few people they hope they can still count on while their hopes and dreams become a silent prayer just to "take me now, I can't take another day in this body having to live like this!". But, as you know, there is another day and guess what?....sometimes it seems to be a little harder than the last one. Yes, folks, we all have troubles...so let's get started. Let's meet the contestants. Johnny, wheel them out... From Bent Spoon, Oklahoma, he was a doctor and father of five who retired on disability 8 years ago. He's 48, 6 feet tall and weighs 137 pounds...he says his turn-ons are warm clean underwear and regular BMs.......let's give it up for Lenny. From Mud Puddle, Minnesota, she is recently divorced (we'll find out why, you can bet) and mother of two teenagers. She's 5'-1", 95 pounds and won't give her age...she says her turn-ons are sleeping more than four hours at a time and disposable adult diapers....let's give a big welcome to Eileen. From Incontinent, Kentucky, he is a high school student and lives at home with his parents and a kid sister. He's 16, almost 6 feet tall, and weighs 139 pounds....his turn-ons are "dyskinetic disco dancing" and girls.....let's give a warm hello to Carl. From Los Lozenges, California, she was a housewife and mother of two boys. She's 54 years old, 5'-2" tall, 105 pounds and says her turn-ons are large TVs and old movies...let us welcome Doreen. (As the live studio audience applause dies down, the lights come on illuminating the rooms where these people will spend the next 24 hours trying to fend for themselves as they compete for the basic necessities to "survive") <Click> "...and as we enter the final round of Lethargy, let us remind those viewers just tuning in that the contestants have been denied their meds for 8 hours prior to the show and are competing in a "meeting of the minds" for the chance of winning a year's supply of the PD medicine of their choice..now let's get back to the game. Special translators are available to each contestant to speed up the game if mumbling becomes a problem." Julie, pick a topic. "Stan, I'll pick PARKING SPACES for $100" "All right, Julie, you were driven here by your caregiver just two hours ago....for $100, where is your car parked?" "Damn, I think....wait.....what was the question?" <Click> "I'll get straight to the point, Mr. Kinesia...you're sticking your nose where it don't belong" the man suddenly snarled at him. Chris' first thought was that he had forgotten to close his curtains recently but he tried not to show panic. His "on-time" (when his meds were most effective) was shutting down earlier than usual. If he didn't take his meds soon, he might "switch off" during mid-sentence. However, they sat on a table at the stranger's side and were thus out of Chris' immediate reach. Chris said nothing as he felt his dexterity begin to disappear along with his annunciation and volume. "Old man Dupont has had enough of your meddling in his family's pharmaceutical forays" the stranger continued. Chris had been the impetus behind a recent case involving Dupont and fake PD-med shipments (with clever names like Cinnamet, Elder pill, Nascar, Mere-Effects).....the case had nearly spelled Chris' demise were it not for the fact that no ropes in the world could hold him when his dyskinetic squirming kicked into high gear. "A mutual friend, Mr. Keebler, told me you're a tough cookie but you look as if you're ready to crumble right now" the stranger suddenly shouted at him as he pulled a pistol from underneath his coat. Chris, his brain now pleading with him to take his meds, sat staring blankly at the stranger with the gun as Anne suddenly entered the room with papers for him to sign. The stranger suddenly stood up, pressed the gun against Anne's head and said "This'll be my insurance policy against any future involvement in our affairs" (word on the street was that Dupont had a sweat-shop down on the docks where newly-diagnosed young people with PD were being held hostage and given more of their normal meds than usual in order to get the most work out of them and then abandoned in the streets when they had outlived their "medicinal honeymoon"). <Click> "Shake a leg, get out of that chair, shove that walker out of the way, and get your bony self down to L D. Pryll's New and Used Cars. Heck, you and I both know you won't be driving anymore in the near future so why not go for that "last drive" in one of these beauties. These aren't like those new cars made of aluminum and plastic ... no, these cars are old...like you!" "So cash that Disability check, rifle through your couch cushions and passenger seats and come on down and let's deal..." <Click> "And to insure that you won't follow us" he mumbled as he put the gun in Anne's ribs. "Put his hands behind his back and circle them several times with this" he said as he handed her the Scotch-tape on Chris' desk "do the same with his feet". He saw Chris look over at the table at the bottle of meds and grabbed them holding them in front of Chris' eyes. "Looking for these?" he teasingly taunted. " He pulled a lighter from his pants pocket and held it against the plastic container until the two pieces began to melt together. When it cooled down enough, the stranger stuck the bottle in Chris' front pocket and then had Anne stuff the remaining space with paper clips, wads of paper from his trashcan, and some single-edge razor blades he found in Chris' desk. Then he tightened Chris' belt several holes past where he usually fastened it (how cruel of this man to know the things that frustrated Chris). While the intruder stepped back and gloated at Chris' dilemma, Chris looked over at Anne. She directed her gaze towards a bowl of candy on the corner of his desk and then at him. Chris knew this meant something but in his present physical state could not put the pieces together. The man instructed Chris to lie on the floor on his stomach. Chris, by now, was in dire need of his meds collapsed to the floor immediately. Anne was instructed to put a heavy dictionary on top of his hands crossed behind his back (to add to the humiliation of a a grown man already thwarted by scotch tape and a pocket full of office supplies). The stranger squatted down beside Chris with a small box that he shook vigorously and said "Mr. Kinesia, it's been a thrill but I want to leave you with a special something". He shook the container and fire ants spilled out on the floor by Chris' feet. "My, they look angry" he said as he turned and left, dragging Anne along to his waiting car outside. <Click> "Come on down" the host shouted to the contestants. "This is where you'll be spending the next 24 hours in these four rooms enclosed by a glass dome with film cameras to catch every wild and wacky moment". "You'll notice that in the center of the space is a 12' diameter circular bathroom with one exposed toilet in the center. There is one door which rotates at random intervals to allow bathroom access from each of the three rooms (the bedroom, the living area, and the kitchen/dining area)....but only one at a time." "Next is the dining/kitchen area..at first glance, just more of the same until you see your refrigerator is tilted to the rear about 15 degrees which is enough to shift the contents to the back while making it difficult to open our specially weighted door...all the cabinets have childproof locks on them (turning to the audience "Just look at them starting to get a little nervous") ........the microwave is broken, none of the pilot lights have been lit, and the floor has been recently waxed." "Then there's the bedroom where each of you have been assigned a custom built bed...the mattress is a full foot shorter than your one at home with a sagging spot in the middle (again to the audience) that has trapped many a previous contestant" <Click> "Got some meds lying around now that your loved one has passed? Well, turn them into cash at Meds-R-Us, the leader in used medicine. Yes, we're slashing prices on all your favorite PD-meds and with more and more people diagnosed each year, we expect to be around for a LONG time." "So, put down that can of dog food, go to your medicine cabinet and bring everything you no longer need to Meds-R-Us, located at the corner of Opportunity and Knox, behind St. Substantia School for Stubbled Youth right next to...." <Click> (sound of cheezy-organ music) "The doctor said I
have... Parkinson's Disease" Glenda cried out. "What did the doctor
say?" he asked. (sound of cheezy-organ music as the announcer says, "We'll be right back on AS THE STOMACH CHURNS") <Click> Chris was aware that as far as bad days go, this one looked like a shoo-in for first place. His mind was foggy, his whole body felt weak and he wanted to be any other place right n....OW! The fire ant had found the inside of Chris's pant leg and had bitten up just above his sock line. He hadn't felt a pain like that in a long time. He tried to focus on the situation at a time when both his brain and his body felt like they were slowly being encased in jello. He thought to himself "...sock line..traveling up...next is ..". Chris' eyes flew open and with a Karate-type shout rolled violently and flipped over to his back. His body struck the edge of his desk and the bowl of candy scattered across the floor. His mind raced back to Anne's first day when she walked in to help him with some light filing just as Chris was shaking his PD-meds into his palm. He had dumped them quickly into the bowl of hard candy that sat on the corner of his desk, with the intention of retrieving them later. As Chris felt more comfortable sharing his PD-struggles with her, he had told her the story and laughingly referred to the meds (now seemingly stuck to the hard candies) as his "candy treats for fellow PDers". Now, as he lay on his back struggling in vain to free his hands scotch-taped behind him, he stared across the floor at some of the same meds that were at present hopelessly trapped in his pants pocket. These were scattered among the hard candies in front of him. "First things first" Chris mumbled to himself as his tongue reached out and snagged a nearby lemon drop. He sucked on it briefly and then spit it down towards his feet where it rolled across several fire-ants before coming to rest. He wiggled his body like a snake as he slowly slithered across the floor, snatching several other candies and spitting them towards the mass of fire ants whose "sweet tooth" now took precedence over the taste of Chris' body. He reached one of the candies with his meds riding piggyback on and with some tongue gymnastics, flipped it around, freeing the meds from its captor. Spitting the candy toward the others, he chewed the pills, knowing his meds would soon "set him free". <Click> (sound of applause dying down) Thank you, on today's SLEEZA show, our guests are going to be confronted by friends who say: "SHE THINKS SHE'S ALL THAT SINCE HER PALLIDOTOMY" Before we bring the first guest on, let's hear from a few of her friends....Marlene? "Thank you, SLEEZA, well, life was much simpler when Betty just sat in her chair stone-faced and tremored uncontrollably..my boyfriend and I would come over and visit her caregiver and other than mumbling or drooling, she was pretty docile. But ever since her pallidotomy last month, she's been flirting with my boyfriend ..... wiggling her posterior whenever she gets up to use the bathroom by herself...she also keeps showing him her steady hands and smiling every opportunity she gets...she told me shortly after her surgery, "Girlfriend, let me tell you...I wasn't deaf these last few years...I could hear men in my Support Group mumbling things like "she's got a nice swing in her backyard" or "I'd like to share a bottle of Sinemet with that one"... <Click> "Honey" he called out from upstairs "fix me a Sinemet Sling, will 'ya?". Jane frowned as she thought of the last PD party they'd been to where her brilliant husband had downed four of those drinks. He'd been so "on" that he actually proposed to just run along side of the car on the way home. His nonstop chatter and fidgeting had tempted her to let him try. Tom sat on the edge of the bed looking at his clothes folded across the room from him and thought "This really pisses me off...I can't move....I'm so off right now". Right then, Jane walked in and recognizing his state asked "How about a lift?". Tom blinked twice and managed to twist his face into what he hoped looked like a smile to her. Jane walked over to the dresser and got out the hand mirror and grabbed a couple of 25/100s and a razor blade and went to work... <Click> ...if you're just turning into our PD Survivor show (#3 in our Chronic Illness Series...we'll tell you how to order at the break), let us bring you up to date. Eileen won the prize for unannounced Clean Underwear Stains Check...that one really shows who's taking Tasmar and who isn't...she tied Carl in the Tongue Twister Contest. They both successfully made it through "Paul Parker put Peter's Parkinson's papers past previous paltry publications" and "Cindy's Sinemet sent sinful sensations slithering southward" Carl displayed his youthful hijinks early on as he applied butter to all the other contestants walkers and wheelchairs(which made for quite a few captivating entries for our "World's Worst PD Falls") but was caught unexpected by a sucker punch from Lenny delivered as Carl was waking from yet another catnap. Carl, just another hungry teen, is at present in the kitchen trying as best he can to open the refrigerator door. Doreen showed her stuff at the "Opening Those Twist Ties Off The Loaf Of Bread" contest and declined to try and triple her win by "Opening A Half-Gallon Carton Of Milk In Under 2 Minutes" Lenny had won the Karoke contest ..or should we say "Croak-ee" ...but decided to try and double the amount of Sinemet he had won by playing the Super Pill Bottle Challenge where all the contestant has to do is push down while turning the cap to open a large bottle of Sinemet ....let's replay the interview we did with Lenny after his failed attempt. "...I don't think this was such a good idea after all...I really needed that Sinemet..can't you give me just a 10/100 to suck on? ... one of my arms feels kinda numb...." <Click> "...and as the winner of today's Lethargy Sweepstakes, you'll get to step into our wind-tunnel of pills or bills. Jeffrey, what'll it be? "Well, Peter, as an old hippie friend of mine with PD used to say "Meds will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no meds." so lose the bills and bring on the pills .... tonight, it'll be "raining meds" (Ladies Levodopa Choir
sings out to a pulsing disco beat) "Tasmar, Eldepryl, Comtan, Sinemet, Amantadine ... just to name a few of the pills spinning crazily around you as you struggle to grab as many as you possibly can in two minutes to..." <Click> ...as Chris stepped off the fire escape and made his way to the skylight centered far above the frantic workers' heads, he realized he could see most of Dupont's layout from this rooftop vantage point. A lot of the workers were young...kidnapped from outside Young PWP Support Group meetings over a three county area in the last two months....they all were working at an incredible rate of speed as their hands packed bottles of something into large boxes which were then shut, sealed, and stacked on pallets in the corner of the warehouse. Chris had spoken with one of the discarded workers found a week ago on the other side of town swilling small bottles of liquid Sinemet and contorting his muscles in what appeared to be a one-man wrestling match. The man babbled mostly but Chris heard the words "Dupont" and "wharf" and knew he was face-to-face with one of Dupont's "Parkinsonian pawns". He also learned through one of his "snitches" that the drinking fountains and water coolers in the warehouse were supplemented with liquid Sinemet in an effort to control those workers who pretended to swallow the meds passed out every two hours by Dupont's flunkies. The stench of sweat and dopamine wafted upward as the sounds of the Sinemet slaves below mixed with the sounds of footsteps and...footsteps? As Chris turned, he heard a click as something smooth and metallic was pressed against his temple. A familiar voice spoke: "Ah, Mr. Kinesia .... so nice of you to join us" (as everything went black...) <Click> "In today's hustle-and-bustle world of dot-bomb businesses and power-brunches, are people with PD causing your business to lose your edge due to an inordinate amount of time spent having to accommodate them so that they can continue working?" "Well, no more will you be forced to look at their expressionless face and trembling extremities or hear them come up with yet another excuse as to why they think they can hide behind the Americans-We-Don't-Like-To-Even-Think-About Act." "Our manual will teach you how to: * Chip away at their
self-esteem So, send $29.95 today for Disability Discrimination For Dummies"..." <Click> .....Chris' head started to clear as he gazed across the warehouse floor at the mysterious Mr.E. Relevant, his early-morning visitor, with his gun aimed at the hooded figure of a very skinny woman who most probably was Anne. "You just don't learn, do you?" he snarled as Chris pondered the truthfullness of that remark "... these people had no real purpose in their lives anymore ... I'd see them going to their once-a-month support group meetings where they would go to hear boring speakers talk about how to make the best of their final days ... well, forget that .... I give them somewhere to go to burn off their dyskinetic energy among others in the same predicament and all the free meds they can handle ....." While the man continued to rant, Chris moved ever closer to a fire-alarm pull-station he had noticed on the wall just a few feet from the light switch to his right. All the frenzied activity around them seemed to stop as Anne's sudden scream pierced the air ... then as if in slow motion, Chris leapt toward the wall with both hands as one hand brought darkness to the room and the other alerted the ..." <Click> ... "PD Cruise Lines will get you there in style ...we leave Los Lozenges on the S.S. Sinemet on a lovely 2-day cruise to Cancan, Texico where you'll visit Farmer-Sue-Tickles market (the world's first outdoor market to feature continuous grab-bars for customer safety) where you can purchase those incredibly cheap PD-meds you keep hearing about.... while others may choose to stay aboard ship and participate in walker races, memory contests (What's Your Room Number?), and..." <Click> ...unsure what to get that special someone with PD? Well that's how Irene Footwrap of Biscuitville, Oklahoma felt about her friend, Suzanne Trenchmouth and she contacted the OKRAH show. "Irene, tell us what Suzanne was like when you'd stop by to visit her on your lunch break from the asbestos factory." "Well, OKRAH, I'd constantly tell her to get out and do something...I mean, all she did was sit there doing nothing ....she would stare blankly at me .... when she had enough of listening to me, her trembling hands would hold up a notice in bold type a friend had helped her with that said "TALK TO THE TREMOR!". (OKRAH chimes in) "Oh girl, my grannie used to say the same thing" "It really annoys me that her medical coverage is barely keeping her alive... my lord, she's been living on generic meds so long, I'm sure she's forgotten what the real thing tastes like anymore .... and I wanted to surprise her today on your show and tell her how her life is gonna change" "Well, we're going to send you backstage while we bring Suzanne out of the special soundproof chamber ... Suzanne is not aware of much this trip to the big city though she was heard to whisper on her way backstage, "Dodo, we're not in Biscuitville anymore". "Suzanne, we understand you've compiled a list of "some of the things you'd like to do if you could" and if it's allright with you, I'll read some of them in no particular order: " "Walk along the beach at sunset, dance, fall asleep under a shady tree, go to an outdoor concert, fly a kite, read a book, play with a puppy or kitten,.....wait a second, are you allright?" OKRAH asked as the tears flowed silently down Suzanne's face. "It's just not right to bring me on and parade things in front of me that are gone... I'm just an old woman from Biscuitville, Oklahoma who can't even afford to pay attention" as her shoulders silently shook. "Well, your friend Irene contacted the OKRAH Show about your situation and what she felt you needed most in your life...." OKRAH said as Suzanne's face lit up. "A cure for PD?, money to pay for surgery?, help paying my medical bills?, a new wheelchair?, satin sheets?.... " OKRAH continued "....a PD-makeover!" (as the audience explodes with applause and Suzanne begins crying uncontrollably with the camera zooming out as the promo for tomorrow's show begins) "....next time on OKRAH: The Elderly - Possible Fuel Source?" <Click> As the rain started to subside, the woman got up to check on her father in the next room. As she had predicted, the young boy had fallen asleep amidst the jumble of crayons and colored paper. The old man lay there looking straight ahead at the foot of his bed with a TV-remote in one hand. She wiped the drool from her father's mouth and brushed his hair from in front of his eyes. "Dad" she chuckled "don't most people usually have a television to go with one of those?". As she took the remote from his hand and placed it on the tray table, she noticed a yellow piece of paper stuck to one of his fingertips. She removed the piece of construction paper and turned it over. Written on it in a child's handwriting were the letters "PD-TV". |
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