02/08/2018
PARKINSONS/STEM CELLS
HOW DO YOU THINK THAT WORKS?
Let me tell you what it is doing for me. It will be three years in August since being diagnosed with Parkinson Disease. All along, blaming the rigidness and odd movements on the motorcycle accident four years prior, and of course, a very slight occasional tremer dating back a decade. Climbing from bed every morning is like slogging from a half-filled waterbed. No running, no skipping, and caution feeling descending the stairways. Those of us with PD surely understand.
The diagnoses of Parkinson Disease was actually a relief for there is a reason to this madness. Consumption of Carbodopa Levodopa prescription, for a brief time, gave a boost to the motorskills that were lost.
Now, skipping ahead, it’s been three days. Dr. Landers performed the stem cell therapy just three days ago. Briefly, and not so technical, it went something like this:
operating table........local anesthesia.....lipo su......60cc syringe to harvest 100cc’s...............centrifuge........SVF cells........IV......WAAALAAA
Something like 140 million stem cells available.
Yes, it’s been three days ago the stems cells were procured from my waistline, modified, and returned intravenously. Now I await. I await with hope of a pending revival of natural motion. It’s only day three, feelings of what they call buyers remorse sets in. It was an expensive procedure and my inherently frugal nature is in conflict with the thought, “I must get something for my money!” I want results.
On the fourth night, early morning I awoke as usual toward the bathroom and realized for a fleeting moment the ease of it all, but only for the moment, apprehensively excited returning to bed thinking, OMG when I get up I will be cured! Awoke two hours later thinking to myself this is easier climbing out of the bed, or is it? Wishing for that old pop in the step feeling. Just want to jump out of bed, standing tall with that bounce, not tilted forward, head down, bent towards a direction. But a bounce, a walk, a natural one. Not a forced determined movement.
On the fifth day, the weekly day of the week scheduled for errands, bank, grocery store, must do out and about day. The moments being plural, crossing the street and realizing my stride with arms swaying, well one arm swaying. Once realized, it suddenly becomes again me coordinating my movement, not of the natural .
