Julie's Mobility Service Dog

My name is Julie Fitzgerald.  It’s not easy to share my story and even harder to ask for donations. However, another fall yesterday, strengthened my resolve to reach out. If the AT&T guy had not been there I might have laid on the sidewalk for hours. This scared me and reinforced the need for a mobility service dog.

I’d like to share my journey with you and give you a glimpse into what life is like with Parkinson’s disease.  (PD).  I was diagnosed 4 years ago at age 55.  PD sucks, there’s no better way to put it.

I noticed my hands shaking occasionally.  I saw several specialists and had a complete work-up.  I was told, it was essential tremors, nothing to worry about.   Eight years later, the tremors were nearly constant. Co-workers commented: I looked “stone faced” and mad in meetings. Then it happened.  During my presentation in front of a large audience of my peers, I froze mid-sentence. In my mind, I knew what to say next but my mouth simply wouldn’t cooperate.  I couldn’t form the words.  I was literally stuck.  Fortunately, it only took about 45 seconds before I could get the words out. My co-workers thought I paused for effect! Whew! Other job duties were also proving to be challenging and my supervisor was less than thrilled.

Something was wrong, but what? I did what every other normal person does.   I researched my symptoms on the Internet. Aha, hyperthyroidism can cause tremors. Maybe, my thyroid medication was too high. My doctor told me my thyroid was fine but thought a specialist should take a look at my tremors.  She sent me to a Movement Disorder Specialist. Internet information is great until you read something you don’t like. A quick Google search later and the search results all said the same thing; Movement Disorder Specialists treat PD. Wait………whaaaaaattttt? There’s got to be a mistake here, a big mistake.  How soon could I get an appointment so I could dispel this nonsense?

I saw the Movement Disorder Specialist. Two hours later, I was diagnosed with PD.  I’m sure the earth stopped spinning. This couldn’t be happening to me.  She told me she’d take good care of me and to try not to worry.  “Try not to worry?”  You just told me I have an incurable and degenerative disease, why would I be worried?  Complete and utter devastation were followed by lots and lots of tears and Why ME’s.  I tried to be brave, honestly I did.  The hardest part was telling my kids.  They were devastated and scared too.

My doctor’s first plan of action was prescription medication(s).  I had to take so many pills.  There were pills to take with food, without food, every 3 hours, every 6 hours and at bedtime. I had to get one of those pill holders with days and times on them and set a reminder to keep the medication and times straight. Uggghhh, I felt old. The medications were making me sick. They were supposed to make things better but had side effects like, nausea, headaches and fatigue.  The notes from the pharmacy including warnings the medication could also make me sleepy or drowsy during the day and at the same time might make me anxious. Hell, I’d been anxious, since the words “I’m sorry but you have Parkinson’s” came out of the doctor’s mouth.

The medications didn’t work well enough so the doctor recommended Deep Brain Stimulation surgery (DBS).  By now I was so numb nothing seemed to shock me, not even brain surgery.  The surgery would help control the tremors and other PD symptoms.  I thought, “Surely, this doctor is out of her mind. She wants to put metal probes into the deepest part of my brain and attach the wires two batteries buried in my chest to make my life better?  I have to shave my hair too? And she’s going to wake me up in the middle of the surgery and talk to me so you can make sure the probe is placed properly?”  Let me think about that for a second…no, HELL no.   I also I knew didn’t have much of a choice. DBS was my best option to protect the neurotransmitters that still work. I had the surgery the following month.


I confess until I was diagnosed, all I knew about PD was what I read in the media about Michael J. Fox and Muhammad Ali.  I thought having Parkinson’s only meant having uncontrollable tremors.  PD is often thought of as an old person’s disease.  

Living with a progressive degenerative neuromuscular disease means realizing I’m not going to get better. Today is the best I’m EVER going to be. My symptoms will worsen over time.

As PD progresses, it leaves it’s victims unable to control movements normally. There are generally 3 stages of PD. Mild, Moderate and Advanced. I’m in the moderate stage. Daily activities, like eating, walking, speech and cognitive impairment are affected.  Symptoms also include, problems with focused attention and planning, slowness in thought and movement, language, memory difficulties and personality changes. PD affects people in different ways. PD symptoms vary among its victims and are unique to each person.

PD is relentless.  Without my consent, it silently creeps into so many facets of my daily life.  I’ve lost another part of me; the shock, denial and grieving process start all over.  I was once told, “I used to think you were one of the smartest people I know.  You could do anything you set out to do.  Now, I see you struggling with things you used to do with ease.  I miss the old Julie.”  I miss the old Julie too.  This is my new reality.

I had two choices, roll over and let this damn disease take over every facet of my life and body or fight back. I chose to fight back. PD messed with the wrong girl, I’m doing everything I possibly can to fight the progression of PD.  I watch my diet and take my medications as prescribed. I’m also involved in Rock Steady Boxing (RSB), a non-contact exercise program designed specifically for PD. We work on balance; gait, strengthening and we get to hit things! Believe me, it helps to hit things. The workouts are 90 minutes long, several times each week. I feel a sense of freedom at RSB.  Everyone there has one purpose, to fight PD.  We are all in the same boat.  At RSB, I feel like I belong and I don’t have to hide my tremors.  We have become like family.  I’ve made it my life’s goal to laugh as much as possible, enjoy life’s little moments and to make sure I check things off my bucket list.

I need to be realistic though. I’m going to need help. My doctor suggested a service dog. I’m working with a wonderful non-profit service dog organization, MADE (Making Assistance Dogs Easy) in Texas Assistance Dogs.  It’s expensive to raise and train service dogs. The training takes approximately 2 years. The cost for a mobility service dog is $9,000.  I’ve paid $3,000 and received a scholarship donation for $1600. The balance due is $4,400.   This is where you can help. Would you please consider donating? Any amount will help. 

How will a mobility service dog help me and improve my quality of life?  I’ll have someone to lean on literally. A mobility service dog is trained to be a safety net when I’m wobbly. If I fall, the dog will stand firm so I can pull myself up using the dog as a brace.  The dog will nudge me to move forward when I get stuck and help me by dragging a laundry basket, so I don’t have to navigate carrying a basket and walk. A mobility service dog will be built in exercise motivation because, he/she will need to be walked and exercised. Getting out will also help me be more social. I will have someone counting on me to be there.  My mobility service dog will help lift my spirits when I’m down and as with any dog, love me unconditionally. I will have a partner.

Please visit MADE in Texas Assistance Dogs to learn more about their program.  Donations can also be made in my name directly on their website.

Thanks for letting me share my story and thank you for your consideration.

Hugs,

Julie

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