Golf, Parkinson’s, and Our Friend Jim

You walk towards the tee box, club in hand, your conscious mind telling you to be confident as your subconscious mind tells you different. You tee the ball up and it sits in front of you perfectly still. You look down the fairway in the distance. A flag stands defiantly, protected by sand, water and trees. You step into nature's arena. It is both polite, beautiful and at times unforgiving, like the siren’s song of Greek mythology. The course beckons you to her impending hazards. Golf is a game of self-mastery, strategy, and precision, executed one shot after another until the odyssey is complete as your ball rolls gently into the hole.

Despite Parkinson's Disease, the game of golf still gives me great joy to play. It is a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. The game teaches me many lessons by the people I play with and have played with. One of those lessons was taught to me by an old golf mate, Jim. A few years ago my dear friend Karen who I regularly golf with met me for our usual Friday afternoon on the links, but on this particular Friday Karen said we would be joined by a friend of hers, Jim. She explained to me that Jim worked out at the same fitness facility and was recovering from some health issues. He had not golfed in over a decade and wanted to get back into the swing of things so to speak. I knew that Karen being the kind soul she is probably had a great deal to do with encouraging Jim to get back into the game.

It was our usual Friday tee time at our local golf course. Jim pulled into the parking lot. Karen said she was going to help him with his bag. I was not sure why at first until I saw him get out of the car.  Jim was missing a leg from the knee down. How great that despite this challenge he was willing to give golf another try. Jim approached me hand extended with a big smile on his face. I would come to find as time went by that this was how Jim viewed life, with a smile. The round started and we were all curious to see how he would manage to play, considering his age, a long lay off, and an artificial leg. Our curiosity was answered as one shot after another went straight down the middle, not far but straight. We were all amazed. In between Jim beating us on what seemed to be every hole, I learned more about our new golf partner as we played. The subject was brought up about his leg. I assumed an accident of some sort was the reason for the missing appendage. Jim explained that he was missing his leg because of diabetes and if that was not enough, there was his liver transplant, and the reason he was working out….to get his strength back from the chemotherapy he went through because of the lung cancer that was in remission. If Jim had a dog that ran away, he would have had a great start to a country song. All the rounds of golf that Jim played were always filled with a tale of a great shot he made or something funny he said or did. On one particular round of golf at a course that was by a small airport that hosted vintage plane shows on the weekend, Karen told me Jim was staring at the planes fascinated by the sight of the relics flying so low as they passed over head that he never took his gaze off them even as they went behind him. Karen looked back to comment about the sight and burst into laughter when she saw Jim laying on the fairway, falling backwards off of his artificial leg, smiling, laughing, and watching as they flew by while his leg stood there in the middle of the golf course.

I would always ask Jim how he was doing.  “Pat, I would complain if I thought anybody would listen,” he would tell me as he chuckled. Jim rolled with life’s punches. He could have complained,  but didn’t. He played the game for the best reason - - to spend time with friends.

A few years later the cancer came back. Jim golfed as his strength allowed him and always with a smile. Karen gave him this great game back and us the privilege of his friendship. She honors Jim by sponsoring a hole in his memory at our golf tournament. I know he would have liked that. I have learned golf is a game best shared, not taken too seriously, and passed along to others.

Thanks Jim for the best golf lesson I ever had.

 I am Pat Younts and I Move to Live.

Fearless in the Face of Parkinson’s

Each day I wake up and defiantly get out of bed, ready to push my disease out of the way and go forward, not letting any of my limitations slow me down. With my vanity still intact and a can do attitude I embrace each day. That sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Images of bounding  out of bed, jumping into the alligator tank for a quick wrestle to start the day before chopping wood to heat the stove to cook a breakfast of - you guessed it - alligator steaks. Actually I have a gas stove; chopping wood sounds like a lot of work and not the best idea for someone with PD to be swinging sharp things. As for the alligator, my wife says I can’t have one. For someone with Parkinson's, the simplest things can feel like an epic struggle: getting out of your bed sheets in the morning and dressing yourself can feel like wrestling an alligator; brushing your teeth in the morning can sometimes take as much effort as chopping wood; and preparing alligator steaks would be like putting creamer in my coffee and trying to hold my spoon steady enough so most of the cereal goes in my mouth and not on the kitchen counter. The smallest of things can seem like an epic struggle for many of us with PD. So what is fearless?   

Fearless for me is still doing the small things, things that I would not have even given a second thought to before Parkinson’s. It is not running a marathon or climbing a mountain or biking 100 miles or doing those epic feats of inspiration by those special few who are battling Parkinson’s. I am talking about what other people do every day - open the toothpaste, carry a drink across the room without spilling most of it, getting my keys out of my pocket or for that matter anything out of my pockets.  

I was given some wonderful gifts over the holiday season that you would consider to be prohibited on the PD gift list if such a list existed - an iPad and a smartphone. Why would I get something that requires me to use a steady finger that I no longer have? Because I can still manage to work around my PD to do the things I want to.  Sure it’s frustrating and slow like the thought of teaching my wife to play golf. It requires patience and being just a little bit fearless. Now I had that moment of parkey doubt, thinking with the sensitivity of these devices I am never going to get any use out of them. As it turns out, I wouldn’t know what to do without my iPad and smartphone. Both are tools that I use every day. Now for me using a handheld device can be very similar to wrestling an alligator, a bit all over the place, so I have learned to make things manageable.  I set my phone down when I use it. Speakerphone and voice command features come in quite handy. Holding the phone up to my ear or getting it out in time to answer it seems like...well, you guessed it, more alligator wrestling. I put my iPad on a stand for ease of use. Taking photos or video is not so easy, but I have found a great tripod accessory that will make that much more manageable. Problem solved.

This disease can make the simplest things feel like we are wrestling alligators, so what do we do? Just stop doing the things we normally used as Parkinson’s makes them more difficult? The fear of finding out you no longer have the ability to do something is a stark reality we live with.  For me, just giving up as things become a challenge and accepting defeat instead of finding a way to work around them for as long as I can is unacceptable. Now…. if I can just keep… my computer… mouse… steady…. enough to hit….there published.          

I am Pat Younts and I Move to Live.