I Have Parkinson’s, and Life Is Still Beautiful

“Life is beautiful.” “The best is yet to come.” Two small plaques inscribed with these words of wisdom stared back at me as I sat in a cubicle waiting for the technician to come and get me. I was booked to have a mammogram and an ultrasound. As if having Parkinson’s disease wasn’t enough, I was being tested for “concerning tissue,” as my doctor called it.

Life is beautiful, but sometimes a gray cloud casts its dark shadow over us, causing us to fear. “The best is yet to come,” beautifully scrawled on a sign, may soothe us temporarily until we are facing the possibility of a new and troubling diagnosis. In that case, these words may seem like mocking whispers in the background noise of our minds. What we hope for may not come to pass, and fear, if it hasn’t already done so, soon takes over.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

One thing we all have in common is fear. But in times of uncertainty, some of us fall short of hope. We can jump to conclusions about what our future may look like while we await our test results. Our minds run rampant and we have our funeral service mapped out before we even receive the findings due to our tendency to fear what may not exist.

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Drawing on fear when facing an ambiguous situation can be easier than relying on hope because it is natural to fear the unknown. Hope is an attitude of optimism that believes good things are possible. It comes from within.

To hope is to believe the best is yet to come, no matter what the diagnosis or prognosis.

And so I sat there in that cubicle waiting, and then it was time. I followed the technician into the mammogram room, my “cape” blowing behind me. The machine trampled over my breasts like a Mack truck slowly rolling over a rubber ball. Next stop was the ultrasound room. After that, I returned to my cubicle, where life is beautiful and the best is yet to come. 

And the best did come. There was nothing abnormal to report, and the radiologist didn’t see anything to be concerned about. I could go.

I only had Parkinson’s and the need to get my hands on a tire pump. No cancer.

Life is beautiful.

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Note: Parkinson’s News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Parkinson’s News Today or its parent company, Bionews Services, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to Parkinson’s disease.