Columns

We’re going to be grandparents! My husband, John, and I couldn’t be more excited. Grandma, Nanny, Grannie, or Gram — I don’t care what this baby calls me. I look forward to the (hopefully) beautiful relationship I envision with this child. I hope to be a source of love, cuddles,…

My most treasured moments come from just a handful of days in my life. The first was the sunny, beautiful day in July 1995 when I married my husband, Arman. Then there are the times I first held each of my three children, just seconds after they were born. Many…

I visited my family doctor several months ago regarding some issues related to being a woman “of a certain age” on hormone replacement therapy (HRT). Did you know that estrogen is neuroprotective? I’d initially begun HRT to control debilitating hot flashes, but the bonus was that my brain…

“Jim Rice was a nice guy,” Dad told me one afternoon late last summer. “He walked into my office when I was at Century 21. He didn’t know who I was, but he asked me right away if I had Parkinson’s disease. That was almost 15 years ago.” Dad…

Besides my husband, Arman, we don’t have any friends or family members with Parkinson’s disease. However, we do have a relative, Rose Brown, who’s a social worker working solely with Parkinson’s patients. She’s the Parkinson’s program coordinator at NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital and the sister-in-law of one of my favorite…

I’ve often heard people scoff “It’s not rocket science” or “It’s not brain surgery” when expecting someone to accomplish an easy task. But as I tried to calm my jangling nerves, an important clarification ran through my mind: “This is brain surgery.” I was alone with my thoughts in the hospital waiting room…

If you’re reading this column, there’s a good chance you have some connection to Parkinson’s disease. I say this because I don’t often receive comments from readers who aren’t touched by Parkinson’s in some way. Now that we know why you might be reading this, I have some questions.

Lying down and sleeping seems like such a natural thing to do. I remember when one of my mother’s caregivers said to me, “I finally got your mother to lie down.” What? My mother didn’t know how to lie down? It’s true: Dementia had robbed her of that seemingly…

I was watching my youngest daughter’s high school lacrosse game the other night and commented to my wife, “She’s seeing the field really well right now.” We talked a bit about how it’s obvious, from a spectator’s perspective, when our kids are bringing their A-game and are engaged and anticipating…