Former Border Mail journalist Mick McGlone comes to terms with Parkinson's disease

Purely because, after a couple of decades of searching for an answer, I finally had the diagnosis I had been pursuing.

I had Parkinson's disease.

Now it might sound flippant to be happy about being told I have a disease that will reduce my life expectancy, to a degree which is not yet clear.

But at least I had a diagnosis and one which did not link me conclusively with Lewy Body Dementia (LBD); a condition which I had researched, and which frankly terrified me and kept me awake at night.

Over the past 40 years I have suffered from an essential tremor, epilepsy, two lots of deep brain stimulation surgery (heaps of fun) and now PD (with the chance of LBD).

I have not drank alcohol for five years and gave up smoking 10 weeks ago (about 50 years too late; it turns out because I was diagnosed with emphysema almost immediately!).

And I now have an extended vocabulary, which includes words such as "thalamic", "alpha synucleinopathy", "akinesia", "decrementing" and "Parkinson's disease-Lewy Body disease spectrum".

So, what's it like to have PD?

I can't really tell you, even though my story goes back over two decades.

I mean I don't have the terrible shakes and distorted voice that Michael J Fox has, or the late Muhammad Ali had.

But my balance is appalling and the potential for a serious fall is ever-present.

My gait is terrible, and I walk with a pronounced limp; and now five metres behind the Lioness (wife Cathy) instead of the reverse.

My handwriting is shot, and looks like the scribble of a drunk, while my typing speed has gone from 60 words per minute to bashing the keyboard with one finger.

Bending over to pick up things is fraught with danger and I struggle to get down on the floor and back up to do my exercise program. It can be a nightmare getting out of lounges, couches and chairs, which at least gives everyone else a good laugh!

This, of course, also means I have to give my beloved grandson, Archie, a wide berth as my 116-kilogram frame crashing down on him would be catastrophic!

And now I can no longer mow the lawns, weed the garden or climb up ladders or do fiddly things with my hands (actually these may be pluses!).

On the positive side, none of this has prevented me from carrying out my duties as a marriage celebrant; something that I am incredibly passionate about.

But my time as a thespian with the Albury Wodonga Theatre company is now well and truly over!

I am lucky to have the support of The Lioness, the Princess Legend (daughter Emma), and the D-Mac (son David) and their better halves; Lauren, a wonderful and competent carer; and an impressive range of therapists at Icaria Health in Albury.

It breaks my heart to think about those people who don't have this level of support. (It is estimated there may be about 500 people in Albury-Wodonga living with PD.)

What I do know, is that many people are mistaken when they say PD is curable and not really such a bad thing with modern medical techniques.

It is not curable, but medication and an intense exercise program can mitigate some of its symptoms.

There is no doubt that there are many people far worse off than me.

So, the sail is set.

But which way will the winds of fate and mortality take me?

I guess it's a case of what will be, will be.

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