On December 13, 2023, at the age of 44, I was diagnosed with Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease or what I like to call “YOP”. My symptoms began approximately five years earlier with a slight tremor in my right index finger. When the tremor spread to my hand and worsened under stress or at the gym, I scheduled an appointment with the neurologist my primary care physician referred me to. Over the next two years, and four total appointments, the neurologist repeatedly incorrectly diagnosed me with an essential tremor. Frustrated by a tremor that now was impacting my ability to use a mouse and type, I took it upon myself to find a movement disorder specialist, who finally gave me the diagnosis I had long suspected. The specialist said to me, “I know this is a punch in the gut.” Not to me it wasn’t. Rather, it was the sound of the bell calling me to the center of the ring for the fight for my life.
The movement disorder specialist also said to me, “Now pack this diagnosis in your trunk, and keep going. Follow my rules. Number 1, animal protein and dairy are your enemies. Number 2, no canned drinks. Number 3, take your medicine. Number 4, exercise every day.” So, at that moment, I declared that my animal protein and dairy devouring, medicine avoiding, diet soda drinking self was dead. Armed with the specialist’s rules, a vegan, hydrophilic, Sinemet swallowing exercise monster was born.
I’ll obnoxiously admit, the transformation was not particularly difficult for me for three reasons. First, I am an incredibly disciplined person who used to be a competitive bodybuilder, personal trainer, and black-belt martial artist, and am still a gym-rat with the ability to look at food as fuel instead of decadence. I am also an attorney. I guess you could say that I was born to fight. If you don’t believe me, just ask my wife and parents.
Second, I did not see violating the doctor’s rules as an option. Simply put, it is my job to be the best husband, father, and human being I can be for as long as I can. I owe this to my wife, son, and self. And, I don’t want to look back and say, “I could have done more to be present longer.” When my fight is over, I want to know, and I want my family to know, that I threw every punch and kick I could with the ferocity of a young Mike Tyson.
Third, I was once a stand-up comedian, and having a sense of humor about YOP is essential to get through the minute, let alone the day. A week after my diagnosis, a loved one asked, “How did you get it?” To this I replied, “Amazon. They have everything. Showed up overnight. And, none of that counterfeit crap from another country. This is Grade-A, authentic, crap.” I also cautioned someone who said something insensitive to me, “Think before you speak because one day I might pick up something valuable of yours and ‘accidentally’ drop it. Plus, I won’t let you skip the lines at Disneyland with me.”
The last thing my doctor said to me after the diagnosis was, “We’re a team now. I’m going to fight for you. You’re going to fight for me.” For those of you who have joined me by visiting this site, I make the same promise to you. I will get in your corner and fight for you. I hope you’ll return the favor. We’re a more divided country than ever. Let’s do this together because I don’t want to do it alone.