Extolling the profound impact that Lambdoodle.com would have on so many deserving, vulnerable, exceptional kids and families, my captive audience asked, 'Are you doing anything for adults?'

'Of course' I gushed, 'Moms, Dads, Grandparents, Caregivers, there's something for everyone.'

'No, no, no, will there be an area exclusively for adults who are living different lives?'

I understood at once; his wife had recently been diagnosed with MS. 'How had I not seen this?'

While intimately connected to Luke's journey and others in similar situations, I could not claim the same union with what I knew would be a magnificent component of Lambdoodle.

Committed to enhancing the Lambdoodle community with the inclusion of those facing circumstances such as my friend and his wife, respecting the truth that I could not serve as the voice, I knew I needed help.

As luck would have it, providence intervened. I was confident that in my then new acquaintance, I had found the perfect collaborator. The rest is history - MidLife Revelations is now a reality.

It is with heartfelt gratitude to Stu that I quiet my voice and turn to the talented, caring, extraordinary heart of my brave friend.

After flirting with several annoying symptoms for three years, on December 11, 1996 I was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. At first I welcomed the conclusion because now finally there was a name to place on these symptoms, something to define that which previously had no face. Now I could create a strategy to combat this intruder. After a particularly impersonal and painful diagnosis at MA General Hospital, an angel appeared in the earth-bound form of Paula Ravin, a neurologist at the UMASS Medical Center in Worcester, MA. At the time I had no idea what a critical role she would play in my Parkinson's journey and that her knowledge, skill, and compassion would lead to the healthy and active lifestyle I presently lead fourteen years later.

While Paula did not completely agree with our initial strategy to forego conventional medicines in lieu of a homeopathic approach, she supported me offering suggestions for additional vitamins and supplements as well as which meridian points my acupuncturist might employ to more effectively treat the Parkinson's symptoms. Initially, the progression moved slowly and stealthily, as the next couple of years were largely characterized by a "wait and see what will happen next" posture. I do distinctly remember Paula repeating her concern that there would eventually come a day when my life would be compromised to the extent I would require medication.

The progression gained momentum over the next five years, and my wife and I having noted each subtle alteration, were not surprised when the day Paula spoke of arrived. My life had become extremely compromised as I began having difficulty performing even the most simple of tasks. Ten years later, the litany of medications I endured in search of the right fit, seems quite hazy. I remember one medication that prevented my sleeping and after two weeks of sleepless nights, I frantically called Paula pleading for another alternative. Another medication made my mouth so dry I would wake up in the middle of the night unable to swallow. Finally, one medication made me chemically hyperactive and I was surviving on four hours of sleep each night. I rather enjoyed that medicine because I managed to accomplish a tremendous amount of work each day.

In 2004 I retired from teaching two-thirds of the way through the school year. My symptoms had become so challenging that I could not teach at the level I demanded and when it came to my students, there could be no compromise. Upon retiring, I moved to our cottage and with the mentoring of another angel, Fred Sallah, I began to renovate our summer cottage into a year round home. My solution to buffer the absence of my students was to become a student of carpentry, plumbing, and electrical work and for two years it worked.

In 2006, my symptoms progressed to a consistent loss of balance causing several falls a day, muscle tension due to dystonia resulting in chronic back pain and a tremor in my right hand so severe I could not even hold a glass of water. One day I fell in the cellar injuring my shoulder so severely it would require surgery. As the year progressed, I felt my life steadily slipping away as I received little relief from any medications. It was in September of this year that my neurologist introduced me to a procedure called DBS (Deep Brain Stimulator). She indicated that I was a perfect candidate for the operation and it would be the most promising alternative available to me. The procedure involved drilling two dime-sized holes in my head and inserting two wires in the brain, which would then be connected to a neurotransmitter implanted in my chest. This transmitter would emit a signal that would impede the static of the Parkinson's, thus reducing the symptoms considerably.

The operation took place on December 12, 2006 at Mass General Hospital and lasted eight hours. Because I needed to be responsive during the operation, no sedatives or painkillers were employed. Looking back upon the operation three years later, it appears surreal, as the mind finds a way to temper the trauma that one incurs. I remember I was facing the clock and the minute hand never seemed to move, no matter how much I watched. The operation was far more taxing than I had been prepared for, but with the aid of "My Angels from MGH" I made it through the procedure.

I was determined to leave the hospital the next day and bothered enough staff members so that they acquiesced after I had a routine follow-up CAT scan at 5:30 the next afternoon. When I arrived home I entered into the "honeymoon period" where the symptoms decreased drastically due to the manipulation of the brain. Two days after brain surgery I was walking the dirt road around the lake we live on and my symptoms were almost all gone. The incessant tremor in my right hand was most notably absent as well as the constant pain in my back. Knowing this freedom would last on the outside two weeks, I reveled in my new comfort and tried not to become too attached to the lack of symptoms.

Predictably, after two weeks the symptoms began to return and I made my first out of dozens of trips to Worcester to have the neurotransmitter adjusted. There is no manual on how to proceed with establishing the settings and as Paula shared with me, it's like trying to hit a moving target. The trick is to balance the neurotransmitter with my medication and because the disease maintains progression despite the DBS, it dictates constant monitoring and adjustment. With each new adjustment, one symptom might ease up while another would surface. The rollercoaster ride was on. With one adjustment, I found speaking most difficult and wanting to be understood, I would turn off the neurotransmitter. Another adjustment left my equilibrium compromised and I again began falling six to seven times a day. I fought depression as my fatigue level was off the scale and some days I would return to bed as soon as two hours after waking. Rarely, did a day pass by without a nap.

After almost two years of monthly tweaking, we seemed to settle on the most effective settings. My tremor had not returned, as with the chronic pain in my back. My chiropractor commented regularly on how relaxed my back muscles were. I began to feel almost human again as the adjustments to the DBS became more effective. Slowly, I began to resume many activities long since discarded along the Parkinson's path. The only major frustrations remaining were my inability to write and play the piano. Whenever I would try to play the piano, my hands would not cooperate. Whenever I would try to write, I found little to say.

And then I met Laurie Howlett, the founder of Lambdoodle, and she asked if I would be interested in contributing to her website. She obviously saw the potential for individuals with challenges outside the realm of special needs children, to share their stories and create an even larger scope for Lambdoodle. I was moved to tears with what I had read from the existing library of stories and immediately saw the benefits in sharing my challenges with the Lambdoodle community. While the DBS gave me back my life, Lambdoodle gave me back my voice. I composed one story with relative ease, and went to work on my second submission. And the benefits didn't stop there. After regaining my voice, I returned to the piano and began to find the same ease of expression as with my writing.

Bearing witness to the power of sharing, I invite others to contribute to "Midlife Revelations" as our stories need to be shared. There is undoubtedly great healing to be realized through the sharing of personal struggle, for both author and reader. The opportunity to document several "insightful healings" has allowed me to regain my voice and continue the healing process in a profound manner.

We'd be honored to hear from you, and welcome your heartfelt stories, suggestions, information, resources and the like at MidlifeRevelations@Lambdoodle.com. Respectful that you've taken the time to share with us, we'll respond in a timely manner. The What's New Button on the Home Page will indicate a new posting for this area, so be sure to check in on a regular basis.