Roy Exum
By 8:30 yesterday morning I had received four emails responding to an opinion that I had just written about a wonderful exercise class designed to help those who are afflicted with Parkinson’s disease. All four had one common theme – fear. They want the class. They need the class. But …. but … sometimes it is hard to get yourself through that door. We all realize that but it has been said the toughest step in any journey is the very first one. The second step, of course, is when you try to kick yourself for waiting so long to make your move.
F.E.A.R. – False Expectations About Reality. So help me, this is the truth. Throughout my life, when I worried about taking a plunge, it was never what I anticipated. Oh, it was tough sometimes, and not much fun at first, but not anywhere close to what I feared. So, to those who have shared their anxiety and hopefully to others who have not, allow me to spin a couple of stories that may get you going.
Earlier this year I was worried I may have colon cancer. My insides were not working right and things were going from bad to worse about a subject I don’t discuss. My insides were out of whack, believe me, and I darn sure didn’t talk to my friends and neighbors about it. Additionally, the last thing on earth I wanted was somebody messing with my “D.T.” (which stands for “down there,”) but a lifelong friend is going through a tough tussle with colon cancer right now. Her wit, bravery, and enthusiastic zest for life gave me the kick-start I needed to face the fact I needed help.
I met with a gastroenterologist and soon I went through a dreaded colonoscopy – not pleasant but not anything my F.E.A.R. remembered it to be – and Dr. Steven Kessler soon told me that between 10 and 15 percent of the world’s population has “irritable bowel syndrome.” He gave me a prescription and – bingo – my problems immediately cleared up. He told me to check with him in a year and that, no, he did not find my head up there when he examined my “D.T.”
About a year ago I was talking to another great Erlanger doctor, urologist Amar Singh, and he told me a funny story about us boys. “When a woman has breast cancer, everybody in town knows it, even the fourth graders at school. But I belong to a club where at least 10 guys I see there are my patients and not a one of them knows the others come to me, too!” In short, guys never talk about their “D.T.”
Let’s face it, when you are closer to age 70 than age 60, your parts ain’t what they used to be. You can agonize all you want, procrastinate, hide … whatever … but eventually we humans are faced with the stark realization nobody gives medals for enduring pain or agony, not when help is so readily available. It is so much easier and better to make a 1:30 appointment with a doctor than to arrive curled up in a ball in some emergency room at “the other 1:30.” Are you kidding me?
The biggest medical mystery that all of my physician friends wonder is, “Why did you wait so long before you came to see me?” In cancer we all know that early detection greatly improves your chances of recovery. The American Cancer Society tells us that based on the most recent figures (2014), there are 14.5 million people in the United States who have survived cancer for at least five years. About 250,000 are in Tennessee – who among us doesn’t want to be one of them!
Women should examine their breasts with soapy hands in the shower every Monday morning. It should become a habit. Men should do the same with their testicles. It you find a hard lump, call your doctor that very day because – this is medically proven --worrying won’t make it go away. Don’t have a doctor? Call the main number at Erlanger Hospital and by the end of the day you will. Then just remember F.E.A.R. and the truth that whatever is going on is not as bad as you think it is.
One of my most favorite stories is about a pride of lions. Pride is what lions call their herd, and remember these cats are the Kings of the jungle. Each pride is led by the biggest, toughest lion of the bunch but, in what happens to all of us, the top lion gets old and tired. His teeth get loose, his mane gets matted. He stinks. Not even the old females will have anything to do with him.
Then one day it happens. It is best described by Pat Dye’s classic line the first time he was the new head coach at Auburn and he stepped to midfield to meet Bear Bryant in the annual “Iron Bowl” slugfest. Dye had been a top assistant coach for Bryant for eight years at Alabama and as Bryant gave him a warm hug, Dye claims he said, “Coach Bryant, don’t hug me long … my boys are fixing to get after yo’ a**!”
Even with a new leader, the old lion gets to stay with the pride until he croaks, all because of one very specific reason. While the old man can no longer run fast or whip more than a monkey, his roar gets more legendary with age. This really happens! He goes hunting with the boys in the pride because he can out-yell the lot of them.
When they come upon a gazelle in a thicket, the mean, tough, strong lions slink to the back of the bushes. The old man, instead, walks almost to the front door and screams the most blood-curdling roar ever. The terrified gazelle runs out the back where it immediately becomes the feast.
The lesson: Run to the roar. If that gazelle had only known how a pride of lions works, it could have kicked sand in the old lion’s eyes and gotten away scot-free. But we as human beings know how prides of lions work and we merely need to apply the same attack to our biggest fears and worries. Run right at the problem.
Parkinson’s? Don’t hide it … fight it. You can either control it or it can control you. I promise you – it is all about choice and the disease doesn’t have that ability. You do. Scared of the dentist? Think – were you scared the last time you left the dentist office? Of course not. Hiding addiction? Run straight at it. There are new methods and new medicines and new doctors who can guarantee you a better and bigger life.
I have been treated for depression for years. The reason I am not ashamed to admit it is because I am convinced it is a disease. Doctors can treat it. I take medicine every day that keeps it in check. I tell people about it because I am living proof it is not just treatable, the treatment works. My hope is that if I can encourage a fellow struggler to understand mental disease is no sign of personal weakness – not at all – perhaps they will seek a psychiatrist because that person’s suffering, fear, and anxiety will soon stop.
Irritable bowel syndrome is no more embarrassing than diabetes or cataracts. The only thing degrading about cancer or any other disease under the sun is the F.E.A.R. of mankind that often accompanies it.
I once met a lady who openly cursed God for “allowing this to happen to me” and that is no more than stinkin’ thinkin.’ Look instead at the other direction … I believe God gave Jonas Salk the wisdom to make polio a word none of today’s children can define.
I believe God gave a German scientist, Wilhelm Röntgen, the brain to invent an X-ray and Madame Marie Curie the courage to develop its use. Where would I be without Alexander Fleming, who kept his laboratory so messy he “accidentally” discovered penicillin? I believe God put so many fabled people ahead of me in life that it is the only conceivable reason why I am what I am, and do what I do.
On that thought, what do you want God to do about your Parkinson’s? Go to the North River Y. What do you think God wants your husband to do who is ignoring his Parkinson’s symptoms? Go see a doctor. What do you think God wants you to do about the heroin that is hidden in your purse? Go see your doctor and the two of you will get help. You gotta’ understand … “God don’t sponsor no junk.” Play it down and pray it up.
What, then, does the devil want you to do? F.E.A.R.
Run to the roar.
royexum@aol.com