A few weeks ago Sarah and I take a trip to Calgary. It was a short visit to wish her dad well in Fort McMurray and to say goodbye to Calgary since she probably won’t be back for a long time. But this isn’t about that trip. It’s about a meeting at the airport. When we arrived in Calgary Doug (Sarah’s dad) was waiting for us. He had been waiting a while since the plane got a late start. On the plane with us was an old friend of Doug’s so we waited for him to get off too. While were were waiting, Doug was telling us a story about a guy at the airport that just couldn’t sit down.
Doug said the guy was walking in circles and the only time he saw him sit down was an hour earlier and even then he was figiting in his seat. After hearing the story I kept an eye on the guy and Doug was right . . . he wouldn’t stop moving. His arms were flaining all over the place and he and he wobbled back and fourth as he walked. He didn’t seem all that old . . . I mean, I thought he was in his thirties. He was shaved bald and wearing glasses and beside the fact that he was wobbeling all over the place he just seemed like a normal guy.
For the next few minutes Sarah and Doug were talking but I couldn’t pay any attention. I was fixated on this guy. I watched him as he walked in circles around the various obstacles in the waiting area of the airport. He would walk around a kiosk and then walk in the direction of the hallway where people comming off the plane would comming toward us . . . he was obviously waiting for someone.
I wish I had done it earlier but I finally got the courage to talk to him. I just waited for him to circle around and just said “Hello, I was just wondering about you.” I was stumbling over the words as I looked him in the eyes. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He said “I have Parkinsons.”
I didn’t expect that. He didn’t look old enough. I asked his age. 50. I asked how long he had known. He said he was diagnosed in 1996 but pretty much knew his fate because he had a few relatives that had the same thing. I walked with him as he did what he had to do so he wouldn’t stiffen up. He continued to answer my questions as I was practilly drilling him.
A few minutes after talking to him I felt like crying. I told him that. He said he cries a lot . . . but he also still does everything he did before he got the disease. I asked about what thearapies he was doing and what drugs and he explained as best he could before I would interupt with another question. I asked if he still worked . . . he said no. I asked how he paid for things and he said he was lucky for the Canadian Health Care system and also the union he was a part of at his employer.
Sarah and Doug were walking toward the door with their friends. But the conversation was just getting started and I wished I could just stay there until whoever he was waiting for had arrived. He told me he wasn’t married. He talked about an organization and told me about a website and said that that alone had gotten him this far. I wish I could remember the name. It was something about men’s health and the name was like abc.org except I don’t know what the abc part is.
After talking to him I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. And since then I think about it occasionally and hence this entry. I learned so much during that 20 minute conversation. I just wish we had another hour to talk.
Sheldon