Christmas and the hypochondriac

I love Christmas.  I love the cold weather, snow (I'm originally from Buffalo so go figure) the lights, music and setting into motion the plan to get everyone in the family a gift they didn't expect. It generally puts me in a good mood.  Shopping, however, can sap some of that mood fairly quick.  I don't actually mind shopping.  I'm a strategic shopper.  I plan my route and stores and I'm usually in and out quick.  I guess though, I really don't shop, I'm more of a buyer.  I know what I want and where it is. I get it. I buy it.  Simple as that. Oh, if you go with me, I'll watch you shop, but that's not me.  So here I am in a store and everyone, it seems, is happily buying gifts for each other and conversing with friends and family.  Everyone seemed to be relaxed and having a good time shopping until...time to check out. The pressure is now on to get through the line and back to more shopping.  No one wants any delays in line in front of them.  You could almost see the thought bubbles over people's heads - "Put that checkbook away lady, we don't have time for that."  "Great! The guy checking out grabbed the shirt with no tags, PRICE CHECK PLEASE!"

STRESS

I didn't know it at the time but if you want to see your Parkinson's symptoms come out just get stressed.  Medicine or no medicine you will not function as you're used to functioning.  Here is an article on that subject.

  I got ready to purchase my gift with cash and when the cashier told me the total I tried to peel off some bills to give to her.  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get the bills apart with my left fingers.  I couldn’t move my fingers the correct way to get them to separate the bills so I could count them out.  The more flustered I got the worse it became until finally, I gave up.  I handed the clerk all the bills, smiled and covered with a comment that my hands must still be cold or something. She smiled, took what she needed and handed me back the rest. I filed that 'symptom' away for future reference.
Another clue. Sitting at my desk at work that same week, with my left hand resting, the muscle on the back on my hand, between my thumb and forefinger, started pulsing.  Nothing major, just a steady beat.  I watched it for a minute, moved my hand and then it stopped.  Curious I thought, I wonder if I can get it to do it again.  Wait for it....., yup, there it is again. It's like that one muscle is listening to its own music station and pulsing to its own beat.  Now it's got me curious, so I started to keep track of my ‘symptoms’.  I keep putting that word in quotes because, at the time, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Plus, as a closet hypochondriac, I was trying not to be too worried.
About the hypochondriac bit.  I never considered myself one, I just thought of myself as extra observant about how my body worked.  If something changed, I knew about it.  Sometimes I would question it, maybe look it up, but never obsess about it (like a true hypochondriac would I told myself.) I was always the one to tell the Doctor what was wrong with me based on my observations.  I have a good Doctor, who I'm sure rolled his eyes when he saw me coming the once or twice a year I needed him.  He knew that I'd have a list of my symptoms and was looking for a confirmation on my diagnosis.  I had about a 50% hit rate - hey it's better than the weather people!  This time though, it seemed different, so I made a list of everything I could think of that I had noticed and looked it up.  Here is where my life began to turn upside down. 

Up next: Symptom count and the first Doctor visit