By Madeleine Pizzuti 

Our eyes met momentarily as we stretched our arms out wide clutching the coloured bands in front of us, whilst counting backwards from three. Again and again our eyes would meet as if it were meant to be part of the exercise. 

Already I was out of breath, and this was only the first exercise of the designated hour-long program. It was my ‘look forward to’ exercise twice a week – an hour each time.  

I had never liked exercise, yet here I was at the age of 70 enjoying every minute of it. I had no option really – this was essential if I were to maintain some normality in my life. 

“Are you OK Maddy?” the instructor’s voice brought me back to the present moment. The name ‘Maddy’ would have annoyed me years ago, but now, in my senior years I seemed to be more accepting of variations to my name. 

“Yes, I’m OK thanks.” I replied, bringing myself back to the task at hand. 

“Good. We’re now going to do our stretches.” 

The instructor’s voice seemed to fade into the distance as I was brought back to those eyes again. It was hard to look elsewhere as we were sitting directly opposite each other with other participants around us forming a circle.  

As our eyes met again, I wondered about this person. His past: his occupation when he was younger; his family; had he been married; did he have children?  

He glanced at me again. What might he be thinking of me? Probably he’s saying to himself, “she doesn’t look like she’s got it. I’ve watched her walk, and she seems quite balanced. She doesn’t shake. She’s not even as old as me.” 

Whatever he was thinking, or come to think of it, what I was thinking, the reality was that we both suffered the same demise. 

I dropped down into my chair whilst letting out a deep sigh and waited for the instructor to direct us to our first exercise station. The staff and students at the Exercise Lifestyle Clinic had been fantastic. Their demeanour exhibited care and support. They all seemed genuinely interested in each participant. 

This was the one place in my now ‘changed’ world where I felt accepted and cared for. My safe haven. A place where each participant bore an invisible label on their chest that read ‘I have Parkinson’s.’ 

I remember vividly the day I received my diagnosis. It was April 2021. 

The first sign of the disease was a tremor in my left hand, and I was referred to a neurologist who sent me for the necessary tests. It was the day I was to receive the test results, and as I sat in the patient chair opposite the doctor waiting for some words of reassurance, my eyes scanned the wall behind him that displayed his framed qualifications and a large photo of a younger version of himself with what seemed to be his medical colleagues.  

On his extremely neat desk sat a 3D dissected model of a brain. I watched the doctor as he stared at his computer screen, carefully guiding his hand over the computer mouse. Then he spoke these words …. “Well, it’s all pointing to Parkinsons’s Disease.”  

It took me a few seconds to process his words. I had expected a less significant diagnosis – one which could be fixed with medication of some sort. 

However, all I could think of was… ‘can I live with this?’ I answered his statement with ‘…isn’t that life-threatening?’ He replied, ‘well, we all have to die someday.’  

I froze at his apathetic response. I knew nothing about Parkinson’s disease apart from the fact that Michael J Fox had it. I had never given any thought (before that day) to the disease. However, that was soon to change. 

After being prescribed some medication for the tremor, I set to investigating as much as possible the effect of Parkinson’s and how to live with it. We are fortunate to be living in a country that offers excellent support for Parkinson’s sufferers.  

I discovered that Parkinson’s is not just about tremors, and that there are numerous symptoms that may present themselves. Some of which are age-related issues and not brought on by Parkinson’s Disease. One of the first things I did after receiving my diagnosis was to read Michael J Fox’s book No Time Like the Future.  

This was a stepping stone towards my own future and how it might change. The book gave me hope and the realization that I was not alone in this. I could identify with so much of what Michael J Fox had to say. At last here was someone who understood, who acknowledged that the symptoms I experienced were not just a figment of my imagination. 

After much research I joined a support group and received counselling through Parkinson’s NSW.  

The mere ability to talk with someone who understood what I was experiencing was invaluable and so important for my mental health. I had learned that exercise was one of the most important activities to undertake and was known to slow the progress of the disease. Hence my enrolment in this exercise program. Yes, I have had to make some changes in my daily life. 

Whenever I have to drive anywhere – especially somewhere I haven’t been before – I try to find out beforehand if parking is close and hopefully on the same side of the road to where I’m going (this eliminates me having to cross the road), and if there are any steps or flights of stairs. 

If I’m going to a large shopping centre, I make sure I use my walker to assist with balance and with the fact that I might need to rest after walking for a while. I also tend to walk with a slight stoop and more slowly. Then there is the issue of fatigue.  

There is no warning of when that might strike. But I’ve learnt to just accept it and not fight it. If I need to rest and sleep some of the day, then I do.  

The crazy thing about Parkinson’s disease is that a lot of the symptoms are not visible to the outsider. They are feelings from within – the effort it takes to merely put one foot in front of the other, and the simple things that we once took for granted but we’re now not able to do, such as rolling over in bed or getting up from an armchair. 

Thankfully though, with the aid of these exercise classes I know that I am doing something positive towards making my life as normal as it can be. 

We’ve finished the ‘winding down’ part of the class now and the instructors and staff are ready to wish us all a good week until next time. I look up towards the man opposite who now smiles at me and waves goodbye.  

I grab my water bottle and wave to everyone, grateful for the support and encouragement that I’ve been given. 

Until next time, bless them all – my Parkinson’s family.