People used to half run to keep up with me as I walked at my normal pace. In 1991, they were walking ahead of me, sometimes far ahead. They would call back to me, "Why are you dragging behind? Why are you walking so slow?" I had no idea what they were talking about. I called up to them, "I am walking as fast as I can." Hindsight is 20/20. Now I know my slowness of movement was the third sign I had PD. Bradykinesia is the medical term for slow movement.
Although these three symptoms were mildly annoying and inconvenient, I was far more annoyed by the reactions I received from some people who noticed my shaking left hand. I was in a store paying for my purchase and the cashier noticed my hand was shaking. She promptly pointed it out to me and laughed. I quickly made up a feeble excuse. I said, "I am just getting over the flu." Why did I feel I had to explain? On a date, the first thing the gentleman said to me as I approached our table was, "Are you nervous? Your hand is shaking." Then he laughed. In a department store I decided to use my credit card to pay for my purchase. Bad move. My left hand was not working very well that day. As I struggled to move my hand across the sales slip and sign my name, the cashier just sighed and sighed. There was no one in line behind me. It was just the cashier and me.
I admit I was becoming touchy and overly sensitive about my shaking left hand. And yet, I still did not think anything was really wrong with me. I would almost panic when I had to sign my name in public. I dreaded and tried to avoid it whenever I could. I never realized how often I sign my name in public. Now it seemed like everywhere I went people were handing me a pen. I never had to fill out a form at the dry cleaners. But one day the cashier whipped out a form and pen and said, "Here, fill this out." I thought, "Not even the dry cleaners is safe." I began keeping my left hand in my pocket whenever I could. In fact, when I would shop for a dress, skirt, shorts, or slacks I would not buy it unless it had pockets.
I want to focus now on what all of us who could benefit from stem cell research do not want. We do not want human cloning, human research abuses that were common in World War II, infanticide, and Frankenstein-like experiments. Also, I would ask those with differing views on stem cell research to refrain from lumping us in with disreputable scientists who talk about or actually clone animals or are involved in other unsavory practices. I respect peoples’ right to disagree but not their practice of fighting for their cause in an unfair manner. Please do not give the public misinformation on this vital, life-saving issue.
I mention all of the above because they are some of the more extreme concerns that have been expressed about stem cell research. Quite frankly, no one benefits from this extremism.
All of us oppose human cloning. We support fines and jail terms for those who would stray from research guidelines. We can work together on this.
The stem cells to be used in the research are no larger in size than the head of a pin. They are not human life; they have the potential to be human life. People are being denied better treatments and/or cures for their diseases. We are being denied the quality of life so many people enjoy. Yes, it is important to bring new life into this world. However, the commitment and responsibility does not stop there. The quality of life must not be ignored once that life is here.
If everyone fought as much for quality of life as they do for life to begin, it would be a better and more peaceful world in which we all could live together.
As it stands now, the cart is being placed before the horse. We have not yet reached the point where we have more effective treatments and/or cures for diseases. More importantly, those of us who hope to benefit from this research are good and reasonable people just like you.
We are just seeking a healthier life. We do not seek or support strange or bizarre types of medical experiments. We are not looking for the fountain of youth. In fact we relish the prospect of growing old.