The “Million-Dollar Workup”
The neurologist said the words I had convinced myself he wouldn’t:
“I’m concerned you might have Parkinson’s.”
It wasn’t exactly a surprise. I have a strong family history of Parkinson’s disease, and while that doesn’t guarantee I’ll develop it, it does increase the risk. Along with the symptoms I had already noticed, the neurologist identified several other signs commonly associated with Parkinson’s.
Looking back, I think my symptoms started around 2½ years ago. I don’t know exactly when it began, but I remember walking through the Mall of America and noticing my left hand was contracted. My arm felt heavy hanging at my side. Soon after that, I started struggling to type with my left hand.
Then came the walking issues. I noticed I seemed to limp. I kept walking out of my sandals and tripping constantly. At first, the symptoms were subtle — noticeable enough to bother me, but easy enough to dismiss or explain away.
By Fall 2024, I finally brought it up to my doctor. He ordered a brain MRI, which came back clear. Then came a lumbar spine MRI showing a mild protrusion. That was the beginning of what I jokingly call my “million-dollar workup.”
If I’m honest, I suspected Parkinson’s very early on, mostly because of my “claw hand.” But no provider mentioned it as a possibility, so I let myself believe there had to be another explanation.
Over the last year and a half, I’ve seen:
- 6 physicians
- 3 physician assistants
- 1 nurse practitioner
And I’ve had:
- 4 MRIs
- 2 spine injections
- 1 EMG
I’ve been diagnosed with:
- cervical stenosis and bulging at C4-5 and C5-6
- an L5-S1 protrusion
- labral tears
- bursitis
And despite all of that, we still didn’t have answers for my primary symptoms.
Meanwhile, daily tasks quietly became difficult.
In addition to my initial struggles, I began to struggle to dress myself. Fasten jewelry. Pull my hair into a ponytail. Apply deodorant. Shave my underarm.
None of these things sound dramatic on their own. But together, they change your life long before there’s ever an official diagnosis.
I had my DaTscan on a Friday. Lying there in silence while the machine did its thing, I couldn’t stop thinking about what this disease might look like for me. My life. My family. My future. The weight of it all hit me at once, and I just laid there crying in that silence.
By around 11:30 the following Monday morning, I got the email that new test results had been posted to my chart. I clicked the link, and the first words I saw confirmed what we had suspected:
“IMPRESSION: Findings are compatible with parkinsonian syndrome.”
It hit me like a wave. Heat, fear, anxiety, grief — all of it rushed in at once.
I still don’t know exactly what comes next. I don’t know what treatment will look like. What I do know is that Parkinson’s is not a one-size-fits-all disease. It looks different for everyone.
Whatever this looks like for me, I know I’m incredibly fortunate to have the love and support of my family and friends beside me through it.