MY BEAUTIFUL BRAIN It would have been so easy to write about the negative side of my life but it isn't as bad as you might think as I get a great deal of pleasure out of my writing which I suppose is my emotional outlet in a way for what I can't translate into the spoken word. Self-belief in my ability to live with this condition is another determining factor because, without my mental attitude to overcome my disability, I would have probably collapsed in a heap and given in to Parkinson's long ago. But I found my inner strength the willpower and the spirit to carry on and overcome. When you look at the facts of living with Parkinson's it doesn't look good, but it isn't all bad either. In the early days, I didn't have to think about the problems I would have to face and shrugged them off and carried on with a relatively normal life. Parkinson's doesn't change overnight so you have time and that depends on whether you decide to look after yourself and stay as physically fit as possible. In the early days, I kept playing competitive sports for as long as I could and then I started cycling. I could ride a bike much better than I could walk. The main problem was getting on and off the bike because that was when I had balance issues. But I worked my way around the problems and off I went. Riding a bike gave me independent mobility for quite a few years because I was falling so much when I was trying to walk which meant that I started to use a wheelchair to get from A to B if I couldn't do it on my bike. And, if I was being honest using a wheelchair for my mobility was probably the worst decision I have made because I became reliant. The positive side was that I wasn't having as many crashing falls and hurting myself but the negative side was that the less I walked the harder it became. I began to freeze and lose faith in my ability to walk. I was freezing in doorways, falling off curbs, falling backwards and yet I could still ride my bike? It made no logical sense. And I stayed in a wheelchair for nearly ten years and I was walking less. But what was happening was that I was losing faith in my ability to walk. I was losing my self-confidence. And I thought to myself is this it? Is this my disabled life? My brain was slowly but surely forgetting how to walk automatically without thinking about it I was starting to freeze and seize up which created a lot of anxiety for me. However, I have always been a positive person and thought proactive about dealing with my Parkinsonian symptoms. So I sat down and figured it out. If I couldn't walk automatically without thinking about it I would have to tell my legs what to do and give them orders instead. So I started talking to my legs and telling them what to do. And the more I repeated the verbal commands the more my brain started to remember. I was re-routing the faulty signals in my brain from automatic to manual and it was working. And although it wasn't perfect it was good enough. I have restored my self-confidence in my independent mobility. I could walk again. And the more I was able to walk the less I had to consciously think about it the more natural the movement became. I had rerouted the faulty signals and restored my self-confidence.

SEVEN DAYS OF HOPE Parkinson's can become a prison cell so make sure you don't lock yourself in and throw away the key. Dopamine is converted to adrenaline, the body's stress hormone. Too much dopamine mixed with adrenaline is toxic The Journal of Parkinson's Disease published a peer-reviewed scientific study by Dr Jonathan Sackner-Bernstein positing that the standard way to treat Parkinson's might be precisely the opposite of what would be the most effective. The data show that instead of focusing on increasing brain dopamine in Parkinson's patients, a more scientifically rational approach would be to reduce the amount of dopamine within the cells in the brain that control movement. Data from the study of human brain tissue includes many different types of cells and the materials that connect and bathe them. Sackner-Bernstein's analysis confirmed the marked reduction in tissue dopamine, by 82% in the caudate and 96% in the putamen – the two areas of the human brain most affected by Parkinson's. However, the toxicity of dopamine relates to the amount within the dopaminergic brain cells, rather than the concentration surrounding them. To rationally select a therapy, doctors need to know the levels of dopamine inside these cells rather than what happens around these cells. This analysis reports that the dopamine levels inside these cells (called the cytosol) – the part of the brain cells where dopamine produces its toxicity – were higher than normal in the caudate and putamen of the brain in patients with advanced Parkinson's disease. Before this publication by Sackner-Bernstein, the amount of dopamine inside these vital brain cells had never been reported. Along with the elevated dopamine levels inside these cells, these brain cells in people with Parkinson's disease cannot protect themselves from dopamine toxicity. Thus, the toxic effects of dopamine are more pronounced on the very cells people need the most when suffering from Parkinson's. As Sackner-Bernstein explained, The function and viability of the nerve cells is what determines the severity and progression of Parkinson's disease. Because dopamine can be toxic to these nerve cells, scientists and clinicians cannot develop or prescribe therapies to reverse the disease without knowing the amount of dopamine within these cells. For the first time, these new data show us what is going on inside the brain cells that need treatment. The study's findings explain why treatments to increase dopamine don't slow or reverse disease progression. Sackner-Bernstein continues, There is already more than enough dopamine inside the cells. In some ways, using dopaminergic therapies is akin to whipping a tired horse it helps for a few strides but doesn't affect long-term results. Four laboratory studies report that blocking the production of dopamine within these brain cells improves cell function and keeps them alive. Such data in the context of this new observation of increased intracellular dopamine establish a new therapeutic path – one that reduces the average level of dopamine in the nerve cells while preserving the cells' ability to synthesize dopamine when needed. This approach can be tested now by using the drug metyrosine to partially block the synthesis of dopamine within the nerve cells. We've lived in the dopaminergic era since the 1970s and that has allowed millions of people with Parkinson's to feel some improvement in their symptoms. But the disease worsens inexorably. It's time to test a new approach, one based on firm science as highlighted by this groundbreaking publication. The clinical trial to assess the potential impact of blocking dopamine could start this year, concluded Sackner-Bernstein. Using drugs to increase brain dopamine has been the standard since the 1970s, when several studies showed that the total amount of dopamine in the brain tissue was low and several other studies reported that increasing brain dopamine levels resulted in rapid and noticeable improvement in mobility for patients with Parkinson's. Unfortunately, no drug that increases dopamine produces long-lasting improvement in symptoms. And none of the treatments in use today slow or reverse the inevitable worsening of the disease. Scientists have shown over and again that if brain cells have too much dopamine, this critical chemical becomes toxic to these very cells, causing brain cell dysfunction and cell death. Yet despite this risk of excess dopamine, before this study by Sackner-Bernstein, no one has reported the amount of dopamine within these brain cells. These findings have important implications on why current therapies are not more effective and on how to develop new treatments. What would you think if somebody said it's not Parkinson's you have too much adrenaline, you can recover? Well, that was the mind-blowing prospect that I had to rationalise and come to terms with when I first met Lilian Sjoberg a Danish Biologist and therapist who was going to help me find an alternate way of dealing with my stress condition. And it is a stressful decision I do not doubt that now but the medical world gives it the label Parkinson's disease because it is far more convenient and much easier to deal with on a broader scale. To begin with, though we had to try and find an initial starting point, and as far back as I could remember my very first stressful experience was when I was ten years old and in Junior school and my first recollection of feeling any stress or anxiety was when I was in a boys running race in the school sports and I was always brought up to believe that winning was everything and losing was a total failure. I got myself so wound up and nervous before the race had even started that I was never going to show my full potential and I finished second. That set the pattern for my anxiety and my inability to be able to deal with and rationalize stress. The trouble is if you go through your life thinking like that every little thing becomes an issue. The following year I had to sit my eleven-plus exam and I failed again. Everything that should have been a perfectly normal process to go through became a big thing and I put pressure on myself when in reality it didn't matter. But it did matter because what was happening although I couldn't see it at the time was that I was creating a situation whereby my young brain just couldn't handle the pressure and anxiety and stress that it was being put under, and it overloaded and manifested itself in a physical symptom with shaking and other health issues and that's how what we mistakenly call Parkinson's occurred in me. My stress levels in my brain were far too high so I started to develop health issues and that is the case with a lot of serious health conditions they all start with a set of little switches, and if you turn the right set of switches are turned on at the right time you develop health issues. But the irony of all this is that a lot of these issues if spotted early enough can be avoided. But we never do anything about it. And that's because it isn't in anybody's interest to, so we give it the broad label of Parkinson's disease, or Alzheimer's, or Dementia. because it's easier to deal with. And yet what they never tell you is that if you dig a bit deeper under the surface, you find out in a lot of cases a lot of the symptoms can be treated drug-free you just need to be able to identify the root cause in the first place. I've reached the point now in my journey where you have to decide as to which direction you want to go. Do you want to go in the traditional medical treatment of keep taking the drugs while they are still working and then up the dosage if something goes wrong until they just don't work at all? Or do you look for another way? Doing something as radical as I am attempting to do involves a lot of emotion and a great deal of self-reflection. And you have to open the doors to all those demons that you hoped you would never see again but they were standing laughing at me like they did all those years ago but, for some reason, it didn't matter to me anymore. After a while, they just walked away and all that movement in my body was slowly starting to feel a little bit calmer and at peace which is a feeling I can barely remember experiencing. You see you reach the point with the traditional way of treating Parkinson's where you just come to a dead-end because there is nowhere else to go and I didn't want that to happen which is why Lilian Sjoberg's theory made sense to me. Why should we accept that Parkinson's is a disease and why should we accept that medication and technological surgery is the only way? And I knew why. Because it's not profitable to prevent chronic conditions like Parkinson's from occurring and it's not profitable to find a cure we just keep rolling down the trail. The one thing you have to realize when you decide to go in this direction is that you cannot do it in half measure. If you are going to find an alternative way then you have to commit, in other words, you have to be prepared to alter the medication you are on, your lifestyle, everything, and it will involve a certain amount of discomfort. That was a difficult thing to do because I hadn't been used to committing myself to anything, but you know when something is right then it is right and that's how it felt to me. The biggest problem I have is with the dyskinesia and that is being fuelled by a combination of madopar and adrenaline so my body keeps going into hyperdrive. Near the end of the session, Lilian began to teach me ways of relaxing my body when I was feeling tense and nervous which will be important when I start to drop the medication. I feel quite unsettled about doing that but I know I have to and I got very emotional when we did a visualization because Lilian took me back to where my trauma began. I knew this wasn't going to be easy and that was evident the next morning when I felt like I was going to be physically sick again. All those childhood anxieties came flooding back into my head again and I started to panic over absolutely nothing at all. I kept telling myself that the sun would still shine and the moon would still rise but to no avail. I had to take my medication early to calm myself down which eventually started to work and I felt normal again. Stress-related illness can show all the signs of Parkinson's disease but isn't. When I got nervous or anxious I started to shake because I was in shock but that isn't Parkinson's. In my opinion, that's stress-related trauma. So from day one, I should have been treated for mental health issues but instead, I was treated for Parkinson's. But I was diagnosed a long time ago and they didn't have the knowledge that they have now. Stress-related illness can seem very much like other neurological conditions but in my opinion, they are completely different things. But somehow I have got to lower my adrenaline levels and the only way to do that was to burn it off with exercise. The day before had gone well because I had managed to do more exercise and felt good but lowering my medication level was going to be a problem. The only way I could go forward would be if I could get the level of dopamine down but it was going to be a very slow process. My high adrenaline levels mixed with the dopamine were proving toxic to my body and sending my legs into dyskinetic spasms, which was leading to more anxiety but it was a vicious circle that I knew that I had to break. I would have to try and face up to my demons by myself. Coming to terms with my childhood traumas made me feel very emotional and had brought to the surface all my insecurities so I knew that it would be wise not to take too many big strides forward too soon. But at least I had Lilian to advise me. I have never felt comfortable with the thought that I had an illness called Parkinson's disease and something at the back of my mind was telling me that I didn't have it all, which may sound ridiculous to some after forty-seven years of suffering from something, and then I met Lilian Sjoberg and my whole life changed because she opened my eyes to the fact that Parkinson's wasn't Parkinson's at all. What we call Parkinson's disease is forty or more illnesses lumped together with similar symptoms because it's easier to categorize them that way. What they are in the majority of cases are stress disorder conditions caused by various stress-related or trauma incidents in people's lives which can cause chronic illness as with what we think of as Parkinson's. But because it's easier to put all symptoms into one category it's labeled as being Parkinson's disease, when in fact a great many cases the symptoms can be treated without the use of medication. And so I've decided to make a life-changing decision of trying to prove that this is the case. That doesn't mean to say that I am rejecting medication completely because I accept the fact that I still have a debilitating illness but I need balance in the medication and approaching it as being Parkinson's isn't the way for me. The problem that I have with my severe dyskinesia seems to be caused by too much adrenaline in my body and so I need to burn that off with regular exercise. But also I have been put on a drug in the last five years called Madopar (Levodopa) and when you mix the two on too high a dosage it causes me to suffer from severe dyskinesia in my legs and so with the guidance of Lilian, I am trying to get the balance right. but I am convinced that it isn't Parkinson's but more of a post-traumatic stress disorder that has made me ill. Sometimes you have to follow your instincts and what you believe in and for some reason have been under the impression that I was suffering from a debilitating neurological condition something at the back of my mind kept telling me it was wrong. Although I show every symptom of having Parkinson's why am I still in relatively good health after forty years of having a debilitating condition such as this? All the indications and the symptoms were there but something seemed out of place, something was wrong. I just happened to come across a biologist and therapist by the name of Lilian Sjoberg who spotted something about me that no one else did. It wasn't Parkinson's at all I had too much adrenaline pumping through my body and mixing it with synthetic dopamine was making it worse. And after only one session of counselling, we unlocked the door to what it was. I had been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I had been unknowingly making myself ill by worrying too many overtaking exams as a child and trying too hard. I was creating my stress and trauma trying too hard and making myself ill. I was in trauma and it was misdiagnosed as Parkinson's disease. And although I show a great many symptoms of having Parkinson's I don't believe it to be the case. I believe that the medication that I am now on is only making my condition worse so I need to lower it as quickly as I can. That doesn't mean to say I will recover but it does mean that I have much more hope for my future and I am so grateful for that. What you have to try to understand is that when I claimed that I didn't have Parkinson's, I never claimed that I didn't have a serious illness, I questioned the prognosis and it's quite obvious to everybody around me the cause of it. The reason why I have been ill for so long is that the stress and pressure of modern life have been too much for me to handle and I have made myself ill through worrying too much. And there's a message or even warning there because what it's saying is that if I can eventually develop Parkinson's through stress and worry as a teenager then how many long-term health conditions are caused as a result as well? And even more than that is the need to have a group like The Real Life Community so there is somewhere that you can go to take the stress out of your life and just forget about it for a while. And that is so important that you have something or somewhere that you can turn to that will help you get through it and it's unfortunate for me that I have had to go through this with the biggest problem I have ever had in my life and go public with it. But I'm so glad that I have because in putting myself through that intense therapy of self-reflection to discover the root cause of my illness I have shown the biggest danger to everybody's health and the desperate need for groups like this. The biggest problem I have ever had in my life is that I have always tried to suppress my emotions. I have always tried to hide them because I have always thought of emotions as being a weakness. But in doing that I have internalized something which can be a good thing in certain respects but in other ways, it can be a damaging thing as well because if the emotion is too strong and you internalize it can be difficult to control and it can be damaging. In my case, I internalized all my fears because I've always thought of fear as being a sign of weakness when in fact it was completely the opposite. You build up irrational fears as I did every time I took an exam because I was always so scared of failing. And the more it went the more it built and so by the time I had reached manhood that fear of mine manifested itself in me making me ill and developing symptoms that looked like Parkinson's when in fact it was just that powerful emotion that I had tried to suppress showing itself in a physical form and the harder I tried to suppress it the worse it became. But it wasn't just confined to exams it spread to other aspects of my life as well until by the time I had reached middle age it had become one of the dominating aspects of my personality. I started to worry about something before I had even done it and that puts my body under unnecessary stress which can lead to serious illness. I'm not exactly sure what is happening to me but for some reason, all those demons that were swirling around in my head yesterday have completely left me and I feel calm and at peace with myself and it feels wonderful. It's almost as if by facing up to my biggest fears I have banished them and I haven't physically changed a thing. My medication is the same but I don't feel the same person I was yesterday because I feel as if I've left all of my hang-ups anxieties fears and baggage behind me. And I've done that simply by going back and confronting what has been bothering me all my life but have been too afraid to confront. And that is fear. But is a natural emotion in any animal and it is a natural thing in us. We shake when are scared and we freeze. And that's what happened to me all those years ago. I got scared and I froze or in my case, I made myself ill over absolutely nothing. If I could have only understood that it didn't matter how I had fared in those exams very early in my life I wouldn't be where I am now. But in saying that I'm in a very good place and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. But you have to go through those really bad experiences in life to find yourself and I feel so happy that I have been able to do that and now I can look forward to the road ahead without any fears and trepidation and not worry about a thing. I have been for a swim in the pool of honesty and I feel completely clean. I just can't tell you how that feels right now because I feel completely clear of the cloud which has been hanging over me which goes by the name of Parkinson's and it doesn't matter to me anymore and it's not important. What's important is that I've woke up from the dream that I was in and I've started to live again and appreciate the people and things that are around me. You see the thing is if you go through your life worrying about every little thing you will make yourself ill and I've been through that long dark tunnel and come out the other side. And now I can see sunshine and colour and love and music and art and life outside in the daylight just feels incredible. But you have to go through that kind of experience to find out who you really are and I've found myself now and just feel very emotional and very happy. Thank you, Lilian Sjoberg. I will always be eternally grateful to you for showing me the way. The trouble is we just don't see things for what they are and we make a mess of it. I have spent most of my life searching for peace and tranquillity and just to feel calm again. To feel still again and not move a muscle and just be content and float away on the breeze and feel happy. But to feel like that the stars have to align and you have to be lucky it didn't happen for me for a long time but now I feel that I'm on the right track. You see the key to well-being and good health is destressing as much of your life as you can and taking the angst out of it because too much stress can make you ill and I realize that now. Modern life is bad for us all, it's toxic and should come with a public health warning but it doesn't so we get on with our modern lifestyle and accept stress as an everyday occurrence but it's not because it is a killer waiting to pounce and if you get too much of it you will make yourself ill as I did all those years ago, but all this could be avoided and a great many medical conditions could be eradicated if only we could see it. It has been a really difficult process in psychoanalyzing myself on social media and exposing my inner fears and anxieties but I felt it was important to show what the root cause of my illness is. And it is a stress-related illness I do not doubt that, which has elements of Parkinsonism but is in no way what we know as Parkinson's disease. It's very similar but not the same. My symptoms have been caused by anxiety and irrational fear of being a failure and I know that now but it was misdiagnosed in 1987 and there is absolutely nothing I can do about that now. I've been like a wild animal who has been frozen with fear and just keeps shaking because he is scared and it's as simple as that but because of the wrong prognosis I have been allowed to believe it was Parkinson's disease when it wasn't. All my problems started when I internalized my inner fears and anxieties and I've never been able to talk about them, they have just become a monster and made me ill. But now I have confronted the cause of my condition I going to try and repair some of the damage I have done to myself by trying to get as well as I possibly can. What it has shown to me is that I went through my life with two completely different personalities. On the one hand, the extrovert Rob Keene who always loves the limelight and is very personable and easy to get to know who hasn't a care in the world, and the introvert and very insecure Rob Keene who literally worries about everything in life however small and unfortunately for me this became the dominant side of my personality. But in a way it has done me a favour because having put it in the public arena, I now feel a great sense of relief and chastisement that I have got it all out so that I can move on but I know that it will be a very slow process. You can believe whatever you like but in my world, that's what I believe. I have created an illusion in my head that I am chronically ill and that is what I am. I have made myself ill by thinking that there was something wrong with me when in fact the only thing that was wrong with me was the way that I was thinking. And it is as simple as that. But you have to get your head around it and understand what I am trying to say. You can make yourself ill by simply believing that you are ill so don't think it. It's just a simple mindset. But it isn't our fault because what happens is we go to our local hospital and we tell them what we are thinking and they are only too willing to confirm it because it is in their interests to do so. It's really strange how somebody's life can pan out because I have lived most of my life worrying about failure when in fact I should be looking forward to success and I just stopped enjoying my life because I was always worrying about what might go wrong and its thinking in a negative way like that which has created so many problems in my life which I could have otherwise have avoided and it's only when you have been through those kinds of situations that you realize how important your life is so don't waste it. After all my insecurities came flooding out Lilian Sjoberg arranged to speak to me the next day to calm my fears about taking less Madopar and I felt much more comfortable that I was doing the right thing because I couldn't keep going down the same old route. After all, in its way, the medication was making me worse so the first change was going to have to be made I knew in the short it would make my condition slightly worse but I was ready for that and I knew that I would still be ok. Lilian spent the majority of our Zoom session calming me down with visualisations of my past life and discussing the root causes of my initial anxieties and fears which was helpful because then I had ways of calming myself down when I had those anxious feelings which would be so important in the future but first I had to get the level of dopamine medication down to see what was actually underneath it all. I was starting to see a structure to what Lilian was proposing to do and it was starting to make perfect sense but I had to get my dopamine levels down to see what was underneath so it would take time to initially do that but I could see the logic in it all and my confidence was coming back but I still had to take that first step and until I had taken that first step then everything would stay the same. But I kept telling myself that little roads lead to big highways and then I would be sure which direction I was going to be heading, and there was something about Lilian Sjoberg that reassured me that she knew what she was talking about and she knew she was right. The way we currently look at treating a condition like Parkinson's was completely wrong in the dark ages. What we needed was a completely different approach and a way that is a lot more sustainable for the future of humankind. We can't keep going down the road of drug society and keep swallowing pill after pill after pill. There had to be another way. Most people can only see the negative side of Parkinson's, the day-to-day drudgery of constant medication and the struggle for functionality but over time you will become aware of the positive side of Parkinson's and there is a positive side do not doubt it. It takes away functionality but it gives you creativity. The brain has a way of rerouting signals and what was important before you were diagnosed doesn't seem quite as important anymore. I had clarity in my life and it felt as if I had dismissed my Parkinson's symptoms with one swish of my hand. That is all it took. I pushed my symptoms into the corner of the room and made the most of the day. It was never going to be perfect but it was good enough. That was the point. It was good enough. And I smiled to myself because I knew I had turned a corner in my life and I had found a new beginning. Robert James Keene January 2024

5 DAYS IN HELL March 2021 I spent five days in North Staffs Royal Infirmary undergoing extensive neurological tests to find out what was wrong with me when I already knew or suspected but I needed it confirmed. So, Mr Murphy my neurologist at the time wasn't convinced because I was so young but running all the obvious neurological tests would give them a clearer picture of what was making me shake. Those five days were like a living nightmare because I was hoping and praying that I was wrong. I had never spent more than a few hours in a hospital being treated for anything more than minor injuries and I was scared, to say the least. The fact of the matter was that other than the obvious shaking which was very visible I considered myself to be in reasonable health. I had an occasional chest infection and a dose of flu but nothing more serious than that. That was the whole irony of the situation because apart from Parkinson's generally speaking my health was good. So having to spend five in a hospital was very stressful for me when you consider that I suspected it was Parkinson's anyway. The referral time to see any specialist in 1987 was horrendous. I waited nearly nine months before I had a letter and another six months before my eventual appointment because it was constantly being cancelled. In the meantime, I kept taking the tranquilisers because they were helping with my Parkinson's which was slowly progressing. Without realizing it they were masking my symptoms. I was so ashamed of taking them I kept it a secret from everybody even my parents who had no idea that anything was wrong. I didn't want to shock anybody until I knew it was true. I eventually got to see the neurologist Doctor Murphy the following year. The first thing that I had to undergo was a rather unceremonious and utterly thorough physical check-up. That was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. After I had very swiftly put my clothes back on I went and sat down to see what Doctor Murphy thought. He could see that I had a very slight tremor and that I dragged my one leg when I walked and then he mentioned the word that I was hoping I wouldn't hear. But you are showing signs of junior Parkinson's syndrome which I have never come across before for someone of your age. Doctor Murphy in true Irish spirit wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery so he made an appointment for me to spend a few days in North Staffs Royal Infirmary to undergo extensive neurological tests so he could find out what was causing my symptoms. It is quite a big 'pastime' in Ireland to solve a good mystery. I took his word for it. I had this notion in my head that it was all going to be routine and quite boring while I was in there and that I'd feel like a lab rat being pushed and poked. Imagine what it's like to be surrounded by all sorts of people with various neurological disorders. Most of them were ok until their medication wore off. Then one or two would start screaming in the middle of the night and running around like lunatics in an asylum and I was lying in there amongst them thinking what the hell am I doing here? That was my initiation into hospital life in a neurological ward. I'd spent the first day doing various physical tests whilst being videoed then in the afternoon I had some kind of scan. Then I went to a different testing room where I was covered with gel and fitted with electrodes which were connected to some kind of lie-detecting machine with lots of needles which was extremely noisy. I was lying there covered in cold sticky gel with all this noise going around me and I was starting to feel very confused and unsure about what was happening. I was asked a lot of questions about my environmental background as to which area I grew up in Staffordshire which I found a little strange but then a few years later it all made complete sense when there were various connections between crop spraying and Parkinson's. I was also asked if I'd ever used any hard drugs to which I answered with a firm no as I'd never touched any in my life. There was some new research coming out of America suggesting a connection between Parkinson's and LSD. They were also trying to find out if I lived near any farms as well or had been anywhere near crop spraying. On the last day, I was asked if I'd mind being seen by a group of Doctors who were visiting the hospital one of whom was a specialist in Parkinson's. After watching the video of me they asked me if I'd mind sitting in front of this panel of doctors who might be able to shed some light on what was wrong with me. The six million dollar question. My heart started to beat a little bit quicker. I stumbled into this chilly room even though I only had pyjamas and a tatty oversized dressing gown which I had borrowed. They all looked quite serious as I sat down in front of them. Then the doctor in the middle who had a bright blue dickie bow on cleared his throat and started to read something off some of his case notes. The only words that registered in my ears were I'm afraid Mr Keene you are showing distinct signs of junior Parkinson's syndrome but we are not sure. They thanked me for my willingness to have tests done then I was ushered back to my ward so that I could pack my things up ready to go home. I had to sit for another hour in the lunatic asylum ward waiting for somebody to give me a quick check-up before I would be allowed to go home. Eventually, I made it to the exit strolled over to my car and climbed in. I stared out through the windscreen in a total state of shock. I knew very little about Parkinson's or how it would affect me but one thing I did know for certain. It was a progressive condition and there was no cure. I had to get on with my life as quickly as I could. The first day of knowing was the worst. Then the aftershock. Finally, the confirmation came as a bit of an anticlimax because it was ten years too late. I had Parkinson's. You can't prepare anybody for that. I had to come to terms with it. I had to pick myself up off the floor and get on with it. It was as simple as that. I had no time to sit down and think about the ramifications it was full steam ahead on the good ship Rob.

VALENTINE EPISODE ONE VALENTINE'S DAY Valentine stood there. A lonely lover The last of the great romantics. The phantom of the opera. A lonely heart in a room full of cracked mirrors. A silly teenage crush. The drama queen of the disco scene. He wouldn't look twice in a mirror of madness? And suddenly isolation and loneliness left him and he felt warm again. He felt wanted, but more importantly, he felt used. He was enjoying the game. Hey man can you give me a lift home I've missed the last bus. Of course, no problem. The same pathetic answer which was becoming oh so predictable. Love was a game that you played until you won or lost. Valentine knew the rules. He could never get it right and was always falling far too short of what might be expected of him. He was a child in a man's underpants. Oh, grow up Valentine. What do you want from a relationship for Christ's sake? That was it. That was the problem. Sex, cheap thrills or everlasting? Love confused him and sounded far too complicated and messy. It meant commitment. And that was something that Valentine didn't understand or accept. The art of falling apart. Valentine couldn't stand the thought of it. It sounded like a dirty word. A prison sentence. So he ran like a baby couldn't commit and was always found wanting which is why they never seemed to last because he wouldn't put pen to paper. So they had a shelf life and so did Valentine. He stood at the lonely end of the bar, his half-empty glass glistening in the green spotlight, his crisps strewn all over the floor waiting to be crushed into the carpet. It's a wonder he hadn't been thrown out. He had been standing there for three hours and he hadn't finished his drink let alone the crisps. There was a comical predictability about it that was annoying. He was playing his role to perfection yet again. The romantic idiot with a codpiece for hire. He knew he was in for another lonely Saturday night. The sad-sounding violins were already playing in the background. He tried to look disinterested in the people who were standing around him but he kept overhearing parts of conversations, kept slipping in and out of earshot and hoped that one day it might be him. He didn't care if he was arguing about what happened in the bar the night before last or if he was being accused of spending far too much time talking to another woman or how lousy sex had been or planning which gig they were going to see Bowie or Roxy Music. Anything would be better than nothing at all. Valentine seemed to be destined for the dustbin of bachelor life. Takeaway meals and late-night porno films all seemed so predictable, so boring. He tried to remember the last serious relationship that he had. Oh my God, it was five years ago with a girl called Ruby who insisted on attaching herself to his left arm and at the end of the night when they were playing the pairing-off game Valentine was always left standing there with Ruby still attached to his left arm, so he had no other choice but to give her a lift home in his battered old red Ford Escort. Then she would politely give him a quick peck on the cheek, and get out of the car as quickly as possible to be met by her dad who was always waiting on the doorstep. And so any thoughts that he might have had of a great snog and rampant sex on the back seat of his car had been completely thrown out of the window. She was a devout Christian. Either that or she wasn't interested. It had to be one or the other. The relationship finally came to a rather abrupt end when Valentine tried to grope Ruby's left breast on the back seat at the cinema. That was the final straw. Valentine was always under the warped misguided opinion that groping was a socially acceptable part of the courtship ritual. What planet of the apes was he from for Christ's sake? Flowers and a box of chocolates might have helped but they seemed far too predictable. He was overdosing on too much porno. It would have to stop. After all was said and done he could never remember his Mom and Dad being romantic so why should he? When he came to think about it he couldn't remember them being romantic full stop. It wasn't in their DNA or at least not in front of him anyway. Saturday night was destined to end like a damp squid when somebody pushed his right arm and he spilt what was left of his pint all over the bar. What the fuck? He was about to say as he spun around to see who the gorilla was and he couldn't believe his eyes. It was the prettiest girl that he had ever seen. I bet you don't recognise me, Valentine. He racked his brains but he couldn't think. No idea, he said feeling like a complete idiot. Well, I remember you because I always had a crush on you at school. It's Marlene, don't you remember me, I was that spotty-faced girl that was always chasing you around on the playground. No, you can't be, he said in amazement. I was just wondering if there was any chance of a lift home because I missed my last bus. And before he knew it Valentine had uttered those prophetic words No problem and fate had taken a distinct upturn in his life and he knew that things were never going to be the same again. Thank you, God he kept saying to himself as he left the pub. Valentine drifted in and out of romantic relationships like the turn of a page in a cheap Mills and Boon. It was uncomplicated and always dramatic. He set himself up and he shot himself down like a kamikaze pilot. It was painful to watch with tiny honourable intention and usually self-inflicted. His training ground was school and college, he did it every time without fail. But he couldn't see it. He was a romantic failure, if only he could relax but he was like a runaway train too quick. Love was meant to be love, not a three-course meal or a Chinese takeaway. His plastic chopsticks kept breaking anyway! EPISODE TWO VALENTINE'S BIG MISTAKE. The sun was beginning to disappear by the dark clouds of the day as Valentine lay on the bed and twiddled his thumbs. It was obvious that it was going to be one of those days. You know, the ones where you can't think of anything useful to do except watch the television. And, throw a tennis ball against the bedroom wall. And then he spotted the faded wedding photograph of his mom and dad. He kept looking at the picture and he became transfixed by the images. They looked so serious and it was supposed to be their wedding day for Christ's sake! Valentine took a closer look. He wiped the dust off. They looked scared. So why were they doing it then? Is this what all the excitement is about? She was pregnant he thought to himself. That's it that's why. Well, at least the two bridesmaids were smiling he thought to himself. And then he suddenly remembered. Oh, fuck me! I was supposed to be meeting Ruby in the park today and she'll I've stood her up. It was raining cats and dogs and Ruby looked at her watch. He wasn't going to turn up, was he? She was so disappointed because he seemed so trustworthy and reliable but he wasn't was he? He was just like all the rest. He had said all the right things to her at the bus stop and he seemed such an interesting guy she thought they would make such a good couple for days out and going to parties and things but it wasn't to be was it? And worse still she had walked a mile and a half to meet him without a coat in the park and now she was stuck under an oak tree and it was pouring rain. Well, it wasn't just raining, it was torrential and she hadn't even got a coat! Ruby crouched down by the base of the tree and started to think about how bad her life was turning out. She was twenty-four years old, she had a warm and cosy flat, a decent job, a good set of friends, a rather eccentric seven-year-old cat called 'Whammy' who just turned up on her doorstep one day and made the flat his own but she had nobody to share it with? Ruby was trying to be patient and find the right person for her but it wasn't as easy as it seemed and her time clock was ticking. She took a deep breath and sighed rather loudly as if she wanted the whole world to hear her and know how disappointed she was. But all she could hear or feel was the cold drip of the rain down the back of her neck. The rain didn't seem to be baiting. If anything it was getting heavier and seemed to be set in for the rest of the afternoon, and she was starting to shiver and feel the dampness and the cold of the rapidly cooling late afternoon air. She knew that she would have to make some sort of decision. Stay under the tree and hope that the rain will eventually stop or just go for it and get soaking wet? It kind of summed up her life really because she never took chances and she always played safe. But maybe now was the time to just go for it and get soaking wet. She had always thought deeply about things before she had done anything in her life and thought about all the options. Ruby had always been so sensible, so predictable, so boring. The big copper coin had just slid down into that rather cavernous and sensible brain of hers and landed with a loud clunk! Oh my God, I'm bored! Ruby could see her whole life flashing right in front of her and knew straight away where things had started to go wrong. I should never have worn my Playtex bra that night to the party. I should have just let them bounce around. Ruby couldn't bear the thought of all those rabid oversexed guys staring at her and fantasizing about what MIGHT be under her heavy metal tee shirt. She had never really felt liberated. The rain had soaked through the top of the old oak tree that she had been sheltering under and she was soaking wet. She looked down at the heavy metal tee shirt she was wearing, pulled it straight overhead, and wrung out all the water. She unclipped her bra hung it on the lowest branch of the tree and set off for home oblivious to the fact that she hadn't put her tea shirt back on but she didn't care because, for the first time in her life, Ruby felt happy. EPISODE THREE VALENTINE'S BAD DAY AT WORK Charlie Valentine was having a bad day at work. He was spitting fire. He was in one of his more suicidal moods. He was capable of anything. Well, almost anything. He kept muttering to himself as he jumped off the number nine. He needed a pity party. That was it. He needed sympathy. Anything that would cover up his mistake at work. He was having a bad day. Not just a bad day. A very bad day. He nearly lost his job. He was heading for the Watering Hole as quickly as possible to drown his sorrows. As usual, the landlord had prepared Valentine's customary 'bad day at work' pint and a packet of cheese and onion crisps as usual. Sod off Mr. Landlord or I'll never come in here again then your profits will plummet. Only by a couple of quid you never buy anything, he muttered. The rain started to come down heavily outside and Valentine realized he'd left his coat at work. Fuck I'm always doing that. Language please, this is a public house. Valentine looked around, we are the only people here, so don't talk a load of bollocks. Ok, but mind your language if anybody comes in. Then suddenly the door swings open and in walks a slim-looking dark-haired woman soaked to the skin. I'm always doing that, said Lydia as she shook herself like a pet poodle who had scrambled in out of the rain. The speckles hit Valentine straight in the face. What the fuck are you playing at madam. Valentine had been cut short in mid swear word by a Mills and Boon romantic image of a pet poodle and a full-size orchestra breaking into the opening bars of Casablanca the movie. Valentine looked at Lydia. Lydia looked at Valentine. The lights dimmed in the bar as a crescendo of cymbals crashed in the background. Light! Action! They simultaneously looked at each other. Of all the places. Valentine checked himself because he suddenly realized he was starting to sound like Dirk Dickhead Bogarde. Lydia looked at Valentine and recognized him by his big nose and floppy ears. They were so distinctive, so unmistakable so big! The trouble with student reunions especially if you were a couple during your student days and the relationship ended badly can be very awkward and quite embarrassing affairs to coin a phrase and this was no different, especially the opening volleys of the conversation. And it was never destined to start well, especially from Valentine's point of view because he was the jilted party, and to make matters worse it was his best mate. I presume you're still with that bastard then after all these years. I would imagine that you've probably sired about ten kids by now. Christ you must be worn. Lydia! I always knew the pair of you would breed like rabbits because that's the only thing he ever knew. Who would have thought that eh? Shagging his best mate's girlfriend and he didn't stop there. Oh no! After you, he must have shagged half the university campus. If you think that's bad believe it or not he also liked men. I kept trying to tell you but you wouldn't listen to me. I only had your interests at heart and it wouldn't surprise me if you'd have caught some strange sexual infection. Oh no, that wouldn't surprise me because he'd shag a brick wall if it could have given him sexual pleasure. I always believed he should have been locked up for sexual perversion anyway! Lydia cut Valentine's rant short in mid-sentence Valentine! What, I haven't finished yet, I've been wanting to say this to that fornicating bastard for years he deserves every word of it, do you know I never trusted him from day one he was the most untrustworthy wanker that I ever met if I was being strictly honest, I only befriended him because I felt sorry for him and why you decided to shack up him heaven knows he was always as ugly as sin, you must have realized by now that I would always have much more to offer you than him, I don't know why you did that Lydia if it wasn't going to be me you could always have done better than that miserable son of a bitch where is he anyway! Valentine. What I've just come from his funeral, he's dead. I thought you'd received my letter. You were sent an invite to the funeral but it never arrived. There were quite a few of our old friends from our student days. Well, that's a shame. Sorry Lydia but that's not an excuse. Valentine opened his packet of cheese and onion crisps. You must be hungry Lydia do you want a couple of my crisps? EPISODE FOUR VALENTINE'S SCRAMBLED EGGS Sometimes Valentine had this terrible dream of loneliness and Isolation which almost overwhelmed him at times. He was starting to feel desperate, as he staggered around in the bottom of the empty beer barrel. All of a sudden he woke from a bizarre dream and realised his scrambled eggs were burning. He opened his eyes and it was the middle of the day. It's time to have my first pint of the day he thought. Valentine eventually sobered up and came to his senses, and realised he had fallen asleep revising because it was that boring. He was sitting at the table in the middle of the college library, and this geeky little girl with a brace on her teeth was sitting there smiling at him. Charlie Valentine of number 23 Knockers Avenue. It's time to go to your next lecture he thought to himself. And this geeky girl was still sitting there smiling at him. And then it hit Valentine like a ton of bricks. He'd left his fishing tackle out on the washing line and it was there for all to see. It was there for her to see. That was how he met Doreen Tonker from Chadsmoor. His first serious girlfriend was strangely at Cannock Chase Technical College. She'd been sitting there for a couple of hours while he was snoring his head off staring at the ferret that was dangling out of his trousers. As it turned out the afternoon lectures were a complete waste of time because Valentine was completely lost in love. So any chance of him concentrating on the Spanish Conquistadors and the Royal Hunt of the Sun had been thrown straight out of the college window. He was in the students' common room chatting up Doreen Tonker from Chadsmoor. For some inexplicable reason only known to William Shakespeare and the War Poets and of course Gandalf and the Fellowship of the Ring she thinks he's a good-looking chap and the sun shines out of his arse which is why Valentine is being so nice and paying for her to go to see the latest James Bond movie with him and buying her a couple of G and T's in the Royal Oak, and then stupidly he offers to pay her bus fare home from Cannock bus station to Chadsmoor which is in spitting distance and wouldn't have taken her five minutes to walk home. She gives him a romantic kiss as she climbs onto the last bus to Chadsmoor which is about thirty seconds away as the crow flies. And she gives him a romantic wave goodbye as she starts to snigger on the back seat of the bus. And Valentine stands there like some gormless moron with shit for brains and thinks he's doing what all good boyfriends are supposed to do until the bus disappears over the hill. And he realises that it's chucking it down with rain and he's soaking wet and even worse he's left his trench coat in the Royal Oak and they are just locking up for the night. How stupid is that? But Valentine reasoned with himself that every prospective knobhead has to start somewhere! But he didn't care because Charlie Valentine of number 23 Knockers Avenue was in love and it felt wonderful. Unfortunately, he had a really bad cold for the next two or three days so he didn't go out of the house because he felt like he was dying. Cannock Chase Technical College would have to wait until Valentine was feeling better and he had his trench coat back from the Royal Oak. After his sixth phone call of the day from the love of his life to tell her that he wasn't going to die from pneumonia and that he would make a complete recovery and would meet up with her again in the Ascot Tavern on Friday, Valentine lay back on the bed sneezed his head off and carried on listening to the Average White Band on his cheap hi-fi whilst reading page one hundred and thirty seven of the Fellowship of the Ring when he should have been reading about W.B.Yates and the war Poets but that was the last thing on Valentine's mind because as far as he was concerned he was one of the Romantics like Coleridge and all he could think about were pansies and daffodils or something like that of William Wordsworth and wandering about like a fairy in a lost cloud. But you have to keep in mind that this lovey-dovey thing had never happened to Valentine before so he was floating around on cloud nine somewhere and drinking too much Benalyn. And as much as his mates kept laughing behind his back it all seemed very serious and an important new step in Valentine's botched attempt at being a responsible adult. No don't laugh on the back row. The next step would be to sneak into the gents in the Royal Oak and work out how to use the Durex machine! EPISODE FIVE JOHNNY B. GOODE The trouble with being a lazy bugger like Charlie Valentine is that he's always thinking to himself at the back of that hyperactive sexually charged inept brain of his that eventually his lack of planning would lead to a rather embarrassing climax when he gets caught with his hand down the blouse of the cleaning lady at the college. Well, it's an interesting fantasy anyway. It was the hot summer of 1976 and most of the alpha male students in the college usually had the top three buttons of their shirts undone to show their chest wigs were growing as nature had intended, particularly the coal miners on the ground floor who insisted on taking their shirts off altogether and lying on the grass verge by the bus station opposite the college entrance to wolf whistle all the trainee secretaries coming out. That is until the senior lecturer of the coal mining section of the college threatened to inform their employers to dock the wages of any trainee miner who wolf-whistled his daughter. If you went to the college, you would have sunbathed on the grass verge next to the bus station at some point. That is unless you were a member of the student geek club who spent the majority of their spare time in the library revising for exams. This is what Valentine should have been doing but it was far too hot for revising so he decided to go and join the trainee miners and wolf whistle the secretaries coming out and then I suddenly remembered that the love of his life Ruby Lane from Tackeroo would be arriving soon so he'd better put my shirt back on and act normal. Valentine's experimental attempt with the Durex machine in the men's toilets of the Royal Oak was a complete and utter disaster because he put his money in and nothing came out so he started to panic and thump the machine in his utter frustration. And then just as Valentine was about to tear the Durex machine off the wall this Hell's angel the size of the toilet door walked in and started laughing at him and said You as well? well mate between you and me I don't think they put any Johnny in there. I think it's a fucking big con for the Brewery to make some easy money. And when you do get one out of there they're usually fucking faulty. I had one with a puncture and I was screwing this big fat Mama from Wolverhampton and it nearly cost me my livelihood because if I'd have got her pregnant she would have expected me to have done the honourable thing but I'd already asked three other girls for there hand in marriage so how would I have explained that to them eh! No, go and ask for your money back from the barmaid behind the counter and go and use the one in the Ascot tavern instead. They're bigger better and more reliable. You're big dangler has more room to move about and get comfortable. And you get them in different colours for every day of the week. I have sex seven times a week and I'm using my red johnny tonight because that's my favourite colour. Go on mate, go and ask for your money back or I will if you are too shy. It doesn't bother me one bit. But that was the last thing on his mind because Valentine wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible before anybody recognised him. Fortunately in the Royal Oak, there's a back entrance which leads to the car park at the back of the pub so as soon as the gorilla had gone he made his escape through the back door. And from that point onwards Valentine had a serious hang-up about using those damn machines until somebody explained to him that you could get them for free from the NHS. The rest of the day was spent looking after the love of his life but that's what a boyfriend has to do if he's serious, or at least that's what Valentine assumed anyway. Having spent most of his afternoon hand in hand with Ruby in Cannock Park Valentine had a history seminar to attend and it turns out that they're all going on a field trip to Coalbrookdale in the morning to learn about the Industrial Revolution and wander around some old brick kilns and railway museum but at least there was a decent pub where he could grab a pint and a game of pool. EPISODE 6. RANDY BUMMER. Valentine was sailing on the astral plane of student life like a rudderless ship on a pink fluffy ocean. He was the coolest dude in his Genesis tee shirt and his bell-bottom jeans. Or so he thought. The ultimate Cannock drunken beer-swilling party animal. And then something incredibly miraculous happened. He was walking home from a party when a crazy guy came flying around a sharp bend in his psychedelic love bug Morris Minor at high speed with Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze blasting out of his 100-watt woofer and tweeters and knocked him six feet up into the air in a cloud of dust. Miraculously Valentine survived. When he came to his senses all he could remember was this weird guy with star-shaped glasses and a long pointed nose poking him with a stick and sniffing around his face. And then he understood. He was dead and had been reborn in Middle Earth and Gandalf was poking him with his staff to see if he was still alive. When in fact he had just been run over by a fucking madman saying have you been smoking weed man I've got some in the back of my spaceship. To which Valentine replied you bastard you nearly killed me, But after a couple of beers and a packet of cheese and onion crisps, they'd sorted out their differences. And the Fellowship of the Ring had begun. They knew that it was a sign. Which is why Bummer and Valentine became partners in crime. It was meant to be. Randy was so cool because the Morris Minor was his spaceship that could fly him to the moon providing he had smoked enough dope! He slept in it and did virtually everything in it apart from using it as a toilet. He drew a line in the sand there. The one thing that he conveniently forgot to tell Valentine was that he bought the Moggy Minor from his uncle for fifty quid because it had failed its m.o.t. and he was driving around on a provisional licence but apart from that everything was cool. Randy was a coalminer of sorts because he mined for Mythryl. He loved his silver chains, bangles and beads, he had so many on his wrists and around his neck its a wonder he was able to stand up. The only problem was how he was going to explain it to Doreen. The funny thing about drinking over at the Royal Oak and not going back to lectures was that they ended up having a drink with the lecturers who were teaching them and very often they'd rock up halfway through apologize then a couple of hours later they'd be playing darts with the same lecturer after they had finished our lectures for the day. Where was the sense in that? But you don't see sense do you because they were enjoying themselves too much and more importantly they were learning about adult things and adult life, or at least, that's what Valentine and Randy were trying to do, but they were fumbling their way through life pretending that they knew everything but knowing very little. But it was serious stuff and Valentine was trying to act sixteen going on nineteen which was quite embarrassing really because the image did not fit the reality. To a teenage boy who thinks he is Robert Redford's twin brother every time he looks at himself when he looks in the mirror, life can be hilarious, especially as regards members of the opposite sex, and particularly if they are slightly older than you. You have to try and be one step ahead of them in the conversation when in fact you are three steps behind! But you don't realize it when you are trying to chat up an older girl in that more often than not, they have sussed you before you even uttered your first word! So what do you think is being clever, isn't clever at all because it's stupid? Do you see where this conversation is going? Well, it all becomes a little clearer when you listen to the story that I am about to tell you of the failed attempt by Randy Bummer and Robert Redford's twin brother to try to chat up two older girls in the Royal Oak in Cannock one night. Randy had this theory that you could get a girl to go for a night out with you if you could drop into the conversation that you had your car and that it was sitting in the car park waiting there right now to give them a lift to the nearest night club and get them back home again. Or so the theory goes. But the trouble is that you have to try and convince them that it's a Ferrari when in fact it's a clapped-out fucking Morris Minor with no Mot and the driver has only got a provisional license. Well, the thing is an older girl can see an arsehole coming from a mile away, and when they see Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid walking towards them, then they know that they are in for an all-expenses-paid, transport included, hilarious night out! All they had to do was go along with the idea that Laurel and Hardy were Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with a Ferrari sitting in the pub car park which was a Morris Minor, with no mot and a driver that hadn't even passed his driving test yet! I mean how stupid can you get! Well, needless to say, it turned out to be a very expensive evening and they didn't get a peck on the cheek or a phone number!