Meeting “The General”

The morning is crisp, and I can smell frost in the air when I pile into the car with my dad. It’s been a few months since his last “tune up” for his Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS) hardware. I’m at home for a few days, and went along to see what the process is like.

Dad cuts to the chase when we make it to the Henry Ford Hospital. We wind our way through the large hallways, looking at the various communities of sick people along the way. Everyone seems to have that in common– there’s something wrong. When we finally make it to the Parkinson’s department, everyone knew my Dad.

The hospital experience

The DBS program at Henry Ford Hospital is one of the best in the country, and my Dad did his research before landing on this location. But now, it's like he's a part of the place.

The nurse jokes with him, telling him that she knew he would put on 20 pounds after receiving DBS. She wears pink scrubs and a smile that’s larger than life. It isn’t difficult to feel comforted amidst the chaos.

When we make it to our examining room, the nurse takes my Dad’s vitals and asks him a series of questions. I wonder if Dad treats them like it’s a quiz. True or false? Instead of searching internally for the answers. 

After the nurse leaves, my Dad warns me about our upcoming visit. He calls his Doctor “The General,” and wants me to look out for her temperament. It isn’t long before she enters the room, captivating our attention with her poise.

Saving his medication

I don’t know what it is about her that commands so much respect right out the door, but you can tell that she’s built for this industry. The General takes a seat on her chair and directs her laser focus on to my Dad. She says, “Jim, what dosage did we discuss last time you were here?” My Dad responds with certain measurements, looking sullen.

“And what dosage have you been taking?” She continues making her point.

My Dad has been saving his medication. He doesn’t want to grow intolerant or end up drinking a cocktail of pills before his time. But it’s costing him quality of life. He’s optimistic, and I don’t want to take away his spirit. But I worry when I realize he isn’t taking as much Sinemet as his Doctor suggested.

DBS adjustments

After the duo discusses medication management, the General makes some adjustments on her ipad to the hardware in my Dad’s brain. The result is instantaneous. His feet stop shaking, and I wonder how it’s possible to see such a change. Dad explains that it isn’t permanent, and it helps for a while But he’ll eventually revert back to his typical symptoms.

It seems, that even with a magical surgery like Deep Brain Stimulation, it still takes a while to get the hardware right. And Parkinson’s is degenerative, so the requirements continuously change.

Seeing my Dad’s interactions with the staff at Henry Ford Hospital sheds a tremendous amount of light on the DBS experience. They want him to have the best possible life. He’s in it for the long haul.

When “The General” leaves the room, my Dad looks at me with a sly grin on his face and he says: “I told you she’s the General.” We laugh on our way back to the car.