At age 30, my life took a dramatic turn. I noticed a tremor in my right hand when my son was 6 weeks old and my daughter was 3. I remember sitting on my hand at my 6-week postpartum appointment to try to stop it from moving.

I was a registered nurse and the tremor began to interfere with my work. I was asking other nurses to start IV’s for me because my hand was too unsteady. My handwriting became illegible. Muscle rigidity made walking more difficult, then I began dragging my right leg.

I was 32, married, with 2- and 5-year-old children when we received the news. The neurologist told me late one day in October that I had young-onset Parkinson’s disease (YOPD). While it hit me like a ton of bricks, I was relieved to finally have a name for what was happening. The diagnosis came with a harsh outlook. My neurologist told me that within 10 years I would be in a wheelchair, unable to care for myself or my children.

I attempted to go about life as usual, but my symptoms only worsened. I was unable to continue working due to muscle rigidity, daily freezing episodes and difficulty with multitasking and executive function. Then I became a single mom. I had a choice: I could allow PD to take control of my life or I could fight back.

I heard about Rock Steady Boxing, an organization dedicated to training people with Parkinson’s symptoms through noncontact boxing. However, I didn't have access to any classes in my area, so I started training with a local trainer. After about 15 minutes into my workout with my new coach, an eight-time world kickboxing champion, my body began to freeze, and I couldn’t move at all. It was that tough. My trainer wholeheartedly believed in me and never allowed me to give up. He’d often stop class to give me a shot of my PD medication to get me moving again. Then I would get back in the ring and finish.

One day he started to get the medicine, and I told him, “No, let’s just push through it.” So, he made a deal with me, saying, “I won’t give you the shot unless you’re on the floor and you can’t move.” He guided me through the hardest workout I ever endured. It was so intense that it forced my body to move past my physical limitations. I made it through without the injection for the first time. I felt better than ever, and that’s when everything began to change. My tremor began to disappear. Gradually, the freezing episodes occurred less and less. My mind and body started connecting again. It was life changing.

Although my life had been completely turned upside down, the diagnosis put me on the path to a healthier, more active lifestyle. I received the gift of a better life since my diagnosis, and this became my “why.” I wanted to give the incredible boxing program back to our community and help others live a better life with Parkinson’s disease, too. 

Four years ago, I met Josh Ripley and we co-founded PD Fighters in Newbury Park, CA. It was an amazing success and we knew we had to do more. People were lining up after every class just to ask questions. Out of a need for not just a class, but something much more, we founded Neuroboxing, a concept incorporating our noncontact boxing fitness with functional training and yoga, Pilates and mindfulness.

In addition to boxing for the last 9 years, I climbed Mt. Etna, an active volcano just under 11,000 feet, in 2014 with a team of 100 people from the U.S., Germany, Spain and Italy to raise awareness for PD/AD. I have been running in the LA Marathon’s 5K for Team Parkinson for the last 3 years. I will be participating in Moving Day North LA for my second year and Moving Day Louisville in my home state of Kentucky in June.

My next challenges: training for a return to Sicily for the “10 Mountains 10 Years” ambassador project, and a Golf Tournament in Simi Valley, CA, to benefit the Parkinson’s Foundation Moving Day North LA walk and Neuroboxing.

Despite the achievements there will always be adjustments, challenges and bumps in the road. Due to a manufacture change, I’ve been battling unpredictability of new medications. There will always be more mountains to climb, complete with distractions and detours. But when you live with a passionate heart and serious motivation, you just keep fighting, and when you find your passion, you never ever want to do anything else. It’s truly a beautiful gift I have been given, and one I’m grateful to share with our Parkinson’s community.

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When I learned that my father had Parkinson disease I felt a range of emotions. It was as though I was helpless, powerless to stop the disease that was affecting someone so close to me. At that point I made a decision to take a stand against the disease and to help fight for the cure. My father, Marty Ardman, has been doing that for years by helping to raise thousands of dollars for the National Parkinson Foundation (NPF).

He volunteers at the Foundation on a weekly basis working closely with NPF Chairman Emeritus, Nathan Slewett. My father has shown me all the amazing work NPF does to help people with Parkinson disease and to help find a cure.

I decided I would do the same and raise money for NPF by running in the Nashville half marathon. I was no longer helpless, no longer powerless. I decided to ask my brother-in-law, Jack Lapidus, and my close friends in Nashville, Jessica Averbuch, Alizah Greenberg, Jessie Rosenblum, and Patti Straus, to join me. After contacting the National Parkinson Foundation, I learned of a wonderful online fundraising tool on the NPF website called “Community Fundraising.”

I was able to create my own custom web page which allowed me to post pictures, tell my story, and track the donations. Initially, I decided to start small and set my goal for $1,000; however, my Nashville girlfriends told me that if you dream big anything is possible. We decided on a team name, “Running Wild,” and a new goal of raising $10,000. We all set off to work, writing a solicitation letter and getting a friend to create a “Running Wild” logo.

We then gathered the names and addresses of anyone the six of us had ever known, spoken to, or had even the most remote connection to. Over 1,000 letters went out asking donors to contribute online by visiting our web page or by sending a check. We were shocked by the generosity of the response from people all over the country, many of whom we hardly knew. Every day my teammates and I anxiously waited for the mail and checked the web page for donations.

We were amazed to find out how many people, including friends and relatives, have been touched in some way by Parkinson disease. I am proud to say that team “Running Wild,” inspired by my amazing dad, Marty Ardman, raised almost $13,000 for the National Parkinson Foundation. He is someone who, no matter what the circumstance, always looks on the bright side and sees the glass as half full.

He is optimistic in every situation and always lives life to the fullest. My dad is a motivated, determined, hard-working individual who tackles any problem that comes his way. He is, and always has been, a family man who puts his family first. He is loved and respected so much by his family, friends, and anyone who ever meets him.

Growing up, I always admired people who cared for and provided for others. It was something taught to me by my grandmother each and every day. As I grew older, this became something that I was very passionate about and has fed my soul to say the least. This passion wasn’t just about volunteer work, but it was about showing individuals in all different communities that I cared and that I was there to help in any way shape or form. I have been lucky to have the opportunities to show this care in many ways. From fundraising for organizations and traveling abroad to work in orphanages with kids with disabilities, to working directly with individuals that just needed a helping hand.

This passion continued in grad school where I became a volunteer and exercise assistant at the Neuro Wellness Center at Fort Hays State University. The Center introduced me to a new community — the Parkinson's community. While working at the Center, I took knowledge from school, as well as my passion for caring, and applied it while working with individuals with Parkinson's disease (PD). From checking vitals and leading symptom specific exercises, to just spending quality, one-on-one time with them.

Fast forwarding to the present day and now living in Chicago, I have grown my relationships within the Parkinson's community and those who are a part of it. I currently work as an Exercise Specialist for my own company with a focus on helping people diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. While exercise is a big part of our time together, I also spend time with them doing activities they love and that bring them quality of life. I also support my clients, as well as the Parkinson's community, by volunteering for the Parkinson’s Foundation.

My first Moving Day experience was in 2018 when I worked for Movement Revolution which specializes in community-based exercise for individuals with neurological conditions. We participated to provide exercise resources to the community, as well as show support for our clients. The Moving Day 2018 experience was fulfilling but I wanted to help more and make a bigger impact, so I joined the Moving Day committee.

My goal was to help in any way needed so I assisted with making calls to past attendees, fundraising and volunteering at the event itself. Also, during meetings, I shared the opinions of those I know with Parkinson’s so their voices were heard too. Raising funds and being a part of the Moving Day Chicago Committee, brings so much joy to me.

I have recently been more involved with the Parkinson's Foundation and I am currently helping with the Parkinson's Revolution ride. I'll be there as a volunteer, but also riding with my clients!

Now, I do not myself have Parkinson’s, but as a part of the LGBTQ community, I know what it feels like to be lost, overwhelmed, and unsure how to take the next step. Part of that uncertainty is what also drove me to help others. I want individuals of the Parkinson’s and LGBTQ communities to know that there are people out there that care. People out there that will help you with the uncertainties and bring back the quality you deserve in your life.

Get involved with your local Parkinson’s community at Parkinson.org/GetInvolved

My story begins in the fall of 1992, when I joined the rowing team as a freshman at the University of Buffalo, in Buffalo, New York. I immediately fell in love with the sport, particularly the physical and mental challenge, and being on the water. As a rower, I loved the training, the team atmosphere, and the identity it provided me. I rowed all throughout college and continued to row competitively for several years after college. Recently I’ve been rowing at the Masters level, meaning as an adult with a job and other responsibilities.

Things changed in the fall of 2017. I was doing my normal training and getting ready for a big race, the Head of the Charles, which takes place at the end of October in Boston. Something seemed different this fall. My rowing technique, which I spent years working on, felt wrong. I also felt unusually tired and weak. I shrugged it off and thought I was just getting old or needed to change my training. Unfortunately, the feeling of fatigue didn’t improve and actually got worse. Then, in the spring of 2018 I developed a tremor in my left hand and foot, and my left arm would no longer swing when I walked. After seeing several doctors and having several diagnostic tests, I was diagnosed with young-onset Parkinson’s disease. This was just before my 44th birthday. I didn’t know how to take that diagnosis at first.

One of the first things I thought was that my days as a competitive rower were over. After several months of dwelling on things, I returned to rowing, albeit slower and more awkwardly than I’d like.

During the spring of 2019, I reached out to USRowing, the governing body of rowing, inquiring about being designated as an adaptive or Paralympic rower, thinking it would allow me to compete in local races. I ended up getting invited to the Paralympic training camp in Boston in early June and eventually ended up in a two-person boat that raced at the 2019 World Rowing Championships in Linz, Austria finishing in sixth place.

My main symptoms are a significant tremor in my left hand and left foot, my left arm doesn’t swing while I walk, I have trouble sleeping, and I have anxiety that I never had prior to the onset of the Parkinson’s. To treat the disease, I do a variety of things including taking traditional pharmaceutical drugs, using a hyperbaric chamber, and taking a variety of supplements, as well as other treatments.

Currently, I’m training full-time with the goal to qualify for the Tokyo Paralympics in the summer of 2021. I’m currently training approximately 20 hours a week between rowing, weight training, cycling, and yoga.

*Video excerpt from Unfixed docu-series

My wife and I moved to Canada in 1998 with our two toddlers. It was a stressful relocation, from the tropical breezes of Haiti to the arctic winds of Ottawa. The next year, I noticed a twitch in my left hand and experienced painful leg cramps that woke me at night.

These symptoms started to interfere with my writing and sleep. I had always been the picture of good health — active, athletic, clean eating, and a non-smoker — so I chalked these problems to the tension and fatigue that accompanied a move to a new position, a new house and new country, all while raising two extremely energetic boys. However, as the involuntary movements became more pronounced, I made a doctor’s appointment.

In early 2001, I finally learned the results. It was a gray, bleak February day that often-characterized winter in Ottawa. It was a fitting setting for the doctor’s equally bleak verdict that my twitching left thumb and muscle cramps were likely Multiple Sclerosis. Tests led to this diagnosis of young-onset Parkinson’s disease (YOPD), leaving me shell-shocked.

Sure, I knew of Parkinson’s: it was an old people’s disease, affecting my Great-Aunt Esther whose handwriting got shakier with each passing birthday card.  But I was only 44, with a young family — my wife, two sons ages four and five, a promising career and lots to look forward to in life. I asked him to double check he had the right lab report…

Aside from the initial trauma on receiving this news, my wife and I realized we didn’t really know much about this disease. Whether and when to tell others about my diagnosis was a key concern. As a Foreign Service Officer for the U.S. Department of State, I had served in Zaire (now Congo), Japan, Madagascar and Haiti. With 14 years of service completed, and intentions to serve again in hardship posts overseas — required to move up the ladder in the State Department — I knew that having my medical clearance withdrawn would end advancement opportunities. Being the perpetual optimist, I told myself that this couldn’t be the first time that disability struck the FSO corps, and there must be some way to continue doing the fascinating job that I loved. But I soon found that I was pretty much on my own. I had access to few State Department resources and PD was a medical disqualification.

I started furtively researching PD on my own. Thankfully, the internet made information more accessible, Ottawa had excellent libraries, and I lived close enough to the U.S. to have access to more resources, such as the Parkinson’s Foundation.   

The more I read about PD, and given my lack of family history of PD, the more it appeared that my diagnosis may have been triggered by my Foreign Service work and residence. As an economic and environment reporting officer, I was frequently trudging through farmers’ fields, investigating rumored toxic waste areas or visiting developing world factories with few OSHA worker health standards. I recalled that during this time, some of my colleagues became ill from exposure to chemical fumigations. Exposure to noxious fertilizers, chemicals, and poor environmental conditions are now thought to be elements that may trigger Parkinson’s, particularly if one has a genetic make-up that predisposes one to the disease.  

I decided to treat my PD as a manageable chronic illness. Indeed, I would use PD to prove the point that the United States should be represented overseas not just by people of many different ethnicities and races, but by persons with great capabilities beyond their disabilities, limps and even shakes!

America’s diverse society should be its trademark abroad, representing its strength by its diversity.  New medications and treatments were coming on-stream that made living with PD possible, a better option than just succumbing to physical decline.   

At times my optimism was met with a stark realism in the competitive world of diplomacy. However, some disabilities were clearly more acceptable than others, and I soon discovered that some of my old-school colleagues were less than supportive. I chose to not disclose my diagnosis for several years.

At the same time, my wife and I planned for the future. We needed to transition her back into the workforce to eventually take over support of the family while I remained working for as long as possible. I put myself on a rigorous routine of exercise and diet to maintain my ability to function. This was a daily battle.

I started doing strength and stretching exercises to counteract the muscles and tendons that seem to tighten-up. At the time, my left foot was just beginning to drag a bit, but I could still run. Canada is beautiful place to exercise, bike, hike and ski. I walked as much as possible — at least two miles a day to keep my legs strong and make walking automatic again instead of a conscious process.  

After a few years of playing crypto-PD patient, I was relieved when State Department granted me a “class two” medical clearance, which allowed me to continue my career and work in counties with access to good health care. I was posted to Belgium, where my family and I remained for the next four years, but I was plagued by terrible reactions to the European-sourced PD medications, which left me alternately nauseated or drowsy.

My problems with mobility and balance became more pronounced, and I had to work harder to maintain and re-train my legs each morning to avoid the tyranny of small steps that PD imposes. Despite their charms, quaint European cobblestone streets and older mass transit systems were not disability friendly. I routinely went to the gym to maintain muscle and balance. I believe that exercise and weight training remain the most essential self-help one can practice, in addition to diet. 

A devout coffee drinker, I gave up caffeine to reduce its effect on my tremors and minimize any interference with sleep. I also limited my intake of refined sugar and sodium, which was challenging in the pastry-rich environment of Belgium and France. Although my wife and I had always been mindful about maintaining a healthy family diet, a lower protein regime eating less red meat and more fruits and vegetables proved necessary and helpful. For me, this type of diet relieves some of PD’s non-motor symptoms. These years of trying to balance my PD with a hectic work schedule continued, when I took on a final four-year assignment in Tel Aviv, Israel, followed by shorter assignments in Paris and Reykjavik, Iceland.

I worked another 15 years after my initial diagnosis, taking up diplomatic posts in Belgium, Israel, France, and Iceland. Fortunately, I had the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) behind me to facilitate “reasonable accommodation” in the workplace, when items such as ergonomic keyboards and better desk chairs were needed. However, these accommodations were not always possible in international environments. 

Fortunately, when I opted for early retirement a few years ago at 58, I found the Parkinson’s Foundation was the ideal group to channel my energy. Through its online resources and references I researched PD thoroughly, along with medications and treatments.

I enrolled in clinical studies, trained with the Foundation to become a research advocate, furthering PD research, lobbying Congress to increase funding for training and greater awareness of the growing numbers of people with PD, soon to reach one million Americans. Ultimately, I had the good fortune to join the Foundation’s Parkinson’s Foundation People with Parkinson’s Advisory Council, where I try to guide the agenda we pursue as the PD community.

Although my sons may have never known their father without a limp, or a “shakey” left hand as they used to say, PD has not kept us from traveling and enjoying many experiences and outdoor activities together, just as we did before my diagnosis — albeit with modifications and more planning. It is nearing 18 years since that bleak day in Ottawa, and I still try to maintain the structure and discipline of my work life. I wake up and practice a stretching-yoga routine. I have an agenda of support groups I assist and PD clinical research in which I participate. Of course, there are many medical appointments to keep and exercise remains the core of my PD management program. I have come to a stand-off with the disease: Parkinson’s may in part define what I am — a stubborn 17-year survivor — but it does not define who I am. 

We honor the loss of Paul Rohrlich, who has passed away since the publishing of his story. We value his commitment to the Parkinson's community and dedication to PD advocacy. 

It’s been nearly two years, but it feels like yesterday when the doctor told me I have Parkinson’s disease (PD). My First worry was what it would mean to my family. Then, of course I was concerned about how it will affect my second great passion golf.

In my 20s, I took a job as the women’s coach at the University of Southern California and played golf on the Ladies Professional Golfer’s Association (LPGA) tour as a minor league pro. I put the game on hold for nearly two decades while my husband and I were raising our three children. Then, in the late 90s, I joined the Futures Golf Tour, competing in more than 36 tournaments over three years.

Gradually, I began to feel something was wrong. My right arm often seemed frozen at my side, my right foot dragged and I tired easily. It felt like I had only half a body. My golf game suffered. I struggled just to sign my name. I hoped it was a pinched nerve, but thought it could be something worse.

My son, Baltimore Orioles Catcher Gregg Zaun, set me up for a battery of tests with his team doctors. In 2003, I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease.

I felt helpless. I read everything I could to learn how to live my life in spite of the disease. Armed with information, I set out to fight the battle against Parkinson’s

Today, I’m able to teach and play golf again.* I talk about PD with doctors and other Parkinson’s Patients. Every day, I learn more about this disease is still in it’s impact on the body and spirit.

My disease is still in it’s early stages, so I don’t have any tremors. I’m taking medicine, including a drug called Mirapex ( pramipexole dihydrochloride tablets), one of a class of medications called dopamine agonists. I’m exercising (I find yoga and golf especially helpful) and I welcome the support of my family and friends.

Living with Parkinson’s disease is not all that different from doing great at the round of golf- it takes practice and determination.

My doctor is optimistic that, one day, a cure will be discovered. Meanwhile, my initial fear of the disease is gone and my joy of life has never been stronger. I wish the same for you!

“I keep active so I can keep up with my son,” said Tyaisha Blount-Dillon, a dedicated mom of 8-year-old William-Wallace and wife who is living with Young-Onset Parkinson’s disease. “My husband and I enjoy going to my son’s baseball games. I have a goal that if he is playing baseball in college, I am going to attend without using any assistive devices. I don't allow myself to imagine anything else.”

In the near decade since Tyaisha was diagnosed at age 35, her determination to live a long, healthy life with Parkinson’s disease (PD) has only strengthened. Today, Tyaisha helps and listens to others living with the disease, because she knows just how difficult getting a diagnosis can be. She hopes that her appearance in “Better Lives. Together.” the Parkinson’s Foundation public service announcement (PSA) will spread critically needed awareness to the millions of people who live with or love someone with PD.

“I hope that this video really informs everybody because when I didn't have a diagnosis is when I most used the Parkinson's Foundation,” said Tyaisha. “The website offers so much information, and so many resources, like the Helpline, that are so empowering.”

When Tyaisha was officially diagnosed in 2013, she had already forged a proactive path toward better health. She had spent nearly 10 years searching in vain for the cause of her debilitating symptoms, including extreme fatigue and painful muscle cramps (which she later found out was a form of dystonia common in Young-Onset PD). Her age and gender were not considered typical of PD, and as a Black woman experiencing bias in healthcare, finding proper medical care was that much more challenging.

“I was very athletic, and I still am, so my physique did not look like someone who was ill,” said Tyaisha. “Doctors would tell me that I wasn't sick, but why would I tell them I was having trouble walking if nothing was wrong? Doctors did not believe me, and I could not find any medical support.”

Tyaisha did her best to push through her mounting pain and fatigue. Ultimately, after experiencing a heartbreaking pregnancy loss prior to her pregnancy with William-Wallace, she knew she had to be even more aggressive in finding out what was wrong.

“There was a point in 2010 where I could barely walk. I was lethargic and I didn’t know what was wrong,” said Tyaisha. “My brain was not coming together properly with my body.”

Relying on her research and what she remembered from her physical therapy courses in college, Tyaisha designed an exercise regimen for herself. She hired a personal trainer and set out to eat healthier. “I was walking better and getting stronger,” she said.

She became pregnant again, unwavering in her dream of being a healthy, active and involved mom. “I kind of had to put myself in a position to fight, because I knew this was not the end for me,” she said.

Tyaisha’s pregnancy with William Wallace also created a sense of urgency for her healthcare team to find a diagnosis. She eventually found a doctor she trusted. “He had the patience and the understanding I was looking for in a provider,” said Tyaisha.

After undergoing several neurological tests, Tyaisha’s care team finally arrived at a Parkinson’s diagnosis. With a newly prescribed course of medications, her health continued to improve.

She gave birth to a healthy son, William-Wallace, who follows his mom’s active example. “I demonstrate to him that every day is a new day,” she said. “If I had a bad day yesterday, I forget about it and start over.”

While Tyaisha’s journey with PD has included ups and downs, she has continued to find new ways to adapt. She shifted from a high-stress full time job to self-employment. She underwent deep brain stimulation (DBS) surgery to help control her movement symptoms when her son was just six years old. She continues to stay active every day, whether gardening, working out with her trainer or playing with her son.

"Parkinson’s stretches you — it can force you to do things that you never thought you would be able to do,” said Tyaisha. “You just need to develop ways to fight through it. People may feel that they cannot improve, but I am living proof that you can.”

Watch our “Better Lives. Together.” public service announcement