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I drive Bob Dolezal to his appointment with Dr. Scott Sherman.

Sherman asks how things are going generally, then goes through a list of symptoms.

Speech? Good. Excessive salivation? Overnight. Dressing? Slower. Turning in bed? Takes a little more exertion. Falls? I tripped over a curb the other day. Freezing? Moderate. Trouble walking? Not yet.

The list goes on for a while. Bob reports moderate Parkinson's disease symptoms in most categories.

Memory?

"I'm afraid when I don't know every fifth word or sixth word," says Bob. "I try to write. I can't put things together worth a damn."

Sherman narrates Bob's physical exam.

"Good movement, no rigidity in arms and legs. Touch your nose to your finger, coordination is pretty good. Raise your arms, good. Fold your arms and stand up. Good.

"The meds have kicked in — you're in the on-state. The main thing is dyskinesia. That's a sign of a little too much medicine. . . . It's difficult to get the meds just right."

Bob has been taking medication for Parkinson's for more than 15 years, and it's normal for the meds to lose effectiveness, Sherman tells me later.

Doctors and researchers don't fully understand why that happens, but Sherman believes dopamine replacement stops being fully effective as cells vanish.

"It doesn't stop working, it starts working erratically. It no longer lasts as long as you want. There are new side effects, most notably dyskinesia."

"Early on," he says, "the cells compensate for the stupidity of the physician."

Sherman, who joked at a recent forum that, as a neurologist, he comes from a "diagnose and adios" tradition, seems the antithesis of the uncaring doctor.

Sherman, associate professor of neurology and physiology at the University of Arizona, is excited about the cell- and gene-therapy studies that he oversees there, but he says the real strides have come in treatment.

New drugs, new techniques and advances in surgery have made it easier to fine-tune deployment of the limited arsenal of medications available.

With Bob, he says, "my role, at this point, is really to say, 'Have we optimized the meds or the treatment? Is there something we can do to improve life?'"

When he examined Bob, said Sherman, "I thought he was doing pretty well.

"At this point, we divide a patient's day into three parts: the off-state, the on-state, the on-state with dyskinesia. At a certain point, no matter how we slice and dice the meds, we're no longer able to keep the patient in that narrow window."

Bob might benefit from deep-brain stimulation, said Sherman. Wires are transplanted into the area of the brain that controls motor movement, the area where dopamine usually goes to work.

Bob has little interest in that procedure. He's known people for whom it didn't work well. He's afraid of the operation and what a mistake might cause.

Sherman said he understands Bob's reluctance, though advances have produced better, safer results over time. "My role is to make the patient aware of it," he said.

He said he doesn't recommend it for every patient who qualifies. It can improve lifestyle, but it's not a cure, he said.

Right now, Bob and his doctors are working to fine-tune his mix of medications and produce the biggest window each day of "on-state" without dyskinesia.

Ultimately, said Sherman, "the non-movement symptoms become more severe. Balance, the risk for fall, cognitive problems. For some patients with PD, it can lead to loss of independence."

Parkinson's can proceed to outright dementia in some cases, he said.

The annual fundraiser for the Arizona chapter of the American Parkinson Disease Association, a wine-tasting at St. Philip's Plaza, honors Bob for his contributions to the fight against Parkinson's.

Speakers recount his successful lobbying and introduce Bob, who recites his "Ode to Muhammad Ali," the poem he wrote and recited to the champ to thank him for his championship of the Parkinson's cause.

Bob urges his audience to continue lobbying their congressional representatives for recognition of the disease and funding for medical research. "If you don't do it, we will not win — and our cause is just."

It has the feel of a baton pass, Bob back on the old four-man relay team at Wahoo High. He's run his leg and it's time for somebody else to finish it off.

Jerry Dolezal is in town with several missions — to attend this event honoring his dad, to help Bob clean up and organize his apartment, to watch him drive his vehicle. He wants to get a feel for Bob's ability to continue driving or even living on his own.

Ex-wife Judy, also in attendance, has been talking with their daughter Lisa on the same subject. Lisa will be in town in April. She'd like her dad to move to New York where he could spend more time with the grandkids and she could keep closer tabs on his care.

Bob isn't ready for that. He likes Broadway Proper. He has a huge social network in Tucson. Lisa's home in Purchase, N.Y., is a long way from Bob Dobbs.

Bob asks if April Fool's is a holiday in the Jewish faith. In the glare of sunlight streaming through his west window, he has mistaken the sunglasses atop my head for a yarmulke.

Jerry and his wife, Denise, have done a good job of helping him clean up his apartment. You can see the floor. His friend Brenda Censori is here, helping him further organize his files and papers.

Bob's getting his act together. He and Lisa have agreed that he'll stay here at Broadway Proper for now. She'd like him to hire a caretaker to keep him on track with pills and bills and drive him to Bob Dobbs when "steak night" beckons.

We carry Bob's cue sticks down the hall and shoot pool as some of his neighbors in the next room go through dance-exercise routines at a clip that accelerates from Andy Williams' "Moon River" to Aretha Franklin's "Respect." Bob sings along as he circles the table.

Bob's meds either haven't kicked in or they've worn off. His feet freeze as he studies a shot.

So he hops — once to the rear, once to the right. He lines up the shot and sinks the 8-ball, winning the second of two games.

I demand a third game and I win it.

I'm not cutting Bob any slack.

He doesn't need it — yet.

He doesn't want it — ever.

On StarNet: Read the series and watch Bob Dolezal on video. go.azstarnet.com/parkinsons.

Parkinson's research tours are offered at the University of Arizona College of Medicine.

Tour the Parkinson's research labs of Drs. Scott Sherman, Brian McKay and Torsten Falk. Learn about gene therapy and cell-based treatments for Parkinson's.

Free and open to the public.

Upcoming tour dates are April 22, May 13 and May 22.

Contact Linda Benedict.

Phone: 626-2827.

E-mail: lbenedic@email.arizona.edu.