SHAKIN' NOT STIRRED

AuthorHouse

Contents

Acknowledgments.............................................................................ixPrologue....................................................................................xiFlashbacks That I Will Never Forget.........................................................1The Doctor Will See You Now.................................................................7Was This How It Happened?...................................................................21You Can't Learn Unless You Make Mistakes....................................................31"Mom's Not Doing Too Well And The Doctors Aren't Sure What's Wrong....".....................37"Am I Gonna Die?"...........................................................................43Danielle....................................................................................57Everything Happens For A Reason.............................................................71I Can't Hide It Anymore.....................................................................93February 5, 2011 Boca Raton, Florida........................................................101It's A Different View From My Eyes .........................................................109

Chapter One

As I got into my car to drive off to my neurology appointment, I had a painful flashback that popped into my mind before my legs would even allow me to press on the gas pedal of my car. It was a clear picture in my mind that I will never forget, and I'm sure my father felt the exact same way. This was going to be a complete life-changing appointment for me, and all I could think about was a phone call I received my junior year of college, back in 2004 where I played baseball at Greenville College in Illinois. I had gotten a call from my mother telling me that Dad was at work and had back-to-back grand mal seizures on top of the mountains where he worked. My father was a Civil Engineer who worked all his life in the coal mines, as well as surveying land up in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.

He worked extremely hard to provide for our family, but had an alcohol and drug addiction that he battled for nearly 30 years. Mom wasn't sure if he was going to be okay, but she did her best at assuring me that he would be fine. I took the news extremely hard because for the past few years leading up to his seizures, I hadn't had much of a relationship with him. Looking back on that period of time, I wish we would've been closer. Our family had fallen apart during my final 2years of high school, and I always held a grudge against him and my mother. While there is nothing more in the world I would do to take that time back to have a relationship with him; I can't. I was young and dumb. After talking with mom for a while, I made my way from my dorm towards our indoor baseball practice facility. I met with our hitting coach, Brock Friese, later that day before practice to tell him the news, and that I had made the decision to walk away from baseball and school for a week to isolate myself from everyone. Coach Friese tried his best to talk me out of my decision, telling me that this was the time I needed my friends and teammates the most. However, I didn't take his advice, nor did I feel like having a lecture on how I should be acting responsibly. Coach also knew that I wasn't a religious person, but he did politely ask if he could pray for Dad and my family. I looked at him right in the face and wanted to strangle him.

"Coach, God doesn't exist. All these times we pray before and after practice and games, it means nothing. It never helps. If God was such this great person that you talk about, then why has he let this happen to my Dad? Why's he let this happen to me and my family? Oh yeah, some God he is."

Coach Friese sat and watched me go on this tirade for about a minute, until I finally finished acting like an idiot. He looked up at me and apologized for me feeling that way.

"David, I understand you're upset, and you can choose to stay in this room and listen to my pray or you can leave. Either way, I'm going to pray, and trust me,

God will listen."

This was the other thing that killed me. Here I was acting like a complete idiot, discriminating the MAN that all Christians believe in, and it had no effect on Coach at all. After listening to me say all that, he still wanted to pray. How could I walk out at that point?

So I sat across from Coach Friese with my head down, listening to him as he prayed for my dad and my family.

The room that we were in was Coach Carlson's office—Carlson was our head baseball coach. His office had a huge window on the left wall that overlooked our recreation center where we practiced during the winter months, or whenever it was raining outside. I just happened to peek out the window while Coach Friese was praying, and I saw the entire team kneeling down, hats off, as Coach Carlson lead a team prayer as well. This really moved me to see how quickly the team and coaches had gathered around to help me during this tragic time. I knew that Dad was a strong man but wasn't sure how he would respond to this tragic event. I knew Dad had been messed up on drugs and alcohol for a long time, and actually thought that his body just had enough. In the back of my mind, I wasn't sure I'd ever see my father again.

I spent nearly a week isolating myself from all my friends and teammates, only allowing my girlfriend at the time to see me. I drank heavily during that week, hoping to use the alcohol to help me escape from the problems that were going on. I was smarter than that to act in such a way, but I just wasn't mature or strong enough. I knew the alcohol would only be a temporary scapegoat at night, and the same problems would be awaiting me in the morning, along with a pounding headache.

I worried a lot about Mom and Dad during that week. They had split up during my senior year of high school and hadn't really spoken to each other much. In fact, I hadn't spoken to my Dad for a long time because of the anger I still had about them splitting up. I wondered if this situation, this emotional point of family tragedy would bring us together again, or push us farther apart. While it took many months for us to get closer and rally around Dad again as he slowly recovered, years later our family would again be decimated. After weeks of rest, he ended up being okay, but life for him and our family would be very rocky for the next year.

It was a true test for us, and yet we came together as a family, which should be what most families do. A little more than 16 months after Dad's seizure attack, he once again would go through another traumatic event in his life. He would receive news from a neurologist in Knoxville, Tennessee, that he never would have imagined hearing. He had developed Parkinson's Disease. Dad had been suffering from chronic fatigue for a few years, and he slowly developed a tremor in his right hand. That's what led to him seeking the advice of a neurologist. Parkinson's wasn't very familiar at all to me, nor anyone in our family. I had no clue what signs or symptoms came along with this disease, or if it was even life threatening. I just knew that when Mom called to tell me about it, I was very upset. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? Anytime you hear of someone being diagnosed with any illness, you always assume that it's something...