Four and a half years ago I lost my balance and lost control of my motorcycle.  I broke my left ankle and collar bone.  While on the mend, my doctor told me to see a neurologist just to get their perspective on my balance issue.  After a series of simple exercises, she proclaimed that I had Parkinson's... at age 50.  I couldn't process this conclusion; I had an occasional tremor here and there, and wasn't as athletic as I once was, but Parkinson's? Really?  Today I am on a host of medications, tremor in my right hand, progressively get more rigid as the day progresses, and have dyskinesias and a peculiar gait.  But those are only the physical signs of this insidious disease.  There also are the unseen complications; depression, anxiety, insomnia and panic attacks just to mention a few.  This disease is a thief, attempting to rob you of your happiness by challenging you with each and every daily activity. But I am fighting back.  Through my amazing wife and family, exercise and unyielding determination not to give up.  I am walking to find a cure.  I am walking for hope.  Thank you for your support in this fight.  Michael