The Easy Part is Over

I won a ping pong tournament last weekend. Sort of. If you grade on a curve.

Parkinson’s Resources of Oregon (PRO) offers a ping pong program three days a week. I usually show up on Mondays, and generally get my ass kicked.

I decided it might make sense to learn how to play the game, so I signed up for group lessons at Portland Table Tennis Club.

My first lesson was on a Wednesday. I learned the proper way to hold a paddle (short version: not the way I’d been holding it), a forehand stroke, and a backhand stroke.

On Friday, I went back to Portland Table Tennis Club and practiced what I’d learned. On Saturday, PRO held a ping pong tournament, and I entered.

The tournament had three divisions, grouped by ability. The best players played each other on Table 3.

Contestants who were not quite as good, but were still reasonably competent, were at Table 2.

I was assigned to Table 1. You can figure out why.

I didn’t tell anyone about my single lesson because, frankly, I didn’t think it was going to make much difference.

To my shock, I won all four of my matches, and was declared the Champion of Table 1.

Had I suddenly become a good player? No. But on that particular Saturday, I performed better than the other denizens of the bottom rung.

I felt pretty cocky until the following Monday, when my ass was repeatedly kicked at my regular PRO ping pong session. Three matches produced three losses. Two of them weren’t close.

A single lesson and a “beginner table” championship were deceptively easy. It turns out initial improvement is rapid when you start at zero. Achieving competence will be a long slog with occasional setbacks.

The easy part is over.

Every victory is temporary, every defeat permanent.” – Thomas Jefferson

My battle with Parkinson’s also had an “easy part.” It came just after my diagnosis.

For more than a year, I’d been dealing with a visible tremor, problems with hand dexterity, bradykinesia (slow movement) and back pain. I couldn’t type with my right hand. Sometimes I couldn’t stand up straight. I didn’t know why this was happening or what to do about it.

In May of 2023, a neurologist told me I had Parkinson’s. My troubles finally had a name, and there were ways to address the situation.

I started a regimen of carbidopa/levodopa and regular exercise. Improvement was rapid.

Over the next few months, most of the bradykinesia and back pain went away. The tremor became much less noticeable. My right hand still isn’t perfect, but I can type when voice dictation isn’t available. Symptoms were stable for more than a year.

That was the easy part.

Over the last week or so, the tremor has started to become more noticeable. The Apple Watch app I use to track it confirms what I’m feeling: the daily average duration of the tremor has been inching up a bit every day, from a consistent average of 22 minutes to 34 minutes a day (note: I wear the watch during waking hours only.)

34 minutes a day isn’t a lot, but it represents an increase of 50% in about a week. I have no idea if it will stay at 34 minutes, go back down, or continue to inch up. I don’t know what else is coming… or when.

The easy part is over.

The war continues.

Today’s schedule has a Rock Steady Boxing session in the morning, and a ping-pong lesson in the afternoon. Tomorrow is a Tai Chi day. Señor Parky doesn’t take a day off; neither will I.

I intend to have a few more victories, temporary though they may be, before the war is over. I’m reconciled to the fact that it will be a long, slow slog, and Señor Parky may ultimately win.

But I intend to make him work for it.

BONUS FOR THOSE WHO READ TO THE BOTTOM

In his prime, Randy “Macho Man” Savage was one of the best interviews in professional wrestling, in spite of (or because of) the fact that he often made absolutely no sense.

Someone decided to take one of Mr. Savage’s legendary promos and run it backwards. I think he and Mean Gene Okerland sound even better this way. Let me know if you agree.

In spite of the title, the Rolling Stones are not in this video. It’s Keith Richards on guitar, Mick Fleetwood on drums, and the great Jerry Lee Lewis on pumping piano. Listen as they pummel Chuck Berry’s “Little Queenie” into submission.