The sun would soon begin its relentless sneak attack; first peeking through and then above the trees to the east. This giant in our solar system would quickly demand the morning sky morph from a colorless pallet to an ever-changing exhibition of pale and bright reds, yellows, oranges, and blues.
The morning was still young. I had gotten up at 3:30 a.m. to take the first of six Stalevo/Requip combinations. I prayed they would “kick in” to help me get dressed. I hoped they would get me out of the house in less than the hour I allocated to accomplish these once small, easy chores.
I experienced the same exhilaration I felt when my dad would wake me from a restless sleep at my grandfather’s farm in Georgia. It was opening morning of hunting season.
I live with my wife and four children on a small 40-acre farm in Northwest Florida. We moved here in 1994 after Parkinson’s had began showing its ugly head three years earlier. I was unable to get a diagnosis and didn’t know if my condition was life-threatening.
With my young family at my side, I went through a gamut of tests and diagnostic evaluations at the Mayo Clinic. I participated in MRI and nerve conduction tests, orthopedic evaluations, physical therapy, and even hypnosis.
No one could give me a definitive answer why I had developed a slight tremor in my right hand. From the tremor I began cupping my hand and eventually quit swinging my right arm when I walked. Later, I developed a noticeable limp and a progression to the left side. I was officially diagnosed at Shands Clinic in 1997.
Today my diagnosis is moderate to severe with terrible freezing incidents, poor gait, and extremely poor balance. I have to use an electric wheel chair at work and at home. However, I’m still fortunate to have successful "on" periods. During these times, I may even appear to walk normally for a brief, ever so exhilarating interval. It’s like having a miracle each and every day of my life.
Walking normally is what I hope to do on these early morning outings. My destination is one of the three shooting houses I built, with the help of friends. Most mornings, one of these friends will plan to hunt with me. This is the first of our 10 Commandments for my hunting activities. They are:
- Never hunt alone.
- Always wear a hunter orange vest and hat when going to and from the shooting house.
- Never climb in or out of the shooting house with a loaded gun.
- Always double check that your rifle and bullets match.
- Never take a questionable shot at a target in low light.
- Always take your cell phone.
- Share what you harvest.
- Don’t check things out with your rifle scope. Use binoculars.
- Always be sure of your background before squeezing the trigger.
- Thank God and my friends for still allowing me to be able to get into the forest and marvel at God’s handiwork.
It takes a lot of time and effort for me to hunt. Accommodations I have made so I can enjoy hunting season include but are not limited to:
- On mornings when I just can’t walk (there are many) I sometimes ride my wheel chair down to the shooting house and cover it with a piece of camo burlap before crawling to the stand.
- I discovered several years ago that I can still ride a bicycle even if I can’t walk. Balance on the bike, doesn’t appear to be nearly the problem it is with walking or standing.
- We have a 4-wheeler I use like a powerful wheelchair.
- On afternoon hunts, I have a family member or friend drop me off at one of the stands a little earlier than I would go if I were walking.
- We have built gun rests into all the shooting houses.
- Friends who help me get to hunt on our property.
Helping me may include assistance with getting me dressed, giving me a hand getting into the shooting house, facilitating me in getting the product of a successful hunt back to the house, and assisting me as I prepare the meat for freezing.
Tolerance and help provided by my family and friends have to be the most important ingredients that allow me to hunt—and fish. But fishing’s another story.
