It has been eight months since I began the surgical path that I hoped would mark miraculous recovery from symptoms of Parkinson’s disease.

I elected to have deep brain stimulation therapy, which involved some drilling into my skull and incisions to implant a device in my chest and run wires to my brain.

I began with the left brain to manipulate my right side. That first drill was Aug. 22, 2018. Then I waited four weeks to get programmed for the upper half of my right side.

I felt like this was new innovation, but this surgery was offered to my mom nearly 20 years earlier. She declined and worked with a chiropractor and medications to help with her symptoms.

By the time she was in her late 50s, Mom was getting around with the assistance of a power chair. I also watched as her tremors worsened and watched her maneuver throughout the pain.

Mom fought against it at all turns.

When it got so bad she couldn’t drink a cup of coffee or eat a meal without spilling it, she simply opted for a bib. Friends got into it with her also. I remember her beautician, Betty Lawson, brought her a bib that had a pocket to catch things that fell.

My symptoms seemed to manifest in some ways different from Mom’s. For instance, it had an impact on my speech, which made it difficult to conduct interviews, and on my ability to write, which has been such an integral part of my life since I was 31.

I am certain that my training (thanks to Mrs. Wynant in Pendleton High School) in shorthand helped. The flow of the symbols was much easier to deal with than the laborious task of cursive writing or even printing. It was less painful, too.

It was difficult to transcribe those notes, turning them into a story on the computer because my hands were bouncing all over the keyboard and my voice wasn’t consistently strong or steady enough to operate a “Dragon Naturally Speaking” program.

I went into the surgery thinking it would be great if the tremors would stop. Anything else was just gravy.

After four weeks, I sat with my cousin, Brenda, and the neurologist/programmer and watched in amazement as the tremors left my right hand.

I had mild expectations such as less wobbling of my head, or that my speech might become more consistent and understandable for those who were straining to hear me. Maybe I would regain some composure, so I wouldn’t have to rely on a cane or walker so much.

I did get help with the bobble head syndrome. That is almost unnoticeable now.

Just before I went in for my second surgery on April 17, I was all excited. I couldn’t wait to see what this would do.

But I have to wait another few weeks to be programmed on the right side of the brain, to see what it will do for my left side.

I was in much more pain with this surgery than the first.

I tried to avoid taking any narcotic for the pain but gave in after about seven or eight hours.

When I got home the next day, I was feeling very, very tired.

For the next several days, I was in and out of sleep with the effects of the pain medication.

By the fifth day, I was feeling a bit more normal.

As of writing this column, I had a couple of days before going back to the surgeon to have the staples and pins pulled from my chest and my skull. I will be so happy to have that done, as they are beginning to itch quite a bit.

I don’t really have any memory of the drilling that required me to be under a local anesthetic and somewhat awake to respond to certain commands. I do have vivid recollection of that with the first surgery.

Now, the most difficult part is the wait for programming.

I feel like I’m talking about a robot, but my movements feel anything but robotic.

It felt so natural after the first programming session, although I still find myself holding my right hand out to assure myself that the tremors have not come back.

Even without any programming, several people have commented that my voice sounds stronger and I don’t have to repeat myself as often as before.

So, now I will watch and wait and pray for the best outcome.