This compulsive sharing of the X-ray is not really about my arm, at all. It’s about Parkinson’s. As much I’d like to, it’s not possible to sum up Parkinson’s in a picture or two. I can’t produce an X-ray. I can’t show you the damage it’s done. I have no photographic evidence of cell death or misfiring neurons. This personal quest to show people what’s going on inside of me reveals a desire I had no previous way to satisfy.
