I'm not the one battling the disease. My father is.....for the past 15 years. He was diagnosed at the age of 41. I was 13, so I've seen him go from a perfectly functioning human to one who can barely lift a glass. Throughout this he has been my superhero, my inspiration. I have an uncaring specialist and a difficulty accessing the medication. My father is also manic depressive and there are days when the struggle is too much for me to bear and the tears fall and my patience runs thin. Despite all this, my father with his stubborn self refuses to give up or give in. That's my message.......never give up. Keep fighting.