California Man: Parkinson's, right?Jamie Randall: Oh, no. No.California Man: No, your wife.Jamie Randall: Girlfriend. Stage One.California Man: Good days and bad days, huh?Jamie Randall: Mostly good days. You?California Man: Wife. Since '73. Stage Four.Jamie Randall: You got any advice?California Man: You don't need my advice.Jamie Randall: Come on. I'm very trainable.California Man: My advice is to go upstairs, pack your bags, and leave a nice note. Find yourself a healthy woman. I love my wife. I do. But I wouldn't do it over again. The thing nobody tells you, this disease will steal everything you love in her. Her body, her smile, her mind. Sooner or later, she'll lose motor control. Eventually, she won't even be able to dress herself. Then, the fun really begins. Cleaning up her shit. Frozen face. Dementia. It's not a disease, it's a Russian novel.
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