``It's OK,'' Dorma whispered. ``Come on.''

Neil squeezed his blind eyes shut as his wife helped him scoot just a few inches from the portable toilet to his bed. Dorma pushed hard on his legs, maneuvered them onto the bed and then tucked him in.

For a few minutes, Neil laid perfectly still.

Then, he cupped his quivering right hand with his left.

And then, he cried.

Neil is 88. Dorma, the love of his life -- and his full-time caretaker for three years -- is 89.

Black-and-white photographs in ornate, gold frames adorn the wall above Neil's bed. They capture the couple in their earlier, more exuberant years -- before Parkinson's disease made Neil a prisoner in his own body.

On May 8 the couple will celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary. That's what Dorma hopes and that's why she refuses to leave her husband's side, despite his debilitating condition.

``When you take your wedding vows, you say `Til death us do part,' '' Dorma said with a bright smile and sparkle in her eyes.

Her husband is one of 1.5 million Americans with Parkinson's, a disorder of the central nervous system.

The disease cripples by destroying nerve cells within the basal ganglia, the part of the brain that coordinates and controls body movement.

The symptoms -- which usually begin as a slight tremor of one hand, arm or leg -- result from a deficiency of a chemical in the brain called dopamine. This chemical regulates the flow of motor messages that control voluntary movements such as walking and talking.

Untreated, the disease progresses over 10 to 15 years to severe weakness and incapacity. People do not die from Parkinson's, but they can die from complications resulting from this incapacity, such as pneumonia.

About one-third of patients eventually show signs of dementia.

Neil can recall names and dates from years ago that Dorma cannot. But often, his mind is clouded.

Sometimes, he believes he's a millionaire; other times, he thinks there's a huge hole in their front yard.

``Sometimes (his mind) is as clear as a bell,'' Dorma said. ``Other times it's just out there.''

Neil first showed symptoms of Parkinson's in the 1940s.

``I could tell it was Neil from blocks away by his walk,'' said Dorma, a teacher for 40 years with the Cerro Gordo School District. ``He dragged his right foot.''

A doctor diagnosed Neil with Parkinson's in the early 1950s. Neil then started taking Artane, a drug that helps relieve his tremor. He has taken it every day since. Over the years, Neil refused to take other medications or try surgery that might have further relieved his symptoms.

He's been stubborn, Dorma said.

About 10 years ago, Parkinson's robbed Neil of his eyesight. Today, he cannot walk, eat or bathe by himself.

``He just got worse and worse and slower and slower,'' Dorma said.

Neil mostly sleeps, but twice a day, at 9 a.m. and 3 p.m., Dorma feeds him -- he still loves pancakes and sausage. And every night he listens to the local news and ``Wheel of Fortune.''

Twice a week, a nurse from Decatur Memorial Hospital Home Care drives to their Cerro Gordo home to shave and bathe him.

Neil always stays indoors, except for a trip to sit on the porch every few months.

His last trek outside was on Dec. 17. When groceries are low, Dorma waits until ``The Price is Right'' comes on television before heading to the store. That's when Neil falls back asleep each morning. Since he can't get out of bed himself, Dorma said she doesn't worry about leaving him alone.

``I used to be able to get him in the car myself, but it got to a point where I couldn't do it anymore,'' Dorma said. ``If I were stronger I would do these things.

But he understands.''

Dorma reminisced about Neil's youthful years working as a credit supervisor at Illinois (then Illinois-Iowa) Power Co.

Neil interrupted.

His words jumbled together, sounding like a tape being played back much too slowly.

``Maybe I recalled something wrong,'' Dorma said.

She walked over to the bed, leaned over her husband and held her ear close to his lips. He mumbled some more.

Dorma shook her head. The sparkle left her eyes.

``Sometimes I have him spell the words,'' she said. ``Sometimes I just have to walk away. I do the best I can.''

When Neil and Dorma met on a blind date in 1928 -- he was a senior in high school -- Neil wooed his wife-to-be off her feet.

``I thought he was pretty great,'' Dorma said. ``I guess he liked me, too.''

As Dorma begins to talk about the disease itself, Neil interrupts again. This time, his words are clearer.

``It's in my brain,'' he said, placing his tremoring hand on his head.

``Yes, Neil, it is,'' Dorma replied.

The couple doesn't talk about death, but Dorma knows she can't take care of her husband forever. She's learned the names of all the area nursing homes but has not visited any.

``I just plan on living longer than Neil,'' said Dorma, her eyes growing dim as she wondered who would take care of her husband if she died first. ``As long as I can take care of him, I'll keep him at home.

``He's very demanding,'' she added. ``I pray for patience and strength. You really have to take life as it comes.''

SIDEBAR: Science makes some strides

Patients diagnosed with Parkinson's disease used to die within 15 years. But in recent years, new drugs have proven to minimize symptoms and increase life expectancy.

The first breakthrough was Levodopa -- a drug that replaces dopamine, a brain chemical that's
depleted in Parkinson's patients.

Earlier this decade, doctors began prescribing Sinemet and later its slow-release form, Sinemet CR. Both help relieve the symptoms of Parkinson's by replacing dopamine, but like Levodopa, patients build a tolerance.

``Ideally, we try to avoid treatment with Sinemet until the latest possible time,'' said Dr. Wayne
Kelly, a Decatur neurologist.

For patients in the early stages of the disease, Kelly usually prescribes Eldepryl, an even newer drug, which slows the loss of dopamine.

If symptoms must be treated, Kelly usually prescribes Parlodel or Permax, which imitate the action of dopamine. When these drugs become ineffective, Kelly adds Sinemet at low doses The future of Parkinson's treatment is bright, Kelly said. ``They're making medications much more specific with fewer side effects. They're learning more about the underlying potential causes of Parkinson's.''

Because the benefits of drugs wear off in about a decade, researchers are also pursuing fetal cell implants and other surgeries.

Some are studying the effects of transplanting adrenal glands into the brain, which stimulate dopamine production; others are implanting brain tissue from pigs.

Of the latter, Kelly said, ``It may have benefit, but we have to wait for more research, more time. I would not send anyone for a procedure like that now.''

In recent months, surgeons also began re-examining pallidotomy, a brain surgery developed in the 1950s by two neurosurgeons in Sweden. It was abandoned in the 1960s partly because of a high incidence of complications but mostly because of the appearance of Levodopa on the market.

The operation destroys tiny areas of the brain that control movement and often stops involuntary jerking motions and tremors. Some patients improve dramatically, while others develop side effects. No long-term, follow-up study has been done.

Kelly is not a fan of this surgery either and said doctors should try it only on end-stage Parkinson's patients who no longer respond to drugs.

``At this point in time, I look upon it as a fad,'' Kelly said. ``Not until a period of time comes where they do it with a significant number of people will we really know if it provides benefit.''

SIDEBAR: Drug recommendations change

Artane, which Neil Wood has used for decades, seldom is prescribed today.

When a doctor diagnosed Neil Wood with Parkinson's disease in the early 1950s, he prescribed Artane, one of the top drugs of the time.

Artane can relieve rigidity, tremor and drooling. But the drug can also cause unpleasant side effects: a dry mouth, blurred vision, constipation and mental changes.

Since the development of Levodopa and Sinemet -- newer drugs with fewer side effects -- the use of Artane has become almost nonexistent.

``Artane is a very ancient drug,'' said Dr. Bala Manyam, director of Southern Illinois University's Parkison's Disease and Movement Disorders Clinic in Springfield.

Manyam said Artane is used today only in rare cases and prescribed only to patients in the early stages of the disease or who have severe spasms.

``Artane in older persons can cause confusion,'' he said. ``In general, Artane should be stopped.''

Dr. Wayne Kelly, a Decatur neurologist, agrees.

``The use of Artane can easily make the elderly confused,'' said Kelly, a Decatur neurologist.

Wood has taken Artane for more than 40 years. He refused to take Levodopa, said Dorma Wood, Neil's wife, but did try Sinemet for one week. He stopped taking the drug because his tremors worsened.

``He was so frustrated,'' she said. ``He didn't know whether he was coming or going.''

Wood's physician, Dr. William Shackelford, would not return repeated telephone calls.

Kelly said any Parkinson's treatment boils down to the patient.

``I'll tell people what I feel is in their best interest, but ultimately, every individual is responsible for
their own, as long as they're competent,'' he said. ``If a person comes in and they're adamant about staying on their medication and I tell them the consequences of that, then they make their decisions. If they choose to remain on them, it's their choice.''