| Living With Huntington Disease |
| Hi ! My name is Beatrice Langille. Formerly, it was Beatrice Gray when my first husband Norman was alive. This web site is mainly about my life with Norman and how I coped with the fact that he had Huntington disease and what I am doing now to further the fight against this cruel and disheartening disease. |
 |
| My first introduction to huntingtons was when I met my husband's father who at that time was diagnosed as suffering from shellshock. As time passed, his movements and violent outbursts worsened. He and I got along very well. The first time I met him, he asked me to fix his pants. Isaid I could and I did. He never forgot that.. About five years later he was diagnosed with parkinson disease at Sunnybrook hospital in Toronto. They did surgery on the brain which was supposed to control the opposite side of the body. He would not return for the second surgery. The surgery was a miserable failure anyway. In the late sixties, he had a stroke and spent his last year in Camp Hill Hospital being fed by a tube. He didn't like this and would frequently pull it out. They had to tie his hands to the bed rails. In 1970, he passed away and for the first time the family knew the truth - his death certificate stated that he died of Huntington's. |
| His daughter-in-law decided to get the medical records from Dr KV Gass and Camp Hill Hospital. She suspected that her ex-husband had the same disease as his father. I also began to question my husband's mood swings. I got our family doctor to make an appointment to see if he had the same thing. The tests at that time consisted of a few questions and to sit on the examining table while the doctor stepped out of the room and shut the light off. He told my husband that when the light came on to jump off the table. He did , kept his balance and was declared free of huntingtons. The doctor came out and told me to go home and stop looking for trouble and leave this poor man alone. So, I did. |
| I stopped trying to get other people to believe that he had huntingtons. As time went on the mood swings became worse and he developed what was called a " limp ". Then came the violence and although he never hit me or the children, he broke his " favorite " window many times. I used to tell him to hit me and then tell him that it would be his end. Dr Gass told my sister-in-law that alcohol would bring it on faster and in truth, they were both more violent when they drank. There was times when if he planned to wash his car and it rained, it would be my fault. I guess I had great powers because I caused everthing to happen but the most frustrating thing would be when I was so upset during an arguement and suddenly he would change and be happy as if nothing had happened at all. It was gone and forgotten. |