A prayer for those with Parkinson’s

St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague is about as breathtaking a sacred space as one can imagine.

And it occupies a special place in my heart.

Prague, in the Czech Republic, and St. Petersburg, Russia, are — in my opinion — two of the most beautiful cities of Europe. And it’s Prague’s cathedral that touches me most profoundly. Many former houses of worship in St. Petersburg are now museums. Not so, Prague’s cathedral.

I have a personal connection with St. Vitus. It was there, in the nave of the cathedral in 2011, that I knelt in prayer. Mine was a petition for healing.

The cathedral has quite a history. Emperor Charles IV laid its foundation stone in 1344 but the cathedral wasn’t consecrated until 1929 — almost 600 years later. Its huge south window, which overwhelms the senses as one enters the nave, cannot be ignored. It depicts the Last Judgment.

Carved on a wooden door near that window is a relief of Sicilian martyr and Bohemian patron saint, St. Vitus, being tortured in a cauldron of boiling oil.

More about that in a moment.

St. Vitus Cathedral features gothic architecture and is the seat of the archbishop. It contains the tombs of Czech kings.

My wife, Hedy, and I visited Prague six years after I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. It was a serendipitous occurrence, not a pilgrimage.

Parkinson’s is a progressive neurological disorder with no known cure. It causes nerve cells to die or become impaired, and patients exhibit such symptoms as tremors or shaking, slowness of movement, rigidity or stiffness, loss of facial mobility, and balance difficulties. Other signs include a shuffling gait, cognitive problems and muffled speech.

Twenty years ago, at the age of 74, my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. He lived another 10 years and died at 84. But it was tough sledding for him. My best pal from high school and college died last year after battling Parkinson’s for six years.

I remember, long before my diagnosis, my mom telling me about St. Vitus. When she was a girl, in the early 1930s, her grandmother — my great grandmother — was afflicted with Parkinson’s.

Grandma was in her late 50s. She would have the disease for the remainder of her years but it would not take her life. I was taken to her as an infant but she declined to hold me because of her shakes.

Like many Parkinson’s patients, she died of something else. Grandma succumbed to cancer; Dad to pneumonia.

And both did the St. Vitus dance.

“That’s a term used commonly years ago to describe Parkinson’s shakes and tremors,” Mom told me. “Everyone in our family said Grandma did the St. Vitus dance.”

Now I do it.

Technically, the St. Vitus dance describes Sydenham’s chorea, a childhood movement disorder characterized by rapid, irregular, aimless and involuntary movements of the muscles of the limbs, face and trunk. The dance has also come to represent Parkinson’s, dyskinesia, Tourette’s syndrome, epilepsy and other nervous system disorders.

In A.D. 303, Roman emperor Diocletian subjected St. Vitus, because of his Christian faith, to a variety of tortures including being placed in a cauldron filled with molten lead. As the story goes, he writhed and twitched spasmodically but did not die.

The involuntary twitching became known as the St. Vitus dance.

That day five years ago when I knelt in St. Vitus Cathedral, I asked God for healing — knowing full well that unlike numerous other maladies, no one is healed of Parkinson’s.

But, I believe its advance can be slowed.

I prayed something like: “Lord, I know everything is possible with you. You created the cosmos out of nothing. I am dust in the wind. But you love me, and this morning at St. Vitus Cathedral — like the lady of the Scriptures with the issue of blood — I seek your healing in whatever fashion that might take. I accept your touch with the deepest gratitude.”

I’ve had an incurable illness for 11 years, but it won’t last forever.

Of that I’m absolutely certain!

JIM CARNETT lives in Costa Mesa. His column runs Tuesdays.