I didn’t have a name for my shakes until I was officially diagnosed in my 20s. Essential Tremor (ET) sounded like something my body needed. The word “essential” can throw you! ET is a neurological disorder that causes involuntary shaking in certain body parts, most often the hands. The cause hasn’t been determined, but it may be hereditary or involving an imbalance of neurotransmitters in the brain.
I’ve had shaky hands since I was a child. The tremors in my hands are one of the first things a stranger will notice about me. I often have to preface any Reels I make for social media by stating I have hand tremors that are very pronounced. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun to develop tremors in my lower legs that make wearing heels impossible unless I can be sitting rather than standing.
My shakes are made worse by stress and caffeine. Being a mom, a wearer of many hats at a boutique realty company, the primary family member to take care of the home, running my own business, you can imagine that stress is difficult for me to manage.
I was nine years old when I was made aware that my hands shook. And by made aware, I mean I was mocked by classmates as I stood in front of the classroom to present a math problem. As an Army brat, I was the new kid in the class, and I was struggling to adjust from being in a talented-and-gifted classroom at my previous elementary school to a much smaller school that lacked the challenging education I needed. The fact that my hands began to shake at this time added to the bullying that had begun in earnest.
As I progressed in school, the tremors in my hands made participating in certain activities extremely difficult if not nearly impossible. I played the clarinet, and testing days were a nightmare. Any score at a faster tempo resulted in a failing score as I couldn’t control my hands in order to keep up and hit the correct notes. I never mastered playing scales and left the testing room in tears constantly because my shakes wouldn’t allow me to play the pieces I had memorized.
The largest impact ET had on my early life is the killing of a dream. I always wanted to be either 1) President, or 2) a doctor in either women’s health or sports medicine. I very much remember dissecting a cat in AP Biology and my tremors making me unable to hold the scalpel and perform the dissection. My teacher gently instructed me to hand over responsibility to my lab partner; that one moment crushed my dream. I couldn’t be a doctor and perform surgery if my hands shook.
Most of my peers assumed I was extremely nervous; and, while nerves played a small part, they were not the reason for my shakes. It wouldn’t be until 2011, at the age of 25, that I would be professionally diagnosed by a neurologist as having ET.
After I had my first son, I was exclusively pumping. The first time I spilled a bottle of precious ounces of breast milk because of my tremors, I curled up on the floor and sobbed. Any mother or parent who has fed their baby knows how breast milk is akin to liquid gold and to spill it, to see it wasted, while in the throes of undiagnosed postpartum depression, well, the shakes I couldn’t control added fire to my poor mental state.
Now, with my sons being 11 and 7, my tremors are less impactful on motherhood. They know why I shake and why I may ask for help when seasoning a meal, or cutting a piece of paper, or trying to turn the pages of a book. And when a friend points out my trembling hands, they know how to explain the why behind those shakes.
ET can be hereditary, though neither of my parents have it. And since I began showing symptoms at a young age, I pay special attention to my children. Are their hands quivering? Are they being teased? Is writing difficult if not in cursive? We talk about these things and keep an open dialogue. I want them to have the confidence to know Mom will be there to help them and find answers to their questions if they suspect they may have ET.
I served in the Army for 9.5 years. Having hand tremors made a massive impact on how effective of a soldier I could be. Try presenting a BUB (Battle Update Briefing) to a two-star general and having him point out to the entire room that the LT (lieutenant) is shaking from nerves. Or try qualifying on a M9 (pistol) which requires both hands to be in a steady grip or on a M4 (the smaller version of a M16 semi automatic rifle) while laying in a prone position and having to hit a target at 300 meters. It becomes impossible. And to fail in front of your brigade? Humiliating. I also failed the Combat Lifesaver Course; part of that course requires a soldier to learn to give an IV. No one wanted to partner with me (not that I blame them), and I was paired with the instructor who quickly learned upon my first attempt at sticking him that I should never be counted on to administer life saving medicine and fluids.
I now work in real estate as a civilian, and I am heavily involved in the brokerage’s social media. I begin any Reel by stating that I have tremors in my hands, that I’m not nervous. I apologize if a video is shaky and not the best quality. If I meet a new buyer or seller, I explain that my hands noticeably shake because of a movement disorder, and to please not judge.
It’s everyday living that has its challenges. I struggle with: shaving my legs, cutting a straight line, tying shoes, holding a cup of liquid with one hand, writing unless it’s cursive, measuring, unlocking a door, putting on mascara, applying lipstick, turning the page of a book, holding a book for that matter, etc.
On hard days, I’m carried through by antidepressants and a good book.
I wish people didn’t assume something about me. I am not nervous (fear of public speaking is nonexistent). I am not going to faint. I am not a drug addict nor an alcoholic. I have a movement disorder that makes very simple, everyday tasks like writing a to-do list nearly impossible.
In truth, I’ve learned to live with my tremors. My shakes do not cause me physical pain, and I’ve learned to adapt or ask for help. If anything, shaky hands are definitely a conversation starter!
