Man: Parkinson's, right?
Jamie: Oh, no. No.
Man: No, your wife.
Jamie: Girlfriend. Stage One.
Man: Good days and bad days, huh?
Jamie: Mostly good days. You?
Man: Wife. Since '73. Stage Four.
Jamie: You got any advice?
Man: You don't need my advice.
Jamie: Come on. I'm very trainable.
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. Look, I'm sorry. I'm out of line. Hang in there.
Maggie: Did you realize there are other people with Parkinson's? How remarkable! Amazing people. People doing things. Like this one woman runs marathons, and another one scuba dives. And they're pissed off and they're tired of being marginalized. Oh, my God, they are so cool! I feel good. I feel really good. I feel better than I have felt in a long time, and you brought me here. I mean, okay, whatever, it was the wrong convention, sure, but...Jamie, I... Jamie. I have been such a bitch to you.
Jamie: Oh, no.
Maggie: And you didn't even run away. How is that possible? It's like, this is...Like, the first time in my life that I've ever not felt alone. That someone is there for me. Do you know what that means? Oh, my God. I love you. I do. I love you. I love you, I love you. I really love you.