Post by Greenedog on Oct 26, 2008 8:49:33 GMT -5
Disease doesn't stop big game hunter
Despite having Parkinson's, he manages to get off shots to bring home trophies
By JOEL C. THOMPSON
Staff writer - Connecticut Post
When Dr. Donald Butler was afflicted with Parkinson's disease six years ago, he faced a real choice: Fold his tent and stay home in Easton or continue a life of adventure.
Aside from challenging work as a radiologist at Bridgeport Hospital, Butler liked to hunt big game in Alaska, enjoyed mountaineering and ice climbing, as well as other high-risk pursuits that the average person would never contemplate.
When the tremors, hesitations, anxiety and other aspects of Parkinson's began to pose serious problems for Butler in 2004, he still wanted to go on a big-game safari in Africa but wondered if he were up to the task.
But he decided to book a trip to Tanzania after his wife, Jane, urged him to go. "I do not want you to name me as the reason you never hunted Africa. Perhaps you should go while you can," she recalled telling him, referring to the progressive debilitation that most Parkinson's patients suffer.
"I've had to accept my limitations, but I decided to do what I wanted and invent ways of doing it," said Butler, 54. "I also have a fantastic wife to keep me going."
Realizing he could be in mortal danger facing a Cape buffalo, lion or leopard on the hunt if his hands shook and he were unable to shoot accurately, Butler prepared by practicing shooting more quickly and from different positions.
"Parkinson's disease, involving a resting tremor, obviously is not the ideal recipe for success at big-game hunting," he said. "Necessary hunting skills foiled by this disease include the ability to hold a weapon steady regardless of position."
He was well aware that Niki Atcheson, an experienced hunter and guide, had been gored and nearly killed while hunting in Africa by a Cape buffalo bull she had wounded previously.
As fate would have it, Butler, while on the safari, faced great danger himself when he and his party were charged by a herd of a dozen Cape buffalo.
"At my first shot, the complete herd ran directly at us. I was instructed to keep shooting at my bull, while the professional hunter shot in front of the herd," Butler recalled.
"After I fired two more shots, my bull veered off and dropped. The remainder of the herd mercifully turned away as well."
The head of the bull was preserved and mounted on the wall of a room in his house that contains other trophies from his safari -- the heads of another Cape buffalo, an eland and a hartebeest. Another trophy is a male lion that Butler shot on a dry riverbed.
He laments he was unable to shoot a leopard after it was drawn to some meat put in a tree as bait.
"I had extreme trouble staying still enough to make the shot. I took the shot, but completely missed," he said. "The leopard wiped his chin and left without injury."
In the course of events, Butler learned other hunters afflicted with Parkinson's have also been able to participate in a big- game hunt with the help of people who organize the expeditions.
Though his hunting trip went well, Butler faced even greater challenges when he returned to his radiology work at the hospital.
"Some radiologists spend their time reading films," he said. "I did that, too, but I also used catheters to diagnose abnormalities and correct problems in the arteries and major organs including the brain and the liver. I used the catheters on everything except the heart, which is the work of a cardiologist."
He said he realized his work with patients was at an end because of tremors from his disease.
"Your hands can't be shaking then you are putting a catheter into someone's brain. You need good eye-hand coordination," he said.
Bridgeport Hospital then made him head of its Radiology Department, allowing him to instruct and guide other physicians in diagnostic and corrective techniques. But he experienced anxious moments and days of not feeling well enough to work that caused him to retire in 2005.
The burden of being on call three or four nights a week, separating him from his family, was lifted, but Butler was at home with much less to do and challenged by limitations from his disease.
Even so, he enjoyed spending more time for a year with his son, Gordon, then a senior in high school before he went off to Union College in 2007. His son, now a sophomore, competes in national Olympic-style shooting competitions.
The Butlers are also the parents of a daughter, Michelle, a holistic health counselor and certified yoga teacher who lives in Los Angeles.
She studied at the Institute of Integrated Nutrition in New York City.
With big game still gripping his imagination, Butler also took time to hunt American buffalo at a private reserve in western Nebraska.
Ed Csenge, of Keene, N.H., who has also hunted in Africa, joined Butler on the Nebraska adventure. They became acquainted while their sons competed in a shooting event at West Point.
Csenge said it can be hard for Butler to shoot when his hands shake but he can manage to get off a shot quickly during a still moment and hit his target.
"It is really unfortunate for Don, being a successful doctor, to be afflicted with that disease, young as he is," Csenge said. "We have to get together and go an another hunting adventure, something he can manage and enjoy."
The head of the bison that Butler shot in Nebraska was added to other trophies in his home from past hunts, such as a brown bear he shot in the Kodiak Islands off Alaska, a white mountain goat with black horns from Brewer Creek in British Columbia, and the head of a Dall sheep with huge curled horns taken in Alaska's Wrangell Mountains.
His latest adventure was a caribou hunt with his son at the end of August on the shores of Lac de Gras in the Northwest Territory, a nearly disastrous experience.
"While we were crossing the 75-mile wide lake to get to the hunting area, our boat was swamped by huge waves," Butler said. "We ended up marooned on an island. My son suffered from hypothermia before a helicopter rescued us."
Nonetheless, he and his son later had a successful hunting experience and shot two caribou each.
"I began hunting pheasant with my father while I was in high school in Pennsylvania. I was inspired by reading my grandfather's Field and Stream magazine," Butler said.
"I was introduced to big game hunting by Jane's father. He was into deer hunting, which is huge in Pennsylvania."
Butler said he realizes animal-rights advocates and others think that hunting is brutal and cruel. However, they should consider animals die with a single shot from a skilled hunter, while the animals might otherwise be ripped apart, suffer greatly and die during an attack by predators, he said.
He added deer and other species, for lack of hunting, can over populate an area and create an imbalance in the environment.
Aside from hunting, Butler enjoys riding a motorcycle around the northwest area of the state, fishing for wide-mouth bass in New Hampshire, woodworking and bonsai.
"Don doesn't accomplish as much as he did before. He has to rest and take naps," his wife said. "But he doesn't let the disease defeat him. He keeps going."
"Everyone says you need two careers in a lifetime," Butler said.
"We'll see what that will be for me. I've never been satisfied. I always push to do more."
Despite having Parkinson's disease, Dr. Donald Butler, of Easton, has successfully hunted: African lion Alaskan brown bear American buffalo Cape buffalo Eland Hartebeest British Columbia white mountain goat Alaskan Dall sheep Two caribou
Despite having Parkinson's, he manages to get off shots to bring home trophies
By JOEL C. THOMPSON
Staff writer - Connecticut Post
When Dr. Donald Butler was afflicted with Parkinson's disease six years ago, he faced a real choice: Fold his tent and stay home in Easton or continue a life of adventure.
Aside from challenging work as a radiologist at Bridgeport Hospital, Butler liked to hunt big game in Alaska, enjoyed mountaineering and ice climbing, as well as other high-risk pursuits that the average person would never contemplate.
When the tremors, hesitations, anxiety and other aspects of Parkinson's began to pose serious problems for Butler in 2004, he still wanted to go on a big-game safari in Africa but wondered if he were up to the task.
But he decided to book a trip to Tanzania after his wife, Jane, urged him to go. "I do not want you to name me as the reason you never hunted Africa. Perhaps you should go while you can," she recalled telling him, referring to the progressive debilitation that most Parkinson's patients suffer.
"I've had to accept my limitations, but I decided to do what I wanted and invent ways of doing it," said Butler, 54. "I also have a fantastic wife to keep me going."
Realizing he could be in mortal danger facing a Cape buffalo, lion or leopard on the hunt if his hands shook and he were unable to shoot accurately, Butler prepared by practicing shooting more quickly and from different positions.
"Parkinson's disease, involving a resting tremor, obviously is not the ideal recipe for success at big-game hunting," he said. "Necessary hunting skills foiled by this disease include the ability to hold a weapon steady regardless of position."
He was well aware that Niki Atcheson, an experienced hunter and guide, had been gored and nearly killed while hunting in Africa by a Cape buffalo bull she had wounded previously.
As fate would have it, Butler, while on the safari, faced great danger himself when he and his party were charged by a herd of a dozen Cape buffalo.
"At my first shot, the complete herd ran directly at us. I was instructed to keep shooting at my bull, while the professional hunter shot in front of the herd," Butler recalled.
"After I fired two more shots, my bull veered off and dropped. The remainder of the herd mercifully turned away as well."
The head of the bull was preserved and mounted on the wall of a room in his house that contains other trophies from his safari -- the heads of another Cape buffalo, an eland and a hartebeest. Another trophy is a male lion that Butler shot on a dry riverbed.
He laments he was unable to shoot a leopard after it was drawn to some meat put in a tree as bait.
"I had extreme trouble staying still enough to make the shot. I took the shot, but completely missed," he said. "The leopard wiped his chin and left without injury."
In the course of events, Butler learned other hunters afflicted with Parkinson's have also been able to participate in a big- game hunt with the help of people who organize the expeditions.
Though his hunting trip went well, Butler faced even greater challenges when he returned to his radiology work at the hospital.
"Some radiologists spend their time reading films," he said. "I did that, too, but I also used catheters to diagnose abnormalities and correct problems in the arteries and major organs including the brain and the liver. I used the catheters on everything except the heart, which is the work of a cardiologist."
He said he realized his work with patients was at an end because of tremors from his disease.
"Your hands can't be shaking then you are putting a catheter into someone's brain. You need good eye-hand coordination," he said.
Bridgeport Hospital then made him head of its Radiology Department, allowing him to instruct and guide other physicians in diagnostic and corrective techniques. But he experienced anxious moments and days of not feeling well enough to work that caused him to retire in 2005.
The burden of being on call three or four nights a week, separating him from his family, was lifted, but Butler was at home with much less to do and challenged by limitations from his disease.
Even so, he enjoyed spending more time for a year with his son, Gordon, then a senior in high school before he went off to Union College in 2007. His son, now a sophomore, competes in national Olympic-style shooting competitions.
The Butlers are also the parents of a daughter, Michelle, a holistic health counselor and certified yoga teacher who lives in Los Angeles.
She studied at the Institute of Integrated Nutrition in New York City.
With big game still gripping his imagination, Butler also took time to hunt American buffalo at a private reserve in western Nebraska.
Ed Csenge, of Keene, N.H., who has also hunted in Africa, joined Butler on the Nebraska adventure. They became acquainted while their sons competed in a shooting event at West Point.
Csenge said it can be hard for Butler to shoot when his hands shake but he can manage to get off a shot quickly during a still moment and hit his target.
"It is really unfortunate for Don, being a successful doctor, to be afflicted with that disease, young as he is," Csenge said. "We have to get together and go an another hunting adventure, something he can manage and enjoy."
The head of the bison that Butler shot in Nebraska was added to other trophies in his home from past hunts, such as a brown bear he shot in the Kodiak Islands off Alaska, a white mountain goat with black horns from Brewer Creek in British Columbia, and the head of a Dall sheep with huge curled horns taken in Alaska's Wrangell Mountains.
His latest adventure was a caribou hunt with his son at the end of August on the shores of Lac de Gras in the Northwest Territory, a nearly disastrous experience.
"While we were crossing the 75-mile wide lake to get to the hunting area, our boat was swamped by huge waves," Butler said. "We ended up marooned on an island. My son suffered from hypothermia before a helicopter rescued us."
Nonetheless, he and his son later had a successful hunting experience and shot two caribou each.
"I began hunting pheasant with my father while I was in high school in Pennsylvania. I was inspired by reading my grandfather's Field and Stream magazine," Butler said.
"I was introduced to big game hunting by Jane's father. He was into deer hunting, which is huge in Pennsylvania."
Butler said he realizes animal-rights advocates and others think that hunting is brutal and cruel. However, they should consider animals die with a single shot from a skilled hunter, while the animals might otherwise be ripped apart, suffer greatly and die during an attack by predators, he said.
He added deer and other species, for lack of hunting, can over populate an area and create an imbalance in the environment.
Aside from hunting, Butler enjoys riding a motorcycle around the northwest area of the state, fishing for wide-mouth bass in New Hampshire, woodworking and bonsai.
"Don doesn't accomplish as much as he did before. He has to rest and take naps," his wife said. "But he doesn't let the disease defeat him. He keeps going."
"Everyone says you need two careers in a lifetime," Butler said.
"We'll see what that will be for me. I've never been satisfied. I always push to do more."
Despite having Parkinson's disease, Dr. Donald Butler, of Easton, has successfully hunted: African lion Alaskan brown bear American buffalo Cape buffalo Eland Hartebeest British Columbia white mountain goat Alaskan Dall sheep Two caribou
Just another night at work for me and Monty will be back here again bright and early. 
