idea what to expect in your future.

That's exactly what one St. George's man lives with every day.

"The only definite thing is that I'm going to die,'' John (Roy) Trott told The Royal Gazette .

Roy suffers from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) -- otherwise known as Lou Gehrig's disease.

Beyond the discomfort brought on by the slow, inevitable loss of mobility, the 32-year-old former mason had to endure months of uncertainty as both local and overseas doctors struggled to diagnose his condition.

"One doctor said: `Just quit smoking','' said his mother, Rita Smith. "We weren't satisfied. There were no recommendations to see anyone else, and no tests.

"We had no idea what we were dealing with. We were virtually playing it by ear,'' she added.

But Roy's plight is not uncommon. The early symptoms of ALS are often minor, and easily overlooked -- even by doctors.

Roy's deterioration began some six years ago when he developed a slight tremor in his head movements, said Ms Smith. A year later he simply blacked out.

"I hit the ground and then woke back up. There was no warning, my brain just shut down,'' said Roy.

The following year he inexplicably lost consciousness again. And later, his mother detected a change in her son's walk.

"Last year, there was a slight imbalance. Unless you knew what you were looking for, you couldn't see it,'' she said.

Despite visits to the doctor and tests which found nothing, Roy's mother remained concerned.

"I just felt that there was something wrong,'' she said.

Yet, even after Roy sought out a new doctor, he was forced to endure six more months of overseas testing, re-testing and waiting before finally being diagnosed in April with the fatal neurological disorder.

He now knows that his brain's ability to start and control muscle movement is dying as his nervous system is attacked.

Arm and leg movement, speech, swallowing, and breathing are especially targeted and unused muscles eventually waste away from disuse.

Like Roy's case, the early symptoms may be slight and are often unnoticed.

They may include twitching and cramping of muscles, slurred speech, or a clumsiness in the hands and feet.

In the US, an estimated 30,000 people have the affliction, but it develops differently in each patient. There is no way to predict the pace or type of degeneration.

Perhaps the most frightening aspect is that mental faculties remain unaffected by the body's erosion. Patients retain the ability to reason, taste, see, smell, hear and recognise touch, but may eventually become paralysed.

At present, Roy remains independent and takes muscle relaxers because otherwise he "walks like a 90-year-old''.

But walking is still difficult for the man who started running marathons while in the Bermuda Regiment. His gait is awkward and slow, and he cannot go for more than a few yards before tiring.

Ms Smith pointed at the wall leading from Roy's bedroom to the kitchen.

"That's Roy's trail,'' she said, pointing to the numerous hand and fingerprint stains.

After losing his job earlier this year, Roy spends most of his time at home, sometimes playing video games.

His mother worries about Roy's growing isolation from the outside.

"People don't need to stay away from him. If he has company, that's great because I know he's not sitting up in his room,'' she said.

"He needs company and companions. He needs people to show they care. It's always nice to see old friends, and maybe new ones.

"He's still Roy.'' And she appealed to local people who may have endured similar problems with Lou Gehrig's disease to contact her family.

"We need knowledgeable people to talk to so we know what to expect,'' she said.

Roy faces his plight with quiet acceptance. In about a month he will take part in a computer class. In October, his neurologist will visit from the US to give a check-up. Later still Roy will have to travel to America himself.

His medical costs continue to escalate.

He is neither a hero, nor a victim, but talks about his uncertain future with a frank, dark humour.

"I'm gonna get lazy,'' he said when asked about his weakening. "I expect that. One day I'm not going to be able to move.

"All I can do is wait and see,'' he added: "I feel like `Why is this happening to me?'. I feel like I've been cheated out of life, but I can't find who to put the blame on.

"Sometimes I get angry. I just sit there and cry. I just have to deal with it as best I can.'' SEEKING UNDERSTANDING -- John (Roy) Trott had to endure months of uncertainty as both local and overseas doctors struggled to diagnose his condition.