A Piano Fell on Me! – Brendan McGlynn

December 7th is a day I will always remember. On this day in 1972, while at school, a piano fell on me. No exaggeration! I was 13 and needed to relearn to walk after 3 months in traction. On the same day years later, at age 59, I was told I have Parkinson disease (PD) – which felt like a second piano crashed down on me. I don’t know if the experience of being immobilized – from the piano, long hospital visits, or not being able to walk – inspired me, but I developed a passion for hiking. This is how I met my wife Anne. Together we have seen all four corners of the world, including Greenland, Antarctica, Ethiopia, and China. 

With the help of the Parkinson Association of Alberta (PAA), my first six years of travelling with PD only required small adjustments. Physically and mentally, I was ready for any adventure. One of our local favourites is a ten-hour hike to Mount Temple in Banff National Park – a summit I had traversed 45 years before when in my late teens. This time, I was roped to a guide in the very steep sections, which gave me the confidence to persevere.

Now entering my 8th year since my PD diagnosis, mountain hiking is far more challenging with my balance issues. My PD became a fear factor on our recent holiday to Indonesia. During our 30-day adventure, I lost a bit of my confidence along the way (along with a few other items such as glasses). After hearing locals tell us how dangerous the four-day mountain summit was (the sixth hardest in Asia), we changed our last hike to an easier two-day one, which I found physically challenging in the steep sections. I let Anne know that the level of difficulty was at my new limit. Anne still sees me as someone who can do anything.

But as my balance isn’t what it used to be, I value my safety more than ever – yet I remain highly motivated to keep up with Anne. My motivation to have a no-holds-barred approach is still strong, and I want to continue travelling and having adventures with Anne. The two of us are working on a list of things that I shouldn’t do now, such as kayaking and scuba, but finding alternative options. We’re also developing a list of skill sets (e.g., good hand dexterity) and modifications that will make other alternative activities safe for me to do. Each trip is a learning opportunity, and we plan to continue seeking out new adventures, albeit in a new way.

PD can be a mixed blessing. On a positive note—we’ve met the most amazing and caring people, such as Karen and Darrell Davis, with whom we’ve enjoyed many an adventure. Also, PD has led to me trying things I never would have done before—including painting tiles, social singing (everyone is muted), and playing the drums—thanks to PAA events. Two of my favourite events are the Hope Conference and the Wellness Retreat because I always learn so much from the presentations and quality time with neurologists at Q&A sessions. I am a big fan of PAA and their caring staff and can’t thank them enough for making my journey with PD a positive one.