By Mike Richman | The Oregonian/OregonLive
Aug. 10, 2016
Brian Grant, a low post player for The Portland Trail Blazers in the late 90's was diagnosed last year with Parkinson's disease. He was photographed at a bank in downtown Portland. Jamie Francis/The Oregonian
Grant played 12 NBA seasons, including three with the Blazers from 1997-2000. Three years after he ended his professional basketball career, he received a life-changing diagnosis.
"It's so hard knowing something's wrong but not knowing what that something is. No one had any answers for me, until I saw Dr. John Nutt at the Oregon Health and Sciences University," Grant writes in The Players' Tribune. "The answer was one that affects only four percent of the under-50 population, and one for which there is no cure. I was 36 years old, one of 400 people to have played in the NBA for 12 seasons, an elite athlete. And I had Young Onset Parkinson's Disease."
Grant writes that he heard from Michael J. Fox and Muhammad Ali's wife, Lonnie --two of the most prominent people suffering from Parkinson's disease -- shortly after he went public with his diagnosis.
The essay also touches on how Grant deals with the disease as a former athlete and parent and how he aims to help others dealing with Parkinson's.
Grant still lives in the Portland area and founded The Brian Grant Foundation in 1999, which provides exercise, nutrition and support programs for people with Parkinson's.
http://health.einnews.com/article/339386165/C2gNb1SWpcWlv5Yi
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Brian Grant - The Players' Tribune
It started with a twitch.
Just a little patch of skin on my
left wrist that would twitch every so often. I’d had twitches before from
previous surgeries, but this one was different: it came out of nowhere. I didn’t
think much of it, at first. I just thought it was what happened after playing
12 years in the NBA.
Then I started feeling very
uncoordinated with my left leg, which was strange, since that was my dominant
jumping leg. I chalked it up to getting older.
The twitch became a constant
tremor. I wanted to try out for ESPN and get back into hoops through the media,
but once the episodes started, I didn’t follow through.
It was unnerving to go to any
event, because I was so worried about how I looked. In 2008, I went to a
Portland Trail Blazers game for Kevin Duckworth’s memorial. 20,000 fans stared
down at me, cheered for me, and all I could think of was hiding my hand.
It’s so hard knowing something’s
wrong but not knowing what that something is. No one had any answers for me,
until I saw Dr. John Nutt at the Oregon Health and Sciences University.
The answer was one that affects
only four percent of the under-50 population, and one for which there is no
cure.
I was 36 years old, one of 400
people to have played in the NBA for 12 seasons, an elite athlete. And I had
Young Onset Parkinson’s Disease.
“Doc, I think your scale is wrong,
because there’s no way I weigh that much.”
That’s probably not the typical
reaction of someone who just learned they have a life-changing disease, but I
had to say something to break the ice.
My reaction wasn’t really too high
or too low because of everything else I’d been dealing with since retirement. I
was going through a divorce, 15 years of marriage coming to an end. I’d also
been battling severe depression, which was a real monster.
I don’t know about you, but before
I dealt with it, I thought people with depression were weak. I didn’t think
that depression was an illness, I thought it was a state of mind that you
should be able to pull yourself out of. Then I got into a situation where I
could do absolutely nothing for myself. When I was at my darkest hour, I felt
so ashamed, like, oh my God, people are going to think I’m weak. Depression is
serious, man.
Retirement, divorce, depression,
now this. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t sad, I just wanted to know what was next,
and whether this would kill me.
It makes sense, then, that my next
comment was:
“What’s next?”
Retirement, divorce, depression,
now this. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t sad, I just wanted to know what was next,
and whether this would kill me.
I didn’t really know too much
about the disease, aside from the fact that Michael J. Fox and Muhammad Ali
both suffered from it. So, I went on the Internet to learn everything I could.
Let me tell you, that is the worst
thing anyone can do. I had to go through 20 articles describing nightmare
scenarios before I found one good one.
Luckily, two weeks later, I
received two calls that enlightened me and gave me a new purpose.
One was from Lonnie Ali,
Muhammad’s wife. She wanted to know how I was doing, not just with the
Parkinson’s, but with everything else in my life. She said that just because I
had Parkinson’s doesn’t mean I could ignore everything else that was stressing
me out.
He put himself in my shoes and
said Parkinson’s was going to be extra hard for me. It wasn’t going to be like
before where, if something was bothering me, I could just take a pill or get
surgery. I was dealing with something that was going to win eventually, no
matter how hard I fought. We talked about next steps, and whether I’d join the
fight against the disease.
“If you don’t want to, that’s OK,”
he said. “But once you step into that arena, you’re in it. There’s no stepping
in and stepping out.”
I stepped in.
For a while, though, I wasn’t
quite sure how I wanted to fight. The Michael J. Fox Foundation already does a
wonderful job with research. The Ali’s are at the forefront of patient care in
Arizona.
As I started to meet other
Parkinson’s patients, and people who knew others who were dealing with
Parkinson’s, I saw that the ones who were proactive and exercising were doing a
lot better than the people who weren’t moving around. The more I
read about the disease, the more I learned that if you’re not up and
active, you’re that much closer to shutting down.
When I realized that, and when I
remembered who I was — an elite athlete, a 12-year NBA veteran, someone who
knew all about nutrition and being fit — I finally found my place in the fight.
I aimed my foundation, the Brian Grant Foundation, at a new purpose:
encouraging and empowering people with Parkinson’s to be proactive with their
care.
Medication doesn’t work for
everyone. But exercise that opens you up like Yoga and Pilates, as well as
being conscious about your nutrition, is going to positively affect the way you
progress. I guarantee, if you put me next to two versions of myself 10 years
from now — one who is active, and one who isn’t — you’d see a major difference.
The support I’ve received from the
NBA community has been amazing.
Charlie Rosenzweig, who works for
NBA Entertainment, came out to our inaugural golf and gala event, Shake It Till
We Make It, helping get retired and active players involved. He was immediately
sold on the cause after that. Bill Walton, George Gervin and Charles Barkley
have all participated in the event, too.
Sometimes, support has come from
the most unlikely places, like an old foe.
A few weeks after I went public
with my disease, I got a call from number I didn’t recognize.
“Brian, it’s Karl Malone. I just
heard about your disease and I was wondering if there’s anything I can do to
help.”
As it turned out, I did have an
idea.
“Do you remember Games Five and
Six of the Western Conference semis?” I asked.
“I’ll never forget them.”
“Well, after Game Five, I went
home and watched your interview. When I had my interview the next day, they
asked me what message I had for you. I didn’t want to talk smack. I just
said that you’re my idol, I patterned my game after you, and I heard you like
to hunt and fish, and I’m hoping that one day we can go fishing
together. So I think a fishing trip with you and me would be a really
great auction item.”
All he said was: “Done.”
We raised $107,000 from that one
trip.
The Brian Grant Foundation is
already becoming a place that’s helping people figure out what they need to do
to help themselves. It’s helping them be proactive with their care. We’ve done
a great job assisting those in the Pacific Northwest and California. Now it’s
time to help people across the nation.
Parkinson’s manifests in so many
different ways. I’ve been lucky. All that’s really happened to me since the
diagnosis is the tremor in my left hand has moved to my left foot.
But two friends of mine who were
diagnosed at the same time I was — who haven’t been as active — have
struggled with dystonia, bladder and bowel issues. A lot of men end up getting
catheters in their forties. It’s such an unimaginable blow, both physically and
mentally. Your body fails you, and you have to start using things you didn’t
think would come into your life until you were 70 or 80, or at all.
Think about how hard that is, not
just on the patient, but the people around them. I’ve seen couples who were
married for decades split because of this disease. Maybe at the beginning,
immediately after the diagnosis, they say they’re going to be there, but as the
symptoms start to manifest — maybe you’re not walking as well, maybe your face
starts to sag — it’s a challenge for that significant other to stay in it.
They didn’t sign up for it. They
signed up for the Brian Grant who was running up and down the court, dreads
flying. Now he’s gained a little weight, he’s not as coordinated, he’s a tad
bit insecure about himself.
But I never say anything about
people who can’t hang in there. It takes true love and commitment to the
relationship to stay through it all. The ones that do hang in there, though,
really inspire me.
So do my kids. Always.
I have two little boys, one is
three years old, the other is one. They’re going to grow up with the
progression quickly taking hold. I wonder and worry about that sometimes. But I
know I have to be honest with them and let them know what’s going on.
My older kids, my
13-and-14-year-old daughters, educated themselves on the disease. They know
dad’s going to be all right. As I progress, though, I’m constantly asking them
to do things that used to be simple tasks.
“Can you button this for me?” I’ll
ask my daughter.
“Will you ever be able to button
it yourself?”
“Probably not. Which is why I have
you. You’re never getting married, you’re just going to be here and take care
of me forever!”
“Dad!”
That’s the other thing I’ve
learned: you have to have to have a sense of humor.
It’s not easy. Nothing about this
disease is easy.
The hardest part, for me, was
losing my ego. I’m so used to being fit, toned and in control. Now I’m losing
control, and I have to do that with dignity.
Sometimes I’m really good with it,
and other times I feel like I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. But I
have to be able to open up and allow people to help me, even though I may think
I want to deal with it myself. If my kids, my family, my friends reach out, I
have to be able to let them in.
***
The Brian Grant Foundation
provides exercise, nutrition, and emotional support programs for people with
Parkinson’s. Please join the fight against Parkinson’s by supporting the
foundation’s CrowdRise campaign.
http://www.theplayerstribune.com/brian-grant-lakers-parkinsons/
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