Skateboarding Legend's Resilient Comeback From Parkinson's
Shawn Connolly is no stranger to pain and perseverance. As a professional skateboarder, he'd pushed his body to its limits countless times, shaking off the usual aches and pains that come with the territory. Busy stacking clips through the hills and plazas of San Francisco, Connolly found success, skating with well-known pros throughout the late 90s and early 2000s, and he was featured in the legendary skateboard publication Thrasher Magazine.
In 2006, Connolly and his wife, Thuy Nguyen, started teaching kids skateboarding lessons at local parks. Ngyuen, a teacher in San Francisco, recognized the need for students to have an outlet to express themselves physically and saw skateboarding as a perfect catalyst. Connolly was initially hesitant about the idea, but after some convincing from Nguyen, he got on board.
Nguyen’s educational approach and Connelly’s vast knowledge of skateboarding proved valuable to the SF community. What started as small private lessons quickly turned into an annual summer camp. This allowed the couple to open the San Francisco Skate Club, a hub for young skaters on Divisadero Street. Their shop became a place young skaters from all crevices of San Francisco would flock to, often experiencing Connolly’s generosity as he was known to hook them up with boards and other skate gear when they couldn't afford it. With his wife, Conelly carved his niche in the rich skate landscape of San Francisco, providing a welcoming place for young newcomers to get acclimated to the culture.
However, life took an unexpected turn for Connolly in 2015 when he began experiencing symptoms that would drastically alter his life. Out of nowhere, he noticed his hands start to clench uncontrollably and found himself battling bouts of stiffness that made even the simplest movements a struggle. At first, Connolly chalked it up to the wear and tear of years spent on a skateboard. The countless big jumps and slams finally caught up with the then 39-year-old, or at least that's what Connelly figured. "I mistakenly thought it was aging," Connolly admitted to the University of California San Francisco. "I've had sciatic problems and bad joints, like most athletes. But it turned out to be a little more than that."
The diagnosis of early-onset Parkinson's disease was a shock. For someone whose life had been defined by control and precision acquired from years of practice and love for skateboarding, Parkinson’s was a cruel twist of fate. The disease began to erode the skills that had made Connolly successful—his balance, coordination, and fine motor skills. As the symptoms progressed, they began to impact his work at the San Francisco Skate Club, making it increasingly difficult to keep up with the demands of running the shop and teaching the kids who had come to rely on him.
Amid his health challenges, Connolly was also navigating the difficult journey of supporting his wife, Thuy Nguyen, who was diagnosed with cancer in 2019. As Thuy’s condition worsened, Connolly focused on being there for her, even as his symptoms became more pronounced and difficult to manage. Her passing in November 2020 was a devastating blow, leaving Connolly not only to manage his health and finances but to carry on the work they had started together.
Despite the physical and emotional toll, Connolly wasn’t ready to give up. His search for a way to manage his symptoms led him to the UCSF Movement Disorders and Neuromodulation Clinic, where he was introduced to a pioneering treatment that offered a glimmer of hope: adaptive deep brain stimulation (aDBS). Unlike traditional DBS, which provides constant electrical stimulation to the brain, aDBS adjusts in real-time, responding to the brain's signals and delivering just the right amount of stimulation to counteract symptoms as they arise. This innovative approach was being developed by Dr. Philip Starr and his team at UCSF, who saw in Connolly a perfect candidate for their experimental treatment.
The decision to undergo the procedure was not easy. Connolly had to explain the situation to the kids at the skate club, knowing they would notice the changes in him. "It was difficult for me to rally to have that discussion," he admitted. While the experimental procedure was far from a sure shot, Connolly knew that if he wanted to continue doing what he loved, this was an opportunity he needed to take.
The surgery, performed in March 2021, was an eight-hour marathon. Wires were inserted deep into Connolly’s brain to target the areas responsible for movement, and electrodes were placed to deliver the electrical stimulation. The procedure was just the beginning of a long journey toward regaining control over his life. Although Connolly felt some immediate relief after the device was switched on, it wasn’t the complete solution he had hoped for. The device still needed to be fine-tuned to respond accurately to his symptoms, a process that would take nearly a year of careful monitoring and adjustments by the team at UCSF.
"When something doesn't feel right, I send them a text, and they send me a new download," Connolly told UCSF, describing his new reality with the experimental device. Over time, the team developed an algorithm tailored explicitly to Connolly’s brain signals, allowing the device to better manage the fluctuations in his symptoms.
Improvements have been significant since 2021. “I had no motor fluctuations for eight hours straight,” Connelly said recently to UCSF. "I felt fine. I went for a long walk. I drove. I came home and made dinner, all that stuff," he recalled, describing the sense of normalcy that had become so elusive since his diagnosis nearly a decade ago.
Thanks to his unwavering spirit and the exceptional doctors at the University of Califonia San Francisco, Connolly is Back at San Francisco Skate Club, leading summer camps and mentoring the next generation of skaters with the same passion he and his wife had when they first started. The journey has been far from easy, but Connolly's resilience, both on and off the skateboard, inspires those around him and embodies the spirit of perseverance, the lifeblood of skateboarding.