Traveling with Parkinson’s: My Journey with the Sunflower Lanyard
If you see me in an airport or on a bus, I appear like any typical man in his fifties. Outwardly, I show few motor symptoms, despite my diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease (PD) eight years ago. Undergoing Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS) in 2023 granted me increased independence and a renewed zest for life.
Recently, I embarked on not one, but two cross-country round-trip flights all by myself. And when I say, "all by myself," I am not exaggerating. Who knew being a passenger on a plane would demand so much executive functioning?
Having traveled alone often over the past decade, I was skeptical about the impact of wearing a Sunflower Lanyard on my latest journeys. Would it truly make a difference? To my surprise, it was a revelation. The exceptional interactions I experienced made me wonder—if that level of training were more widespread, the experience could have been even more rewarding.
The Sunflower Lanyard Experience
For the uninitiated, the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower lanyard is a globally recognized symbol designed to discreetly denote that the wearer has a non-visible disability and may require added support, understanding, or time in public spaces. Originating at London Gatwick Airport in 2016, the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower has since been adopted by over 300 airports and 18 airlines across 30 countries. Even LEGO has introduced characters sporting the familiar green lanyard with a sunflower pattern, serving as a subtle cue to trained staff that the wearer might need help.
Picture this: I arrive at Vancouver International Airport to catch my flight to Montreal, no luggage to check in, my green lanyard around my neck, and a simple question to ask. An Air Canada agent immediately notices my sunflower lanyard and treats it like a golden ticket. She guides me through every step of security, lifting ropes as if I am a VIP. During the pat-down (thanks to my DBS), she even retrieves my backpack from the conveyor belt. Easy? Absolutely. Transformative? Without a doubt. I could get used to this.
Before boarding, an unexpected twist occurred. Air Canada rebooked my flight to Montreal due to a change in planes, resulting in a layover in Calgary. Imagine me wandering around the airport, completely confused, glancing at my ticket and the gates, wondering why people seemed to be lining up an hour earlier than I expected. An Air Canada employee notices my puzzled expression and inquires, “Are you on this flight?” Without hesitation, she checks my ticket, lifts the ropes like I’m entering an exclusive club, and escorts me to the front of the security line. Later, I realize I forgot about the one-hour time change from Vancouver to Calgary. Why do we still change clocks, again?
The following week, I am off to Newark, NJ. Everything goes ahead smoothly until I am standing in the NEXUS line for U.S. Customs, and a security guard approaches, asking if I left my phone in the tray on the conveyor belt. I pat myself down. My phone is missing. I quickly retrieve it. I pre-board each flight, which provides ample time to navigate the jetway, find my seat, grab any snacks from my backpack, and store them in the overhead compartment. I recommend this for all individuals with PD—it is one of the perks of the disease.
While waiting for my luggage in Newark, I suddenly realize I do not have my wallet. Panic ensues. I recall the bag of trash I discarded earlier enroute to the luggage carousel. Determined, I head to the Air Canada office where an empathetic staff member unlocks the door upon seeing me. He contacts the crew and explains that a passenger from the Vancouver flight might have left his wallet on the plane. Moments later, through the crackle of a radio, I hear: “Does it belong to a… Mr. Gifford?” Just like that, my wallet is back in my hands, safe and sound. Crisis averted! The Air Canada employee informs me they were already boarding for the return flight. Okay, okay—these near-misses might belong in the Parkinson’s bucket.
The return trip to Vancouver does not go as planned either. Since my flight's delayed by two hours, I decide to shop, get a massage and grab a bite to eat. As I pre-board, the gate agent, forcing a smile, informs me that I’m not booked on that flight—my flight left two hours earlier. “You’ll need to make your way to Gate 14 and ask for help.” Ready to surrender, I race from Gate 46. Upon arrival, Gate 14 staff show little interest in my predicament, handing me a card with a QR code and suggesting I connect with ticketing. I manage to get through twice but cannot understand them due to electronic interference and static.
The “Gate 46 and 14 debacles” seem to be among those times when I could have used that special Sunflower Lanyard magic.
After stopping at another United desk, I am rerouted to Vancouver through Los Angeles on United Airlines the next morning. I end up at a Holiday Inn Express and spend the night in a room that reeks of fresh-squeezed Parkinson’s-related brain drain. I am up at 3:30 a.m. and off to try again to get home.
And, of course, on the way back, I discover United Airlines has crammed me into a middle seat—because who would not want that? Three hours later, at Vancouver border patrol, I hand over my customs printout, and the agent waves me through without even checking my passport. Turns out, the Sunflower Lanyard might have a little magic to it after all.
Moments Along the Way
Throughout my journey, I had positive interactions with several employees. A security guard examined my badge carefully. A flight attendant noticed the lanyard and remarked, “That is the second one I have seen today. Can I get you anything?” Another airline employee, wearing a Sunflower button, shared details of his training.
However, for every informed or trained employee, there were those who were unaware. A hotel employee commented, “I love your sunflower lanyard. It is so spring-like.” Then, there was the security officer who repeatedly asked who I was traveling with, as if it is unusual for someone with Parkinson’s to fly alone. It was a poignant reminder that, while the Sunflower Lanyard is beneficial, not everyone recognizes its significance yet.
Sunflower Lanyard Availability and Customization
If you are considering obtaining a Sunflower Lanyard, you can find them at over 300 airports, bus stations, ferries, universities, stadiums and workplaces.
Alternatively, you can order one online from the official Hidden Disabilities Sunflower website. Personalization options include adding your name, emergency contact information, or a brief note like “I have Parkinson’s” to clarify your needs to staff.
For me, it made a significant difference—but let us be honest—it will not prevent you from losing your phone, misplacing your wallet, or missing a flight.
So, whether you are flying across the country or navigating your local airport, do not hesitate to ask for help. We all deserve a little extra care on our journeys.
The 7th World Parkinson Congress (WPC 2026) is just a year away, scheduled for May 24–27, 2026, in Phoenix, Arizona. As you begin to plan your trip, it's a good idea to consider ordering a Hidden Disabilities Sunflower Lanyard in advance.
By obtaining your lanyard ahead of time, you can familiarize yourself with its use and ensure it's packed with your travel essentials. This small step can contribute to a smoother and more comfortable journey to WPC 2026.
You can order an official Sunflower Lanyard from the Hidden Disabilities Sunflower website.
Safe travels, and I will see you in Phoenix!
Larry Gifford, Co-Founder PD Avengers and WPC Alumni Ambassador. Larry has spoken at a few previous World Parkinson Congresses and plans to attend the WPC 2026.
Ideas and opinions expressed in this post reflect that of the author(s) solely. They do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the World Parkinson Coalition®