18/12/2025
Gillian shares her story, "On 20 June 2022, my life changed without warning. I was arriving at a conference where I was due to present when, just moments later, I had a stroke. One minute I was stepping into my professional world as I always had, confident, capable, in motion - and the next, everything I knew about myself shifted.
The stroke affected almost every part of me: my speech, face, swallowing, my right arm and hand, my right leg, and elements of my cognitive processing. Overnight, the tools I relied on, my voice, fluency, mobility, and leadership, were suddenly no longer there in the same way.
It changed not only what I could do, but how I experienced the world. The pace of my life slowed dramatically, and so did my sense of identity. But in that space, something else began to grow a deeper presence, compassion, patience, and an appreciation for moments and people I might once have rushed straight past.
Music has always been part of my story. I grew up singing, playing piano, joining choirs and bands, and music has followed me through most of my life. After my stroke, singing was the first thing I tried to return to. For some people, their singing voice improves after a stroke. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of them. I even took lessons, but no matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t working.
After a few years, I realised I needed something creative again, something that wasn’t just another rehab exercise, but a way to reconnect with a part of myself that existed long before stroke.
That’s when I saw DJ on The Piano. I became completely determined to find him. It didn’t matter where in Australia he lived or whether we met in person or on Zoom - I just knew I wanted to connect with him.
A week later I finally got through and discovered he lived in Sydney which was close enough for a lesson. And then he casually asked if I could come the following Wednesday. I was so excited I could hardly believe it.
DJ teaches classical piano in the same style I learned until I was about 13, so returning to that music has felt deeply nostalgic and grounding. These days, I’m working on a piece I learned as a child, playing it entirely with my left hand. My right hand still doesn’t move, and rests quietly on my thigh while I play.
That decision wasn’t about rehabilitating my hand; it was about playing for joy. But music has a way of working quietly in the background. The repetition, posture, coordination and concentration all gently support my physical recovery. Reading music has been a gift to my brain, helping with memory, sequencing, focus, and processing, yet it never feels heavy or clinical. Music wakes up the brain without overwhelming it.
There are challenges, of course. Playing with one hand means adapting everything. But there’s a surprising amount of left-hand-only music out there, and DJ has been incredible at finding or arranging pieces that are both beautiful and achievable. We break everything into tiny sections, small bites of success that build confidence instead of frustration. I’ve learned not to push, fatigue after stroke is real, and kindness to your body always works better than force.
Slow five-finger exercises, tapping patterns away from the piano, and gentle left-hand scales help build flow. And even though my right hand can’t move yet, imagining the movements still lights up something inside - a reminder that every pathway matters.
Emotionally, playing piano has changed everything for me.
It grounds me.
It lifts me.
It gives me a sense of progress - something I’m building, not just recovering from.
Most of all, it reconnects me with creativity and capability, a feeling I worried I might never experience again.
For anyone thinking about learning or returning to an instrument after a stroke, my advice is simple: start gently and with curiosity. Choose something that brings you joy, not something that feels like another task on your rehab checklist or another reminder of what you’ve lost.
Celebrate the tiniest milestones, because they’re not tiny at all. And find the right teacher, someone who understands both music and recovery. Support changes everything.
Your music won’t sound like it used to, and that’s okay. It doesn’t have to.
You aren’t going backwards. You’re creating something new.
For me, the piano has become both a companion and a doorway, letting me express what words sometimes can’t, while opening moments of calm, nostalgia, joy and hope.
It has shifted how I think about recovery altogether. I’m no longer trying to “get back” to who I was. Instead, I’m discovering who I’m becoming.
And that feels like music in its own right."
P.S. DJ provides Piano lessons, please comment below if you are interested in connecting.
If this story resonates with you and you have question, please call the team on StrokeLine 1800 787 653.
