Disability

As a res­ult of my blog and my will­ing­ness to be open and speak can­didly about my Dis­ab­il­it­ies, I’ve had many people find me via Google and mes­sage me with ques­tions (often bewildered par­ents of Dis­abled young chil­dren). I wel­come con­tact and ques­tions, par­tic­u­larly from those who are affected by the dis­ab­il­it­ies dis­cussed here; this is just my chance to explain what my Dis­ab­il­it­ies are and how affect me. I hope it sheds some light for those that find me through (re)searching online.

Cereb­ral Palsy

If you have read about me, you will have noticed that I men­tion that I have Cereb­ral Palsy (CP). Cereb­ral Palsy is a broad term used to describe types of per­man­ent brain dam­age that are usu­ally caused before, dur­ing or just after birth. Often, these types of brain dam­age impair move­ment, motor skills, the senses and in approx­im­ately two-thirds of cases: the capa­city for learn­ing and understanding.

CP affects each per­son dif­fer­ently, I couldn’t begin to cover here the many dif­fer­ent strains and com­bin­a­tions of symp­toms that can be exper­i­enced by someone with CP — I can only speak from my own exper­i­ence as everyone’s exper­i­ence with CP is as indi­vidual as they them­selves are. How­ever, there is a detailed, but very inter­est­ing and rel­at­ively easy to fol­low art­icle at The National Insti­tute of Neur­o­lo­gical Dis­orders and Strokes web­site that gives a much broader over­view, should you be interested.

How I Became Disabled

My mother enjoyed what she has referred to as a per­fectly nor­mal, healthy preg­nancy; due to be born dur­ing the second week of April 1985, I was my parent’s first child and they had little or no reason to sus­pect that I wouldn’t enter the world a fully able-bodied, healthy baby. How­ever for reas­ons unknown, con­trac­tions began dur­ing the night (when my mother was barely more than 6 months preg­nant) and by the time she was in hos­pital, there was little (if any­thing) the doc­tors could do to delay my very pre­ma­ture birth, which happened in the after­noon of the 6th Feb­ru­ary 1985.

Born at just 31 weeks gest­a­tion, I was smal­ler than the size of an adult hand and without lungs that were developed enough to allow me to breathe. I was placed on a life-support machine as soon as pos­sible, but it is believed that because I was unable to breathe for myself imme­di­ately at birth, my brain was starved of oxy­gen and I incurred the sig­ni­fic­ant and life-long brain dam­age described above.

I was on a vent­il­ator for a week and in Intens­ive Care for a fur­ther three weeks, before being well enough to go home. My par­ents were told to expect some devel­op­mental issues, but that the full extent of any long-term prob­lems would not be clear until I was older. I was offi­cially dia­gnosed with Cereb­ral Palsy Spas­tic Diple­gia at 18 months old, whilst my mother was near­ing the end of a dif­fi­cult preg­nancy with my sis­ter1.

Ataxic CP

Although I have a form of CP known as Spas­tic Diple­gia, I also pos­sess the odd few Ataxic symp­toms. The Ataxic symp­toms include my stam­mer (which I had treat­ment for as a child and is now sel­dom notice­able), trouble with bal­ance, co-ordination, depth per­cep­tion and sig­ni­fic­antly delayed reflexes. I also suf­fer with inten­tion tremor, where my hands shake when I go to do cer­tain small, fiddly or pre­cise things. I have “good days” and “bad days” with the tremors. Some days I can even do really pre­cise things like pluck­ing my eye­brows with barely shak­ing at all, other days I can’t even pick up a cup of tea without end­ing up wear­ing it.

It is the Ataxic side of things that pre­vent me from driv­ing; my very delayed reflexes and clumsy limb coordin­a­tion and lack of accur­ate depth per­cep­tion means that put­ting me in the driver’s seat of a vehicle is like put­ting someone com­pletely pissed behind the wheel. I’d be a danger to both myself and others.

Spas­tic Diplegia

In layman’s terms, Spas­tic Diple­gia means that the “sig­nals” sent from my brain to my legs (and to a lesser extent, my arms and hands) are sig­ni­fic­antly scrambled. This res­ults in my muscles and ten­dons in my legs being per­man­ently “tensed” (Hyper­to­nia — explained below), my joints being stiff and move­ment in my lower body being very limited.

Scoli­osis

It is also worth not­ing that I have Neur­omus­cu­lar Scoli­osis, known as my “sec­ond­ary con­di­tion” as it has occurred as a dir­ect res­ult of my CP. It is a degen­er­at­ive spinal deform­ity that is com­mon in people with CP as a res­ult of how CP impacts the muscles sur­round­ing the spine.

Treat­ment

Physio­ther­apy & Ortho­paedic Surgery

Hyper­to­nia causes to ten­dons shorten and not grow as they should, res­ult­ing in it then becom­ing impossible to move the affected area “nor­mally” without treat­ment. Physio­ther­apy helps for the most part; stretch­ing and relax­ing the shortened ten­dons and tight muscles, but some­times sur­gery is neces­sary. I have had reg­u­lar physio­ther­apy since my dia­gnosis as a tod­dler and under­went vari­ous forms of sur­gery to lengthen ten­dons through­out my child­hood, which allowed me to retain a cer­tain level of mobility.

Between the ages of 4 and 13, I used numer­ous (Dynamic) AFOs and Ortho­paedic Gaiters and I walked with an assort­ment of walk­ing frames, canes and crutches. Admit­tedly, it wasn’t very grace­ful, but it had pur­pose. (Any­one who wit­nessed me walk­ing would tell you it was more sheer will as opposed to skill, that kept me upright!) I would even walk unaided on occa­sion, as long as the dis­tance was short and I could occa­sion­ally touch on fur­niture to keep my bal­ance. I couldn’t stand unaided though, I’m sure it was the for­ward motion that kept me steady because as soon as I stopped and stood still I’d be in a heap on the floor.

At 13 years old, I had rather drastic sur­gery, which caused as many com­plic­a­tions as it relieved (as is so often the case with the CP/orthopaedic sur­gery relationship).

Like many babies born with the CP, one of my hips was par­tially dis­lo­cated. This was left well alone as it never caused me any pain, but in my early teens, I was told that if I didn’t have it cor­rec­ted I would suf­fer arth­ritis that would put me in a wheel­chair. My sur­geon also said that while I was under anaes­thetic, they would take this oppor­tun­ity to lengthen vari­ous ten­dons again. This was a very big oper­a­tion last­ing about 7 and a half hours and I came out of the theatre in a plaster-cast known as a “Hip Spica” — the cast went from my toes on my right leg to the top of my thigh and then around both my hips and base of my back up to my chest, you can see an image here. This was to stop any hip move­ment while I was heal­ing. I couldn’t even move/sit up and was bed-ridden for the dur­a­tion, being fed whilst flat on my back, drink­ing through straws and being rolled onto bed pans (which took at least two people as the cast was so heavy). I was in plaster for 10 weeks and con­tin­ued to remain bed-ridden for a fur­ther 2 weeks.

The prob­lems with my hip were solved and all my ten­dons lengthened to sat­is­fact­ory degrees, but this was at the expense of some undesir­able side effects. Cor­rect­ing my hip place­ment involved break­ing and sub­sequently short­en­ing my right leg at the thigh. (As my hip had been par­tially dis­lo­cated for so many years, the bones in my legs had begun to twist and deform to com­pensate, this twist had to be removed thus, short­en­ing my leg by 2 and a half inches.) My CP–affected muscles didn’t appre­ci­ate this bone short­age and have bunched-up and con­trac­ted res­ult­ing in me hav­ing a slightly wonky thigh bone (only really notice­able if you com­pare it to the other leg) and a con­sid­er­able loss of usage in my right knee. (I’ve always had “dodgy knees” any­way — I have high knee-caps that enjoy ran­domly clunk­ing in and out of align­ment with the rest of my leg.)

With some intense Hydro­ther­apy (which is basic­ally physio in a pool where the water is kept at a bath-like tem­per­at­ure) and sev­eral years of physio­ther­apy, I learnt to walk rather unstead­ily with a shoe-raise and crutches, but this pro­gress remained at a thera­peutic level and was unsuit­able for “real-life” use as it took a good 20 mins+ to put on splints, shoe raise etc and I needed someone with me, guid­ing me and get­ting ready to catch me, as I was extremely unsteady and weak.

(Some of the) Sur­gical Pro­ced­ures to date:

  • Medial Ham­string Length­en­ing x 2
  • Tendo-Achilles Length­en­ing x 3
  • Adductor Release x 2
  • Femoral De-rotational Osteotomy

Med­ic­a­tion

My mobil­ity has since deteri­or­ated fur­ther over the years since that oper­a­tion and I now longer walk at all, not even dur­ing physio. As a child, my CP sel­dom caused me pain. How­ever, this is chan­ging as my body ages. Now, not a week goes by without me exper­i­en­cing mus­cu­lar cramp in my hands and/or feet or some form of joint or mus­cu­lar pain in in my neck, shoulders, spine, hips or legs. Although I find that reg­u­lar physio, heat and sleep/rest assists in reliev­ing most pain, I am also now on reg­u­lar, long-term, doses of med­ic­a­tion. These include: Dantrolene and Diazepam, after a rather unsuc­cess­ful stint using Baclofen.

Altern­at­ive Therapies

Recently, I have embarked on the route of using altern­at­ives to the med­ic­ally invas­ive meth­ods most com­monly adop­ted to help man­age the pain and phys­ical symp­toms of my condition(s). I now have weekly ses­sions of thera­peutic mas­sage and reflex­o­logy to help com­bat the spasms and the mus­cu­lar and tendon/ligament strain caused by the abnor­mal mes­sages sent for my brain to the rest of my body and the unnat­ural way my body is forced to move and com­pensate, as a result.

I am find­ing the treat­ment a pos­it­ive and help­ful experience.

Wheel­chair

I have been a full-time wheel­chair user for about 15 years, I cur­rently drive a made-to-measure Argon Ti by Quickie with a cus­tom, two-tone paint-job. It has changed my world for the better.

In a funny way, I’m actu­ally more inde­pend­ent now in a lot of ways than I was when on crutches. I know that to people that walk that prob­ably sounds like a bizarre state­ment to make, but for me, walk­ing involved both my arms and legs (as I used crutches). I could never carry any­thing, open doors or use my hands whilst stand­ing — even hav­ing an itchy nose was a night­mare if I happened to be walk­ing at the time. Even when I was on crutches, I still couldn’t do stairs — so there’s not much change there. Not to men­tion, as my bal­ance was so off, I was forever fall­ing and doing more dam­age (chip­ping bones etc).

CP is a lot­tery, there are many with the con­di­tion who can’t com­mu­nic­ate, suf­fer seizures and can’t move any of their limbs — even eat­ing liquid­ised food is a moun­tain they have to climb every­day. Also, only one-third of people with CP do not suf­fer any form of men­tal impair­ment. Luck­ily, I am a mem­ber of that third.

This may seem all a bit heavy going to those who aren’t famil­iar with CP, but I think that everything hap­pens for a reason and I wouldn’t change a thing. For me per­son­ally, CP isn’t so much an afflic­tion, it’s simply just another attrib­ute that makes up who I am. It is as much a part of me as being left-handed or hav­ing blue eyes. To take away that would be to alter who I am com­pletely and I’m quite attached to “me”, I couldn’t ima­gine being any other way. I’m one of the very few lucky ones and I’m very appre­ci­at­ive of it.


  1. who incid­ent­ally, (and thank­fully) was born healthy, happy and fully able-bodied [back]