Getting Legless with Lorna

Educating Lorna

2011-11-27T08:06:00.000-08:00

I have lost my writing mojo. I am not too sure where it ran to or dare I say with whom it ran off, but that’s my story and I am sticking to it. Yeah, I get lazy, but what on earth has happened? Crikey, it’s definitely not like I don’t have anything to say. On the contrary, I think I might have too much too say. I once read that time is speeding up. Initially, I took it as some metaphysical hooha that some smelly, unshaven goofball spontaneously fabricated whilst tripping on chocolate space cakes, in the hopes of sounding smart enough in order to keep up with all the 2012 Doomsday prophets running amok. Now, I am not so sure if I share those exact sentiments. Seriously, think about it, how fast has this year flown by? It is crazy to think that it wasn’t too long ago that I was preparing for this year, ready to get married, write my exams and jet off to the East, oblivious of the fact that I would be made to look like a total ass...BUT let’s not go there! The point I am trying to make is that life goes on and as humans living in an age where we fill our lives to the brim with all sorts of activities, the premise that time is speeding up makes total sense. It seems as if there is always so much to do in such a limited amount time.

Actually, I don’t know what the hell I am talking about, so scratch this entire paragraph. It just seemed like a good excuse to use to justify my laziness.

In any case, I have now completed my second year at university as well as obtaining full time employment at the Nedbank Contact Centre in Durban. I am really delighted about the latter because since becoming dependent on my wheels, I have discovered that it’s really not a cheap undertaking at all. In all honestly, it makes no sense as to why the prices are so sky high when it comes to anything related to disability. Take my wheelchair for example, it’s a smallish type which is typically prescribed for a child. If you were to set out to purchase this specific make or anything similar, be prepared to cough up approximately R15 000 and yes, the bad news is that that only includes the frame. The cushion will cost you an additional R3000- R6000, depending on whether you would like to develop a really gnarly, god awful pressure sore or not. In addition, most wheelies are prescribed a smorgasbord of drugs depending on the severity of disability. These include antispasmodics ,anticonvulsant medication, neuropathic pain meds, steroids, low dosage antibiotics , laxatives and the list just goes on. Altogether, a month’s medication will cost you a minimum of R1500 per month, (and I am referring to generic medicine costs.)Furthermore, it is recommended that Quad/Paraplegics sleep on a special mattress specifically to facilitate adequate pressure care. These babies will normally cost around R2000- R3000 for a simple blow up mattress with separate cells which inflate and deflate as you sleep. This was one essential I chose to omit because it became painstakingly obvious that the person who invented this device evidently did not consider the mechanics of sex. Having Darth Vader doing his breathing thing under your bed while you are trying to get it on, is not really conducive to successful sexy time. On one occasion, I had a guy stay over and attempt to take me down on the Darth, but instead he found himself to be utterly disgusted at what sounded to him like I was letting off wind every time he dared to go in for the kill. So to cut a long story short, that damn mattress got tossed out of the window and my vagina has been smiling ever since :)

But, I digress...Let me get back to my rant. Now, like every other person in this world, I hate being ripped off. Especially, if it involves something vital to my living needs or will help my life to be that much easier. I mean, is it not just ethically wrong to charge people the earth for something which they don’t necessarily want, but they essentially need in order to survive? This is a question which I could ask the entire medical community in South Africa. The status quo is not necessarily limited to the disabled community, but rather includes all those in need of chronic medical attention, drugs, facilities and equipment. It angers me to think that the majority of corrupt politicians working within the South African government line their pockets with millions of Rands every year, while the public health care system is in a state of chaos. Fair enough, we are a developing nation and I am not some Political Science major, but surely the needs of the sickly would rank high upon a list of priorities? Take it or leave it, but it’s just a thought.

Otherwise, things are looking relatively good in the world of Legless. I am healing emotionally, physically and spiritually and as each day passes I discover that you just ought to learn to play the hand that life gives you. Naturally, we are all dealt a variety of cards to play which vary in degrees of complexity. Some are worse than others, some are better, but the real significance in those cards depends on how well you play them. However, the secret is not to become despondent with what you have been given and simply fold, but rather to know and master those cards so very well, that the outcome at the end of the game surprises every person around you as you unexpectedly win the game.

Never has this thought become apparent to me as it did on the 19 September of this year. On this day, a very close friend of mine passed away. He was the father of two amazing people, the grandfather of three beautiful children and the husband to one of the strongest women I know. He was a first hand witness to my own self destruction just over two years ago and yet, continued to uplift me and support me in every way at every opportunity available to him despite the fact that I had inflicted so much heartache, stress and grief upon his own family. He lived with a chronic idiopathic illness which caused him such a great deal of abdominal pain that he was often unable to walk, eat or function normally. Within a period of three years, I saw this strong, vibrant man fade away into a skeleton and hospitalised for a number of months after slipping into a coma. Nevertheless, his relentless spirit continued to fight and he continued encouraging those around him with his positive attitude. Three weeks before he passed, I was fortunate to have had a Skype conversation with this man which remains so vividly engraved in my memory. Within this discussion, he said something which shall echo in my mind until the day I die.

“ Lorna , my dear, I live with such pain that on some days, I just want to give up. But when I wake up in the morning and think that this is far too much for me to bear, I remember you and what you have to deal with every single day of your life. I think of how lucky I am to have everything I need and that at least I can walk outside into the garden at my own leisure. In no ways do I feel sorry for you, I just think that what I have been allotted is nothing in comparison to what you have dealt with in your life. You are a great inspiration to us all. Just one thing, promise me that you will never give up. Now go out there and come have tea with us when you get walking!”

Thank God you cannot see me right now because whenever I think about what he said to me I cannot help myself but burst into tears. Never has one person been so wrong and so right at the same time. Never has a single person moved me in such a deep and profound manner. He was right, I do have my challenges, but in NO WAY can they be compared to anyone else’s difficulties. Everything is relative and although I do not have the easiest life, I am in no way less of person nor do I suffer in any way. His suffering was real. Despite this, I am honoured that he was able to draw strength from my experience and I continue to give thanks for his wonderful life and the wisdom he so openly shared. Since this day, I have witnessed a major shift in my attitude towards life as I have decided to honour the promise that I made Mr Hill. I shall not give up no matter what challenges lie before me because as hard as it may seem, the most important things in life are worth fighting for...

RIP Ken Hill 19/09/2011

Just sitting on the corner of awesome and bombdiggity.

2011-08-27T18:03:00.000-07:00

After my last rant, I figured that I needed some cooling off.
So, after a wonderful relaxing holiday...I have returned only to be inundated with tons of uni work. However, I am happy, healthy and alive...so just to let you know that I am back to my usual self, I have compiled a few pictures of some of the amazing people who have been there for me through thick and thin as well as a bit of Word art to brighten your day. I haven't forgotten you and know that I shall be returning with vengeance.
Legless Lorna has been a very productive ~~retard~~ person for once :)

Jacques...my brother from another mother

My surrogate parents

Two of thee most amazing angels I know!

My birthday party had a porn star theme and hence, it was compulsory for everyone to only be referred to by their porn star names. As you can imagine, it was hilarious...especially after bottles and bottles of champagne.

My Valentina and Daz

Lovely lady Kathryn...our expert Pole Dancer who has envisioned my first activity after I start walking again will be a gyrating motion around the stripper pole(which we now have had erected in our lounge!)

Cayleepants...the lady who makes sure that drunken Legless doesn't get too out of hand!Only kidding, I don't do such things ;)

Tess, Mel,Kelsi, Anneke&Val

Gill and Brett

Nope, your eyes aren't deceiving you.

                                         The man behind all the progress, (and sweat)Brett.


                                              My favourite

hahaha...nah, this is my favourite :D

Life is wonderful at the moment and like every person on this planet, I had to go though the rain and hailstorm before I could see the rainbow. Everything happens for a reason, that reason causes change. Sometimes change is hurts. Sometimes change is bad. But in the end, it’s all for the best.

a big fuck you very much

2011-07-24T06:15:00.000-07:00

So there comes a time in everyones life when we are lied to by people who we love. No one is exempt from such a blunder. Disabled, blind or deaf we all fall prey to the deception of love.
This post is short and sweet and although I am UTTERLY humiliated and furious, it is my wish to rectify and shed some clarity on where I am right now.
For those of you who read my last post(which I did delete due to sheer embarrassment) I spoke of Lindsay breaking up with me. Sure enough, it is rude to air dirty laundry,but you know what... I actually don't give a flying f*ck. I am a blogger and this is part of my life. It has ripped me apart in the most horrendous fashion in the most unjust way possible. If you don't wish to read the rest of this post, in which I shall express my pure red angst,be my guest and stop reading here.

OK.
So, according to my "fiance" 4 weeks ago, he needed to dedicate his time to his golf. Having a long distance relationship (despite me making plans to move over in July)simply was "too hard" for him. He was under so much pressure, and so he was "forced" to sacrifice our relationship in order to succeed in his game. Shame. Poor little Lindsay was forced to play the martyr. Yet, like a fool, I fell for it. In my mind, Lindsay Loo loved me (or so he said) and would never do anything to hurt me. He was such a soft hearted and deeply moral person.
Sheesh what a load.

In any case, I recently discovered that:
* Firstly, he was screwing one of his "good" friend's ex's behind my back. For how long, God only knows!
* He married her on my birthday in Vegas.
*Their "proper wedding" is in November.
* She is older than him and has a child and more nude pictures than I care to count all over the web.
...kiff
Talk about a mother fucker. Actually, I'm glad he never got the chance to meet my mother because he would probably tried to make a move on her too!I find it so ironic how he would describe his anguish after all his girlfriends over the years cheated on him with their ex's. My heart went out to him because who in their right mind would deceive such an angel???Deception in it's highest form.
So that's where I am at. I have no idea what to do with these awful feelings, so I decided on this short update. As for them, they can have a good fucking life together. May karma come around and GIVE THEM EVERY SINGLE THING THAT THEY DESERVE.
As for me, it's time I focus on me and not waste my time on men. I'd rather do that, get walking, attain my doctorate, be hugely successful and make that shithead cry while he sits with that absolute airhead of a slut, day in and day out for the rest of his goddamn life.
You missed out Lindsay.BIG TIME...but thanks for teaching me that evil comes disguised with a pretty face.
And yes, your penis is fucking tiny, yes,I thought of another person everytime we had sex and yes,I faked it every time.
Yes, I lied...
but so did you.

She'll get over that prick in no time. Mark my words.

I do not have any regrets writing this post. The only regret I have is ploughing love into a relationship which clearly was a sham.

C'est la vie!

2011-04-28T14:18:00.000-07:00

Hello dear friends

My humble apologies for going AWOL since December, but due to some rather wonderful and somewhat surprising events, ( yes, you shall know every detail of the in’s and out’s of the cat’s backside by the time I finish my ramble) I have not have the slightest incline as where to even start in order to attempt to describe my escapades over the course of the last 4 months. I find it so ironic that I get around so very much despite being stuck in a wheelchair...but then again, that is another fallacy created by society which I clearly trundle over. I often wet myself laughing at those ignorant people out there who actually think that if you are a paralysed person you are stuck in a wheelchair, in a house twiddling your thumbs all day. In fact, you would be rather surprised at the amount of people who want to ‘give’ me things to do during the day in order to keep me occupied. Often, these individuals approach me with that irritating, pitiful look on their faces and ask me either one of two questions:- The first question more often than not goes something along the lines of , “So tell me now, why are in a wheelchair?” I usually don’t mind people asking me this question provided that they aren’t rude, they don’t jump out of nowhere like some crazy lunatic waiting to highjack me or are 'falling-out-of-their-tree' drunk wanting to shove their ass onto my lap or push me around pretending to be Michael Schumacher. I don’t know about you, but I have always been under the impression that it isn’t very polite to simply 'run your mouth' about a potentially sensitive issue to a total stranger within a public place in a completely tactless manner. And as for those few obnoxious people who randomly approach me out of nowhere, barge in front of me and demand an answer, my tolerance sadly dwindles to below the ground on which I roll. In spite of this, I have developed an attitude of nonchalance and instead of taking offence, I have cultivated a multitude of stories which keep me (and anybody who dares to eavesdrop) entertained. For instance, I was out one night with my boyfriend, having a few quiet drinks in a cocktail lounge. When I decided that it was now time for a refill, I sent my darling to the bar to get me another. All of a sudden, an Australian lad appeared in front of me, drunkenly demanding an answer as to why was I sitting in a wheelchair. Although initially a tad disgruntled, I managed to smile innocently whilst looking up at this nitwit, and sweetly replied,

“ Do you see that guy standing at the bar who’s wearing the blue shirt? Well, he’s my boyfriend. One day, I told him that I really like it rough and that I wanted him to make me cry whenever we did it. Fortunately for me, my man has quite the 'Clam hammer'...and well, a few weeks ago, he banged and hammered me so hard, that he somehow managed to shatter my pelvis. The doctors say that the damage is irreparable, but I don’t care; with a 'Ba-donk-a-donk' like that, it was totally worth it! Hell, I’m surprised that you don’t see more women in wheelchairs around this place!”

And with that said, I can honestly say that in my 24years on this planet, I have never seen such a look of horror on anyone’s face before. He just stood there, dumbfounded as he took a swig of his beer and obviously had not the foggiest idea what to say. I was eager to introduce the inquisitive, intoxicated man to the love of my life, but before I knew it, the moron had disappeared.God only knows what was going through the dummy’s head. Mind you, if I met someone who was actually able to paralyse a person with his penis, I don’t think I would want to stick around either! In any case, the entire point I was trying to embody was that if you ask an inappropriate question at an inappropriate place in an inappropriate manner, then you shouldn’t not be surprised in anyway if you receive an inappropriate response in an inappropriate place in an inappropriate (and ridiculous) manner...

Another pet hate which I have developed, is an intense irritation of people who assume that because my legs don’t work, my brain doesn’t work and thus I must have an intensely boring life whereby I sit at home and count my teeth all day. This is something which really burns my tires. For heaven’s sakes, how ignorant can people be? I am a girl in a wheelchair, not a f%cking vegetable! If anything, I am more active now than I have ever been before. In the last 4months, I have travelled an excess of 31 711km, completed 20 assignments, participated in the Thai New Year (Songkran) festivities, dissected 300 fish (don’t ask), read 4 books, baked approximately 500 items, got 2 tattoo’s, written a book for someone special,consumed a copious amount of alcohol, progressed to walking with a walking frame without falling, brushed my teeth 8 times whilst standing at the basin and last but not least, fallen madly in love. Obviously, there is more to add to the list, but I reckon that’s enough information for now without me embarrassing myself anymore.

So yeah, about this love business...To be quite honest, I’ve always felt the urge to puke in my mouth whenever it came to the subject of public displays of affection and all that soppy, gooey lovey stuff. It’s just never been my thing. And as far as I have always been concerned, I have always thought that people should spare it for the bedroom. Fair enough, I have been in many relationships in the past, but I have never felt the urge to want to shout it out to the world. Well, ladies and gents, if I had a couch and I could jump, I would give Tom Cruise a run for his money right now. Call me a hypocrite or whatever you like, but I am sooooo in love with theeeee most amazing man (yes, melodratic I know, but stay with me here)and I am not afraid to say it. He is a rare gem whom I absolutely adore. He has the most compassionate, generous heart and a soul which radiates the most exquisite brilliant light. He has taught me countless life lessons and most of all accepts me for who I am, however clichéd that may sound. Many people frequently think of me as this woman of steel, a strong individual who has managed to deal with an exceptional amount of turmoil in life and has it all figured out. Yet, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Sitting on your butt all day doesn’t change a thing. I still have insecurities, fears and sadness which I face every single day of my life. Yes, being a ‘go-tard’ sucks, but at least now I have a hottie holding my hand every step of the way J

I find it utterly amazing how much transition can take place in such a short period of time. Often, I think of how wonderful it is that life is a continual cycle which allows us to experience a path of self renewal. Transitions are as natural as the changing seasons. We may go through an icy cold miserable winter, but when we look again, the ice has melted, the days get warmer and the smell of Spring is in the air.

C'est la vie!

Killer Legs

2010-12-15T01:26:00.000-08:00

I am a lazy blogger...There you go, I said it despite being hard to swallow, I said it nonetheless!

Hmmm... I think I should maybe rephrase that statement.

Ok, I am a very preoccupied little wheelchair person. Yes, a lazy very preoccupied little wheelchair person...that’s it...perfect!

Nevertheless, I’m still alive and although not kicking just as yet, life has been on the up and continues to amaze me each and everyday. My backside still looks amazing (Can you say narcissistic?) regardless of the massive pseudo-G-string, which takes up the most part of my lower back.

Yeah, scars...I know all about them baby. I am practically riddled in them and if you didn’t know my story, you would probably think that I had donated my body for some type of grisly scientific experimentation. Frankenstein has nothing on me. I kid you not.

It’s weird though, because, however ugly the scars seem to be, they do not really bother me. And to be quite honest, I actually like my scars. They are a part of me. A literal representation of who I am. A map of where I have been, the challenges that I have faced and each and every triumph I have met along the way. I guess some people have tattoo’s...I have scars.

How hardcore am I.

hahaha

In any case, this year has been a journey. And although the ride hasn’t at times been the most pleasant of rides, man-oh-man has it been exciting. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought that I could ever attain the happiness and fulfilment I have right now as I ~~march~~ roll ahead knowing that if things can be this good, despite being stuck in a lameass wheelchair, then they sure as hell will definitely be phenomenal without one. Often, I wonder what’s wrong with those people who continually bitch and complain about things which, in fact in the greater scheme of things do not really matter! It actually reminds me of an experience I had in the Ladies bathroom one night. I laugh every time I think about this particular occasion in which I overheard two girls having a discussion in the bathroom of a popular nightclub in Durban.

It went something along the lines of,

“OMG, Laura, like please tell me I look good in this. Seriously, don’t lie to me because like I know that you always tell me I look good when like actually I look horrendous, because you always wanna look better than me hey. Oh my gosh, like look at these thighs in this dress, I look like a frikken elephant. Nobody is ever wanna get with me! Nobody!Tonight is a total disaster! I can’t be seen looking like this; I have an image to maintain! I just wanna cry, my life is over! Carrie, do you like have that uber sexy cherry lipgloss stuff? I love the way it makes my lips pop...bla bla bla”

And so it continued...

All the while, little old me sat crammed in a toilet cubicle with my wheelchair shoved up against my legs, the door ajar, (because you should know that people in wheelchairs are total invalids and never go out and thus, it really isn’t necessary that such facilities should ever be provided in such cool establishments) my legs wide open, dress up, panties down,vajayjay on display in a desperate effort to try insert my catheter (my little penis)in the hope of relieving my alcohol laden bladder! Not a pretty sight I tell you, (unless of course you’re into that sort of thing) but nevertheless, it is something which has to be done no matter how embarrassing the situation. If you got to go, then you got to go!

So, here I was, trying so very hard to concentrate in order not to fall off the toilet seat or pee all over my shoes ,listening to these two airheads whinging about how their world is going to come to an end! Bloody hell, never in all my 25 years have I so desperately wanted to shout some rude sarcastic remark aloud. Yet, I held back and resisted the urge to remind these birdbrains that firstly, they sound like complete and utter fools, secondly that no one gives a damn, thirdly that it really is not the end of the world and lastly, I really would like to pee in peace and quiet. Now that would have been a mouthful, but instead, I bit my lip and kept my mouth shut. After all, there were two of them and only one of me and in reality; I only count as half a person. And besides, from the sounds of things, one of them apparently had thunder thighs could kick start a Boeing 747. I was not willing to take the chance.

I arrived home the next morning and collapsed onto my bed. However, despite being completely intoxicated, I kept thinking about the conversation that I had overheard that evening. The girls’ irritating, whining lingered in my mind and gave me even more of a headache than I already had. Hearing their shrieks playing over and over in my head was really the last thing I wanted to hear before drifting off into Lalaland. In any case, I managed to silence the nightmare inducing voices and I eventually fell asleep, only to wake up and continue contemplating...

The conversation was really so pointless and trivial and yet, it left me completely bewildered.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lK2LIFj7St0 I watched in awe as I witnessed this amazing woman overcome the challenges which she is forced to face every single day of her life. She does not complain about the difficult tasks and accepts every difficulty as a challenge.
Suddenly, I realised why the girls’ remarks had mattered so much to me. These remarks were not the first of their kind. They were simply a representation of how people generally are these days...
We find flaws in ourselves. We find flaws in others. We focus on what we want, instead of what we already have. We do not recognise the abundance around us, nor do we see the splendour of our earth. We always want more and more, misled by the notion that if we have more then we are worth more. Obviously, I am no expert, but from my point of view, this can’t be what life is about. I guess, I am allowed to think in such a manner, considering that once upon a time, I too was one of those girls. I was intelligent and beautiful and yet, it was never enough. Maybe I wasn’t as intelligent as I thought, because had I been, I would have appreciated what lay before my eyes instead of constantly belittling myself and complaining about my body. It is only now that I have learnt to appreciate my body, because after all ,you never really miss something until it’s gone.

I think that if I was to condense every lesson which I have learned this year into only two words, those two words would be “Be thankful” Honestly, if every person on this planet adopted that attitude, the world would be a completely different place,as a huge shift in consciousness would occur.

People don’t realise that if you are truly grateful for what you have, you automatically attract positive results. As we approach 2011, make it your mission statement to be thankful each and every moment, love your life and seize the day! You only have one life to live, so make it the very best!

Have a Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year ;);)

P.S. Thank you for following Getting Legless With Lorna, your support is greatly appreciated!

Spot the difference!

2010-09-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

BuM InSuRaNcE fOr SuRe...

2010-09-18T13:31:00.000-07:00

I am home!

Wow, I thought that the day would never come...but it did and I am honestly over the moon. At one stage though, I thought that the crazy rollercoaster ride which I embarked upon 12weeks ago (crazy, I know) would never come to an end. Seriously people, who the hell spends 3months in hospital?! Suffice to say, I am 100% healthy. Better yet, there is no longer a shark bite on my derriere.

My last blog post documented my stay at Entabeni Hospital whereby the two Debridement procedures occurred, alongside my whinging about that horrendous tube which had been shoved down my throat. However, after 6weeks, I was transferred to Chatsmed Garden Hospital in Chatsworth. It was definitely quite daunting as my last experience in Chatsworth involved one filthy, disorganised curry smelling visit to RK Khan hospital (see http://gettingleglesswithlorna.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html) so I was very apprehensive to see what awaited. ..

My first impression was that this place was not anything near the standard of Entabeni Hospital! No balcony, no DSTV, no awesome food selection, no powerful air conditioning. Jeepers, it made the spoilt brat in me want to cry...and to make matters worse; it was just going to be me enclosed in a tiny room with no windows! The only thing I could do was to make peace with the idea and in doing so, perhaps lessen the chances of going completely insane.

Oh wait, that has already happened.

In any case, I was ecstatic with the fact that I did not have to have that terrible pipe in my nose, so that gave me something for which to be grateful. I must admit though, it was a tad weird being the only pale face in the building, especially when I had people staring at me as if I had a huge turd on my shoulder. Yes, that was awkward and yes, for once I actually did keep my comments to myself. Despite all this, I did manage to meet some amazing people.

I remember my last post mentioned something along the lines of me always managing to be blessed with the most amazing doctors. Well, little did I know that the best was definitely saved for last! I only wish that I had met him sooner. Now, this plastic surgeon is honestly like none other. I truly believe that he is, indeed a freak of nature. Contrary to popular belief, there is such thing as a kind, loving, concerned, interesting, comical, thorough, meticulous friendly surgeon all rolled up into one man. And better yet, he didn’t think that he was a god! Now that, my friends, you will have to admit that this is utterly amazing. Wow, I would never have thought that such a creature existed! In any case, Dr.Pillay made his own personal mission to make sure that I had the best possible care available to me. He even went so far as to give me his mobile number saying that I could call him at 3am if need be... haha I thought, if he actually knew me, he wouldn’t have uttered such ~~stupid~~ brave words!

He went on to explain that the procedure that I was about to undergo was an extremely extensive surgery and could only be completed in two separate operations. The first being another debridement of the sore and the second involving the actual closing of the wound itself. This would entail a complicated procedure called a Rotational surgical flap whereby facia is pulled from either side of the wound bed and closed in the middle. It sounds complicated, but basically my ass received one big “facelift” The only downside of course, would be the next 6weeks thereafter in which I would have to spend lying face down on my stomach. Holy Smackaroos! This really sounded hectic. And to be honest, I didn’t know if I could handle it...but I had to, there was no question about it. I mean come on, seriously, if I could put a bullet in my chest and still manage to survive, so then surely I could do this!

The final operation occurred on Monday 12 July. I woke up to find myself under a huge “cradle” which was placed under the blanket to keep the blanket from touching the surgical site. Although very groggy, I was thrilled that the first part was over. However, I experienced something which I wasn’t accustomed to...that being intense pain all over my back. This was obviously due to the incisions above the area which I couldn’t normally feel. Nonetheless, the little hypochondriac within me was pleased. Ahhh, Morphine, where have you been all my life?

The weeks which followed passed by rather quickly and I reckon that this was mainly due to the fact that firstly, I had an immense amount of Varsity work and assignments to be completed and secondly, I had a wonderful group of people who surrounded me each and every day. I definitely am sticking to my theory that angels work in hospitals albeit in the” Bundus” or in the CBD. I could not believe how kind and caring these people were towards me. One person in particular was my physiotherapist, Karmanee. A beautiful soul, who visited me each and every day and made it her responsibility to make sure that I was doing as well as can be. As an added bonus, she was married to an anaesthetist who was the only person who was able to compromise with my fickle veins and successfully re-site the needle into my arm for the drip everyday.

The nurses were undoubtedly my favourite group of characters. They all were so different to each other and yet every single one of them managed to make me laugh every single day. Julian and Denzel (the male nurses) were two regulars who made a daily appearance and often would “hideout” in my room. They claimed that I was good company, but reckon they just were waiting for the day in which I would ask them to bed bath me...fat chance... There was also another nurse by the name of Dolly who thought it necessary to revamp my wardrobe and so, by the time I was discharged, I had two bags of brand new clothes, jewellery, toys etc. If you name it, I probably got it. I actually started wondering if I give off a certain "spoil - me - I’m - a - poor- little - girl - in- a- wheelchair " vibe!?

The other amazing person I met was a young man by the name of Zwane Zweli who happened to have a pressure sore in exactly the same place as I had. By now, you probably know my little mantra saying that everything happens for a reason...well, I definitely believe that Zwane rolled into that hospital for me! Zwane became paralysed about 7years ago after involvement in a shooting incident. As a result, his spinal cord injury (T12) forced him to become wheelchair bound. However, he did not give up hope and he continued to fight. Three years after his injury, he started getting sensation back in his left leg and not long after that, he became able to move his left leg. His right leg also began to have some feeling return, but not as much as the left leg. Subsequently, he is now able to stand and walk with the aid of crutches. Meeting Zwane was possibly the best thing that has happened to me this year. He gave me so much motivation to get up off my lazy ass and get back into the swing of things. He had obviously been in this position for a much longer time than I had been, but it just showed me that it is possible. Anything is possible actually!

And all those doctors who have told me otherwise, can kiss my (newly renovated) lily white ass!

I had mixed feelings by the time that the day of departure arrived. I was obviously elated with the fact that I was perfectly healthy, I had NO HOLE anymore and basically been given another chance in life. I still cannot believe that such a stupid little thing like a pressure sore could have caused so much mayhem and almost managed to take my life. Yet, on the other hand though, I was a bit sad and apprehensive. I was leaving the hospital after all this time. The place I had known for so many weeks, the friends I had made, the routines, the food (ok, no maybe NOT the food)were all now going to be forgotten...or maybe not.

I don’t think that situations and people that you encounter in your life are meant to be forgotten. They bring with them a different purpose and from that, we learn, we evolve, we grow. I think that each experience that we have on this earth is like a brick and as time passes, we accumulate more bricks until a wonderful piece of architecture is created. We all sometimes wish that we could erase or delete difficult times in our lives, but whether good or bad, pleasant or unpleasant; all of life’s experiences make us who we are. And if we were to erase any one of these experiences, it would be as if you were removing bricks and defiling the greatest structure ever built...

NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED!

2010-06-22T12:57:00.000-07:00

Guess what?

I’m alive!

Yes, it has been quite a while since my last post, but as per usual, there is never a dull moment in the life of Legless Lorna and well, let’s forget the excuses and stop right there. All that I can tell you, is that I now lie in a hospital bed with a pipe in my nose, drip in my arm and a vacuum cleaner attached to a tube leading to my lower back (note that I’ve chosen to use the word ‘back’ instead of my usual ‘ass’)

I bet you are probably wondering what in the world happened? Well, for starters don’t look at me as I’m still trying to figure that one out for myself! One moment I was healthy and in the next, I became as sick as a dog. I really find it amazing how circumstances and situations can change so dramatically over such a short period of time. I’ve heard of life being like a play and I think that that’s quite a good analogy, except that I think mine would be more of a movie of Oscar winning potential.

The last time I checked, I had just started my exams and everything in my life was rolling smoothly. I became completely engrossed in my studies and I loved the fact that the only thing to stress about was the next exam which I had to write. However, during the last week of the exam period, I began to feel extremely lethargic and I found it very difficult to concentrate. My back started aching and I started experiencing waves of nausea. Initially, I thought that it was ‘flu and carried on as per usual, but then when the shaking and shivering turned into fiery hot fevers, I knew there was something very wrong. I couldn’t eat and if I did, I would get sick. I felt dizzy and didn’t have the slightest bit of energy left in my body. All I was capable of doing, was to lie in semi-comatose state on my bed and turn myself every half an hour or so to either puke into my bin or pee into a bowl. Wow, now that really does sound delightful, but in all honesty that was all I could manage to do. Now, I know that I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but it seemed quite obvious to me that that little nuisance of a hole on my behind was causing trouble again.

“Oh well,” I thought, “it is nothing a little bit of antibiotics can’t fix!”

Guess again sucker...

The next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed. Great. My favourite place in the world. Jeepers, you would think that I have done my fair share of time in hospital by now. But that clearly was not to be the case. The diagnosis: Massive fat necrosis with abscess formation and sepsis. In simple terms, it meant that basically I was screwed, unless of course I went in for surgery. I could not believe what I was hearing. Here I thought that it was entirely my fault as to why the pressure sore wasn’t healing, when in fact the abscess was the real culprit! Alright, I shall admit that I am not completely innocent when it comes to pressure care and staying off my backside, but I am a busybody and I find it extremely difficult to sit still, never mind laze in bed all day for weeks on end. If you don’t believe me then you should give it a try, it’s not as great as you would think it to be!

Ok, I’m going to stop whinging now and get back to the story...

I went into theatre the next day and following the 2hour operation, I woke up to find myself in a bed of blood. Apparently, I bled so profusely that I needed 6pints of blood to be transfused immediately. I tried to feel the extent of the damage, but with a massive dressing covering my entire lower back, this proved almost impossible! Nevertheless, all the worries drifted away as I fell into a wonderful, peaceful sleep... compliments of the Pethadine which dripped into my vein. Ahhhhh!

The following day my doctor popped his head into my room for a visit. I must say, that I have really been fortunate when it has come to my selection of surgeons. This time, I was blessed with the aptly named Dr. Wise. And although probably old enough to be my grandfather, it didn’t take too long before I realised what a wonderful, capable doctor he was. In addition to extensive surgical experience, he displayed the most remarkable bed side manner. Now I guess it’s all very well singing someone’s praises, but if that person doesn’t have such great news for you then I suppose it’s only normal to become slightly dismayed. In any case, I was told that I was not going to be returning home anytime soon and that in addition to the debridement of the pressure sore and the drainage of the abscess, a further section of my back was removed. Apparently, I had a ‘camel hump’ of fat which housed bacteria. I had noticed this lump before, but I really thought that was a consequence of sitting on my ass all day. So now, just as I thought that things couldn’t get any worse, I was told that I now have a wound about 6x the size of the original sore. Holy crumballs! Could it get any worse? I suppose that was a bad question...because it did.

My blood results revealed that I was deficient in several nutrients. However the most important finding was that I had a blood serum Albumin level on par with a starving Ethiopian ( Ok, not quite, but close!) I knew that this was quite possible, because I hadn’t been eating properly since I was so ill. A low blood serum Albumin level indicates that insufficient protein is being absorbed by the body. Since protein plays a crucial role in healing and the building of new tissue, it was vital that some sort of nutritional intervention be implemented. Such an intervention came in the form of a tube inserted through my right nostril extending down my throat and into my stomach. The objective being to provide a high protein/calorie formula needed to restore and boost my body’s healing capacity. Theoretically, it sounds like a wonderful strategy; however, practically it wasn’t so great.

A week had passed and the wise old doctor decided that I needed to visit the operating room once again. The prospect of my wound being sutured up sounded fantastic! Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Instead the wound was debrided for a second time, resulting in a massive hole bearing a striking resemblance to a shark bite.

Did I mention anything about things getting worse?

Nevertheless, there is always some good in a bad situation. There is truth in the age old adage that every cloud has a silver lining.

And my silver lining came in the form of the ever -so -lovely Sister Beryl (see ‘Climbing mountains’)who I can confidently say, is by far the most competent wound specialist I know. Accompanying her was my good old friend, the negative pressure machine; only this time it was the KCL brand instead of the Smith and Nephew machine to which I had formerly been introduced. Negative pressure therapy involves a negative pressure system constantly applied to the wound, thus producing a vacuum. In doing so, an environment of positive pressure is created within the wound bed, causing angiogenesis (new blood vessel formation) as well as removing the exudate( the gross looking stuff seeping out of the wound providing a breeding ground for bacteria)The exudate is then extracted and placed in a removable canister. It’s quite a spiffy looking machine although it makes a terrible croaking noise. On one occasion, a nurse rushed into my room and wanted to know what was making such a racquet. I replied that I had a bullfrog in my bag and that he was probably hungry. Needless to say, I haven’t seen her ever since then.

So, this is where I am right now in my life...in hospital waiting for my body to heal. I am disappointed at the fact that my life has been put on hold. I had made such wonderful progress with my walking. My legs were getting stronger and my goal of walking with crutches by July was slowly being realised. However, I have come to the conclusion that we can’t always get what we want. Sometimes we simply get what we need. Nothing lasts forever and although we may encounter bad situations, it is important to remember that things can change from one day to the next. All that we can do is to make the best of every situation, whether good or bad and discover the lesson which life has to offer.

Feed the SoUL

2010-04-20T16:47:00.000-07:00

“ Life is not only about how you’ve responded to the challenges you have dealt with, but also the challenges you seek. If you have no goals or mountains to climb, your soul dies.”

I came across this quote a couple days ago and it has lingered in my thoughts ever since. The notion that we not only thrive on challenges, but they are in fact, essential to our existence, is an intriguing concept. However, what I want to know is this... If our souls require challenges and goals, why is it that some of us elect to choose the most difficult ones, why not go with a few straightforward, easy ones here and there? Surely that will suffice?!

Clearly, I didn’t get the memo when it came to that one! Yet, I think maybe not knowing the answer to such questions is sometimes better. It makes life more exciting and judging from ~~this retard’s~~ my life, that is very true! I mean, if it weren’t so, you wouldn’t be wasting your time reading about a little legless idiot, right?

If anything, the last two weeks have been exhilarating. Dear friends, I am now proud to report that I have now progressed from the humble parallel bars to a walker, (one of those weird looking walking frames which the elderly use) and officially gone from spastic to geriatric. Hell, judging from the speed which I shuffle along, that statement is not too far off. Then again, I really don’t give a damn about the pace at which I move. Progress is progress, and the sooner I chuck that wheelchair, the better (for me and my ass!)Speaking of which, is looking much better, thanks to my very good friend, Fiona, who has been dressing the wound everyday. I really feel sorry for this lady. I don’t think that I’d even like to look at my own ass every single day! Jeepers, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had ~~dreams~~ nightmares about my bum. I think she used to be squeamish, but I figure that’s a thing of the past. I reckon she has probably developed a cast iron stomach, tough enough to take on the grizzliest repugnant challenge (to be honest if it was me doing the nasty, I think my bedroom walls would permanently be covered in a lovely shade of putrid green!)Nevertheless, the crater is getting shallower by the day and although there is a considerable amount of undermining, (deterioration of tissue beneath the skin) the wound on a whole is looking good. I really am looking forward to the day when I can go to the beach and not have to worry about getting sand in my third hole!

So although life has been pretty rosy, I have been subject to the odd down moment here and there. You know those days, when everything just seems like a mission and nothing is going right and all you want to do is run away. Yeah, I have those days. I cry, then throw a tantrum, curse and look down only to realise that my legs don’t work. It comes as a surprise each time. Ah crap, I guess there will be no running for me then!?
Ha-ha, but in any case, that’s exactly the point. My legs don’t work. That’s it...The only actual major difficulty I have in my life right now. Every other problem is minor in comparison. And yet, it’s not that bigger deal. Furthermore, when I look at what I have been able to do and achieve in comparison to other people in wheelchairs, my problems seem so trivial.
I remember the wonderful days of rehab, where I met people who had been affected with numerous neurological disorders and injuries. One person in particular, made an enormous impact on my life. His name was Divan Gerber. Divan had been severely injured in a car accident; resulting in complete Quadriplegia (paralysis from the neck downward) it was heart breaking to see this young, good looking 22year old, trapped in a bed and not being able to do the simplest task for himself. I must admit that initially, I was wary of speaking to him. After all, I hadn’t made peace with the whole retard deal, so how on earth was I going to speak to him. It wasn’t like I could roll up beside his bed and say
“Howzzzit my bru ,how’s it hanging? Check me pop a wheelie!”
Um, no, that definitely wouldn’t be appropriate, unless I purposely wanted him to think I was on drugs. Nevertheless, the day came when I finally plucked up the courage to talk to him. And it was the best choice I ever could have made. Divan and I become good friends. So much so, that all the rehab staff thought that we had a little romance brewing! Ha-ha, can you just imagine it...

” Ah, sorry to bother you Nurse, but could you please be so kind as to put his arm here and my leg there and while you are at it, just insert this here. Ok, that’s great! Good job, now rub here...”

Mmm, maybe not!

I was fortunate to have been placed in a room which I shared with a lady who had had a stroke. She was pleasant and quiet and well, that worked for me. Divan, on the other hand, had been placed in the acute ward, which was unfortunately filled with a bunch of ‘nutters’ These were all relatively old men who had obviously lost their marbles a long time ago. Nonetheless, Divan and I used to laugh uncontrollably at these characters and the theatrical antics which would ensue everyday. Our troupe included ‘Mr Shitsheets’, who refused to use the toilet ,which resulted in him defecating in his bed. And although attempts were made to place a nappy on him, these proved futile, as he consistently ripped the nappy off, whilst the most obscene profanities came from his mouth. I felt particularly sorry for my dear friend as ‘ Mr Shitsheets’ lay right beside him ,while he quietly detonated the most horrendous stink bombs! Argh, that stench made rotting heaps of garbage smell like roses in comparison. HORROR!

Next, was ‘Hef’ a retired professor, who had been left so terribly debilitated by a stroke that he could no longer speak at all. It was soon discovered that, in spite of this, he could definitely make a noise. Now don’t get me wrong, moaning out of pain or discomfort is one thing, but this old man definitely made moaning sound, um, a little strange. I am not lying to you when I say this, but it really sounded like someone had popped their head under his blanket and proceeded to...ok, let’s stop right there! Another peculiar episode included ‘Hef’ spelling out the words “hanky panky” on the word board which was used as a means of communication between him and the doctors. The doctors were incredibly befuddled and didn’t have the slightest idea what he was trying to say to them. In the mean time, Divan and I had construed the biggest lot of BS regarding what we thought he was trying to say...SEX

And last but not least, we had good old Mr. Gerber, who used to notify the entire ward of every hour that had passed. I’m not kidding when I say that he used to literally wake up to make his announcement in Afrikaans saying loudly,“ Dit is nou een uur!”(It is now one o’clock)Mr. Gerber also used to amuse staff and patients alike every Monday, in describing in vivid detail the places he visited on the weekend. It was good that he allowed his mind to travel and his imagination to soar, but the slightly disturbing fact was that he truly believed that he had left his bed and travelled all over South Africa! COMEDY&FANTASY

There were a few other strange men, but the above mentioned grandpas provided the bulk of our amusement. Besides being entertained, Divan and I were there for each other. We used to reminisce about the past, discuss the present and contemplate the future. He also made me realise what I am capable of achieving by virtue of that which I already have achieved. I must admit that, in seeing how fortunate I am, in comparison to Divan with regards to the severity of my paralysis, a strange “SUPERWOMAN” feeling flooded my body as I realised how much I could help these people. It was the first time ever that it became evident to me as to what my purpose is in this life. And all it took was a bullet in my chest to allow that divine purpose to become apparent...

Since meeting Divan and the many others with neurological disorders/diseases, I have made it my life’s mission to:

Firstly, heal myself.

Secondly, to help “normal” people understand and become aware of the issues surrounding disability.

Thirdly, to qualify as a doctor in the field of Neuropsychology

And lastly (most importantly) help as many people with neurological disorders as possible. I want to help such people to realise that quality of life is a personal choice. It’s all about the choices we make, not the chances we take that determine our destiny. Any goal is achievable, whether you are a millionaire, a beggar or a retard, the choice is up to you to make that goal a reality, no matter what the challenge.

“Ever more people today have the means to live, but no meaning to live for.” Victor Frankl

Let’s get retarded...

2010-03-16T16:53:00.000-07:00

YOU ARE WONDERFUL...and that's the first thing I want you to know, but before I go off on a tangent about self love and all that ‘shrinky’ stuff, let’s interject the discussion with something more important. Firstly, I would like everyone to know, that the support that I have received from fellow bloggers and readers alike has been incredible. You will never realise how much I appreciate the feedback. It is ironic that although most claim to be inspired by this Blog, yet I am the one who has received the most inspiration of all...so THANK YOU!
You are wonderful and although you might disagree, know that some random girl in a wheelchair thinks differently...
Ok, so before I bring you to tears with my Oscar speech, let’s not recap what has occurred with regards to finances and from this moment onwards, any mention of Medical Aid, accounts, doctors and the illegal sale of one’s body parts will be deemed as swearing!

I would rather tell you about the progress that has occurred during the course of this week. It’s quite exciting I must say, in that this is the first time since early February, that I have had the opportunity to walk everyday with callipers and parallel bars. The reason being, I have awesome friends who believe in me. They arranged for parallel bars to be put up around the house to enable me to get enough walking practise every single day. You see, I have no physiotherapy sessions as such. It’s just me doing my own therapy. Captain of my own ship I tell you (well, it maybe a broken ship, but it still floats!) So although this has turned into a daily sweaty affair, it is truly the most rewarding feeling knowing what I’ve accomplished. It may not sound like much, but I have been doing a 16 to 20 metre walk everyday (in Durban humidity) I wish I could help you imagine what it’s like, but I honestly can’t. But I can say one thing, it is the most intense, tiring and frustrating exercise I have ever done in my entire life. Despite this, I am proud of myself, knowing that each step is one step closer to my goal.
(This by the way is to be walking with crutches by July. It’s my birthday on the 9th and I know I shall feel the need to chuck that damn wheelchair and give into that irresistible allure of the dance floor. I’m not quite sure about the alcohol though, that could be a fatal combination!)

The crater in my ass is getting smaller too. This morning the measurements were 2cmx4cm...which let me tell you, that on a whole,this is a vast improvement. I put this fact down to the incredible amount of exercise that I’ve been doing. Increased blood flow=increase in oxygen supplying the tissues= healing. This just proves that if you want something done, you have to ultimately get up of your lazy ass and do it yourself.

So, that’s me in a nutshell. However, there is something which has been on my mind for a while now and I think that it’s time to break the barrier. Break loose and speak the unspeakable! Let’s talk about retards baby and by that I am not referring to the clinical definition .You have probably learnt by now, that I refer to myself and fellow wheelchair users as retards. Why? Because I can! No, I’m only joking. However, it is actually just a sarcastic knock at society. You see, since becoming a paraplegic, I have noticed how ‘normal’ folk treat people in wheelchairs. And the most apt description would be ‘like a retard’ Seriously, people think that if you are in a wheelchair, you are brainless, deaf ( I’ve had people practically using sign language to communicate with me) and completely incapable of doing anything for yourself . I find this most amusing considering that I have an above average IQ and yet I get treated like a moron.
This is a generalised statement of course, you do get the odd few people who treat you like a 'normal' person, but the majority don’t. Sadly, it’s a fact.
Hence, the term ‘'Retard’’ It’s nothing derogatory, just pure satire.
This brings me to another question. How much do you know about retards? I mean if you don’t know anyone who is paralysed, what do you actually know?
I am often bombarded with some very strange questions, as people have some weird misconceptions about paralysed people. But don’t despair, Legless Lorna is here to save the day and maybe help enlighten all you non-retards.
Here are the most common questions that I have been asked:

1. Can you have sex?

I have no idea why people (every single person being a male) would want to ask me that. Ok erase what I just said. I do know. They are male and I presume that they are curious. I also speculate that my cleavage doesn’t help the matter either! But the answer is yes, absolutely. Obviously, there are differences but basically it’s all the same. A female paraplegic has the same chances of achieving an orgasm, as a ‘normal’ woman. I’m not going to go into the details of my sex life, but basically, if the guy does it for you, then hell yeah! Why shouldn’t you climax?

2 Can you still fall pregnant?
Yes, stupid. My nervous system is messed up, not my lady bits, damn it!

3. How do you go to the toilet?
This is probably a stupid answer, but I go to the toilet like everyone else. I hop onto the loo and do what I have to do. The correct question would be how do you know that you need to go? Well, most paraplegics have a urine bag or self catheterize every 2hours or so. I am just lucky in that I can feel when my bladder is full. I never used to ,but since training the sphincter of my bladder to remain closed until it becomes full, I can now recognise when to ~~run~~ roll to the loo. I use a little tube which is inserted into the urethra which opens the bladder. So technically, I wee like a man! As an added perk, the "Retard toilets" are always clean, (just ask Gareth Cliff who apparently is a regular user of these facilities)

4 Do you know "so and so"?Now, this must be my favourite question, but how on God’s earth would I know every single paralysed person? People assume that because you’re disabled, (I hate that word) you know the entire South African disabled community. My word! Now this is retarded (used in the usual sense!)

5. Do you sit at home all day?I think that anyone who knows me could probably tell you for sure, that for a paralysed person I get around a lot, (in a non slutty way of course) I am always busy and I never sit still. I go to shops, night clubs, the beach, movies, visit friends and I really don’t see a reason why I can’t. I am still the same girl and just because I am in a wheelchair, it doesn’t mean my life has ended. I refuse to sit at home and mope. Furthermore, I’ve been told that as a retard, I provide good entertainment :)

In all honesty, being in a wheelchair does really ‘suck’ sometimes. I shall openly admit that it is difficult to deal with the fact that society no longer considers you to be ‘normal’ and that you are treated differently. But besides that, what exactly is ’normal’?
Nevertheless, I think that if you accept the situation and look to the resources available to you, you can accomplish anything which you put your mind towards achieving, no matter what anyone else has to say about it.

And that goes for non-retards too!

Climbing mountains

2010-02-26T05:07:00.000-08:00

On the 12 February 2010, an American woman named Erica Davis, made history when she climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. It is estimated that approximately 25 000 people climb Kilimanjaro annually. So what’s the big deal? Well, my friends, she did this entirely in a wheelchair. And she was the first person to ever do so! I find this utterly amazing. Can you possibly imagine pushing yourself up a mountain stretching 19,340 feet above sea level? It seems almost impossible to me, but it’s a true testament to the fact that nothing is impossible, no matter how steep the mountain may be.

The notion that nothing is random and that everything happens for a reason has remained as a permanent fixture in my life. One such occurrence being the story of Erica Davis, which ‘came to me’ at exactly the right time in my life. It was definitely one of life’s signboards in bright bold letters saying, “Pull yourself together Chick, you may have a huge challenge ahead of you and you may be tired and want to give up the fight, but you are half way up the mountain. SO STOP acting like a retard get on with it!!” Undeniably, I needed to hear just that.

In my last blog post, you will recall my elated reaction to the progress that had occurred whilst in hospital. My hole had been fixed and I was once again, upbeat and positive and walking with the parallel bars everyday. But after the second week in hospital, my wound split open. And that was not a good thing. It had taken so much for me to be allowed to have the surgery and now, all that effort had just been flushed down the toilet. I was back to square one and once again left with a gaping hole in my ass. Now what?!What more could I possibly do?

Well, my brilliant Dr.Dumas, suggested a therapy which involves the latest wound repair technology called Negative Pressure Wound therapy. Basically it involves a constant negative pressure applied to the wound 24/7 with the aim of removing the serous exudate (which basically acts as a 5star hotel for microbes)as well as remarkably regenerating tissue by means of angiogenesis(creating new blood vessels) and thus, creating new tissue. The only catch...a permanent pump attached to something resembling a massive blender, containing a ‘not-so-delicious ‘ looking cocktail. But this was the sacrifice which had to be made. The system which I was to use, was the Smith and Nephew Negative pressure system and I found it remarkable how efficient it was, removing the all the excess exudate which had been produced. I was also introduced to the gentle and extremely patient Sister Beryl, who came every third day to change this intricate and specialised dressing. I am willing to bet that this lovely ginger haired lady had no idea what she was in for with me as a patient! After a week, there were no signs of improvement. Ginger lady was not at all impressed. After years in this business, she knew that the vac system was not at fault. She knew there was something more than going bump in the night. After a stern talk, I was put on strict bed rest with no movement at all! Forbidden to go to the toilet! Bye bye physiotherapy...However, as much as I would hate to admit it, this period of convalescence did me the world of good. The hole became shallower and the undermining less obvious. I was so happy...Finally, this damn hole was getting smaller and after a month and 5days I was sent home with my new little friend firmly attached to my ass. I must say that we developed quite a love –hate relationship. I was happy to be “serviced” but oh my goodness did this machine moan and complain. Every movement I made would affect the dressing and my ’tail’ would dislodge. And I am guessing that my bedtime antics didn’t help the matter either. Since jumping out of bed and landing flat on your face whilst you dream that you are an Avatar, when in fact you are a paraplegic, is not the brightest of ideas. So it was no surprise that, on my check up day, Dr.Dumas removed the pump. And now I wait...because I have no idea what to do. I have gone for surgery, been for the Vac therapy and I still have the same problem. The only difference now...I owe R100 000 in Medical bills...since my medical aid has refused to pay any of my bills.
So I have come to the conclusion that the best I can do is to sell my assets...

First up for grabs... A lovely wheelchair, black and beautifully decorated with nice, firm wheels. Only 1 year old! This is a useful device to have, especially on those nights when you simply have had way too much to drink and it’s just easier for someone to push you around. As an added bonus, you will have members of the opposite sex sitting on your lap feeding you free alcohol in exchange for a ride. No more waiting in Entrance or bathroom queues! Tada, Instant celebrity status as well as AWESOME, wonderfully accessible parking space practically anywhere you go. What more could you want?

Next up, a few small items which include a watch, catheter, some clothes, study notes and a fan.

Now, we come to the big boys...First up, my left kidney. Excellent working order and in perfect condition with a GFR above 90mL/min/1.73m2 with no proteinuria. In high demand at the moment, this could cost you $85 000, but if you order today, you will receive a healthy left kidney plus the right one FREE!*
*waiting period applied
Last but not least, a lovely (or so I have been told) pair of legs. In awesome condition, good muscle tone, not much fat. Haven’t been used in a year and you will received them shaved or unshaved, depending on your stated preference.
Haha.
Not a laughing matter .I guess this is a rather peculiar and crazy way of looking at the situation, but look on the bright side at least I will be able to pay my bills...
In all seriousness, I know that something will come through for me. I consider myself to be very lucky to have made it this far on my own (and the help of some very special people) and I know that this is just another difficult part of the mountain terrain. The trick is to not give in, exercising the endurance to continue climbing, no matter how difficult it may seem. And when I finally reach the top, against all odds, I shall realise that the end result, was worth all the tears.

Angels without wings

2010-01-16T12:24:00.000-08:00

It has been approximately 2weeks since I last posted an entry...sorry for the silence...

But, due to unforeseen circumstances, I still lie in my bed like a queen in hospital. It seems that my favourite motto ‘’everything happens for a reason’’, has clearly manifested before my very eyes. I still can’t believe it. They say that angels walk the earth in human disguise...well, I was a cynic before, but after this experience I now believe that that might just be true and ironically, it took a very ugly, gross looking sore on my ass to make me come to such a realisation.

So, I came to Entabeni hospital on the 4 January as scheduled by the surgeon, Dr L. Dumas. Well, little did I know that that wasn’t exactly what was to occur.
As explained in previous posts, my Medical Aid only kicks in February this year and this my friends, was a HUGE TRAINSMASH. The Pressure Sore had turned septic and had been oozing tremendously. Not only was this sore revolting to look at, but the bone had also become visible. It had progressed beyond stage 4 and so, it was crucial that it be surgically debrided before it started affecting me systemically. But, when I got to the hospital, the ex gratia (pass allowing me into hospital) which I had applied for 2weeks ago, had been retracted!
My word! Now what?!? Well, let me tell you that had I not had the support and help of my friend, the doctor and his lovely receptionist, I would probably not be here today. After countless emails, phone calls, scanning photo’s, doctors letters we were eventually allowed some type of “authorisation” allowing me entrance into the hospital. This, ladies and gentlemen, took 6 and a half hours to happen. All just to prove that the wound hadn’t healed spontaneously overnight over the 2weeks...and they tell me that I am ridiculous. This sore developed 7months ago and was not going to disappear overnight for heaven sakes...What the hell? But then again, this was an obvious attempt to prevent any loss to the medical aid. Oh by the way, if you haven’t already guessed, South African Medical Aids’ suck. Money making swindlers who have no compassion for the client (including those who are dying!) A catch 22... If you don’t have a medical aid, you are basically screwed (you really don’t want to land up dying in a dirty public hospital!) If you do have one, well I hope that you have patience...To really understand my angst, watch the documentary “Sicko” by Michael Moore which investigates the American Health care system, focussing on Health insurance and the pharmaceutical industry. You will be appalled...and that’s the USA! I’m sitting in Africa...now that is a scary thought!

I shall now get off the soap box and get back to my story...

I had the surgery the next day. The procedure was quite long and involved a debridement, which is the cleaning and scraping of dead tissue, an osteotomy (whereby a part of the bone is excised) and then a surgical flap is created using the healthy surrounding tissue. Quite a process. It’s just too bad that the doc laughed at me when I smiled at him sweetly and requested some butt implants! Hey, I figured he might as well do something while he was down there to make my non existent bum prettier! However, although my butt implant request was denied, I got something so much better... A beautiful new bum without a having to look into an abyss. Something which I hadn’t had in 7months. Amazing! And so, with that I thought was the end of it. Wham,bam roll outta here ,Mam!

But as always the case with me, things are never that simple.

I had spoken briefly to Dr. Dumas before the surgery. He obviously wanted to know why I was paralysed in the first case, and secondly how did I manage to get a pressure sore. And so, the famous Legless tale was told. To my surprise, I was not subjected to the criticism as expected (considering that legendary ‘God complex ‘which most surgeons seem to have!) but rather a great deal of perception and insight. I guess it helps that I am an honest person and quite frank when it comes to my life. As for the cause of a Stage 4 septic pressure sore...well, let us just say that my rationale was poor indeed! Urgh!

This is where it all began...
The very next day, an Occupational therapist came to see me. Apparently, Dr Dumas had come to see her personally in order to arrange for a consult. This seemed to shock her because he never does the dirty work. He told her all about me and that I was a very special case. So, Biance has been visiting me everyday. This angel even looks like one! A kind, sweet woman who has gone to great lengths to help in any way she can. Whether it is fighting with the Medical Aid, sorting out a proper cushion for my lovely new bum, phoning employment agencies, you name it she has done it. And the best of it all, she arranged to work hand in hand with a Physiotherapist to get me moving again...but this time it’s intense. Parallel bars, callipers and these puny little legs.
But oh wait! How could I forget the best part...Dr Dumas seemed to think that I am not a normal case (yes, I know I’m a fruit cake) but that was not what was implied this time! A T12 injury like mine, has certain characteristics. Judging by the way I wriggle around, it seems that that doesn’t apply to me. So he got a neurologist to come see me. A very serious grey fella who didn’t say much, but examined me thoroughly. The good news was that I have more function than previously thought. My motor abilities are those of a L4 injury, meaning that I have the ability to move my hip muscles. So I guess it wasn’t all in my head...I am healing! The other news is that I have exceptional abdominal strength, but as always, there’s room for improvement!
So everyday, I have seen doctors of every kind (even a psychiatrist who confirmed that I am doing just fine and that I am normal...I didn’t dare ask him what that meant, haha!) as well as people from the Rehab at Entabeni Hospital. Dr Dumas is adamant that intense physiotherapy will get me walking (even if it is with crutches) by the end of the year. His motivation? He doesn’t want to traumatise his eyes with that type of surgery again.
Very funny, old man...

And so, I started walking with the 2metre parallel bars. The first day I managed 10m...but damn, was it difficult. The perspiration dripped off me and yet, I just wanted to do more. Every time I brought a foot forward, it was a struggle. I got a bit frustrated, but once my muscles loosened up and I got my balance, it got somewhat easier. However, I was exhausted and so, I was told to call it a day. Little did I know what would happen the next day. I started all stiff, but once I started, the magic began. I know that it may sound strange, but there was a type mental click of some sort which occurred spontaneously.
Phenomenally, my legs moved forward one by one as I thought about it. They were moving forward,I was sweating less, I could feel my hip muscles pulling and pushing and yes, I did my rock star “WHOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO this is F@%*n AwEsoMe!” Maniac, I know, but I didn’t care. It was amazing! I was doing what I had dreamed about and it was the best feeling on Earth.
So, that is what I have been up to. And besides entertaining the nursing staff with my antics, I have really been transformed in every way possible. I know that I was meant to land up here. Every person I have met has been unique and touched my soul in a particular way. I find it interesting that people open up to me so freely and honestly. I think that one you experience hardship and trauma in your life, it’s easier to share with people having gone through a similar situation. My fire has been lit and my heart has been warmed. It’s amazing how the universe is able to transform such a negative circumstance into something with such positive effects ,no matter how dire the situation...

Take my word ,I had hole the size of the Grand Canyon in my ass...

Gross Anatomy

2009-12-30T05:56:00.000-08:00

As I have mentioned in my previous blog entries, my life is awesome and I have so much to be grateful for. I have wonderful friends, people who care, an active and functioning body, (well the top half at least!) and of course the plus of the affectionately named “Retard parking”  which always makes me air punch.
But sometimes life isn’t that great. You know what you have and you realise how fortunate you are, but the ‘head worms ‘ still squirm and that feeling of dread lingers no matter what you do. Everyone goes through this in some point of their lives. It’s completely normal in this messed up world. I have of course, experienced this before, but since I’ve been in a wheelchair it has ironically occurred less frequently. However, in the past month I have been feeling worse and up until recently I couldn’t understand why that was... I am a firm believer in the mind, body and soul connection. Our body was created as a whole and all three parts should be aligned and balanced to ensure optimum health. This is core belief in all holistic healing traditions. Now reading about it, studying and practising it are all different kettles of fish. And since I am often guilty of not practising what I preach as well as being a retard at times, it took a while before the light bulb appeared!
Now we get to the gross part...

This, my friends, is what we call a Pressure sore. The bane of my life. The painful “ex wife” of my existence at present...Expensive, painful (well I can imagine it to be), giving massive complaints and generally full of shit (literally) and yes, this has been the predominant cause of my despair. I did not even notice that I was literally rotting from the inside out. Now, I guess that you are probably wondering how it got so bad. Well, it started as a small red area on my sacrum about 6months ago and since I am new to this whole paraplegic/wheelchair thing, I didn’t really pay much attention to it. To me, it seemed normal. After all I sit on my ass all day. It stands to reason.duh...and as always, my “I know everything, leave me alone” attitude got me into trouble. Today, ladies and gentlemen, I sit with the Grand Canyon in my ass. A massive hole with has recently become septic. I am going to be going into hospital next week to have it surgically repaired. Fun times. It really drives me insane how this whole ordeal could have been prevented. I can’t make any excuses. And I can’t deny the fact that I don’t look after myself as well as I should. I am still trying to figure out why that is. But anyways, life goes on and I am making a concerted effort to look after this body of mine. It may be broken, but it’s the only one I have.

bULLET WItH BUTTERfLY WinGs.

2009-12-08T12:47:00.000-08:00

Today is the day.
Exactly 1year ago on this very day,the 8th of December,I did something which would change the course of my entire life.I picked up a gun and shot myself in the chest. I would be lying if I told you that I don't think about it,because I do...Every single day...and yes,I often wonder how things could have been different. But,the fact of the matter stays the same in that no matter how much you think about it,the past remains and you can stand on your head and attempt to whistle through your ass, you'll never change what has happened...
I will admit that yes,it's really hard and often I just want to give up.It's easier just to want to disappear.It's easier just to run(haha,that is until the universe takes your legs away!)But those aren't always the best options. Someone once told me that no good thing ever comes easy,no great thing ever came without a fight...And sure enough,that's how it is...the battle started on this day and has continued for a year,but everyday I gain ground,get stronger and continue the fight,knowing that in the end something great lies ahead.

Today (Watch Me Shine)
Yesterday is just a dream I don't rememberTomorrow, still a hope I've yet to endureI'm out of timeI'm out of rhymeI'm out of reasonSeason's change and leave me out in the coldThe story's old.
The tale been told by many a scholar.
Got a fistful of dollar
And pocketful of love
God above if you hear me cryin'
I've tried to sell my soul
But no one's buyin'
Lord, strike me down now if I'm lyin'
Lord strike me down
It's gettin' coldIt's time for dyin'
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
today
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
today
Watch me shine
Then the man was free from sin.
Cast the first stone then began the violence
began the violenceLet the man whose words ring true
Speak on up till his voice breaks through the silence
through the silence
Let the ones who lose their way
Live to see just one more day in the sunshine
Let the one's who choose to stray

Sit in the way and wait for my roads to cross

You nail me down and you watch me bleed watch me

Recognize the price they'll pay
In their lifetime
bleed
So lay my head against the earth
Plant my body like a seed.
You can't always get the things you want
You get what you deserve
Or maybe what you need
So fill my hole with precious dirt,
Till the soil and part the weed

Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine
today
Come on and watch me shine
Like the world is mine today
Watch me shine ...

Whitey Ford

...and yes, I got to see my bum

2009-12-06T11:27:00.000-08:00

So Wednesday was the day,and if there was anytime that i was to admit it,it would be now...I am a maniac...and Ive never realised it..But I bet that if any person lost the ability to walk or even stand and then suddenly one day they could; well you can just imagine that sheer delight.

As you can guess,I finally received my callipers that I have,so patiently been waiting for. So on the 2 December 2009, I stood for the first time in 11 months. WhoHOOOO! I felt like a Rock star standing there between the parallell bars as I shouted “Yeah,Baby this IS f@#king awesome!Ahhhhhhhhh,I love this!WhoHoooo” and with that I had an audience. I don’t think the retards at the home quite knew what was happening and a couple of them came to ask me if I was ok. To see me standing must have been quite mind boggling for them.To them,you see,there is no point in even trying to walk.If you are in a wheelchair,then why make an effort to get out of one.You sit on your ass all day,moan,demand,eat,sleep and ...well,you get the picture!;)
I once overheard one of the residents telling someone,”So this new kid thinks thats she’s going to walk.haha.She should just get on with her life and accept that she’s never going to walk.” I quickly popped my heard around the corner and briefly but explicitly explained that I don’t think that I am going to walk because I am going to walk and furthermore what I do or say is up to me.That quickly put her in her place and she sure as hell was mortified to see me standing on Wednesday.

So I am guessing that you are probably wondering what it felt like? Well,besides being awesome, it was amazing to feel every muscle in body being stretched,from under my arms down my back to the mucles in my abdominal region,down to the pelvic hip extensors and flexors,behind my knees down to my feet. I could feel all the blood rushing to my feet and and a strong throbbing pulse-like sensation in my feet.Wow...I love the fact that I am "not supposed to" have any feeling in my limbs and yet when I stood,the feelings were intensified three fold. The callipers aid in assisting the straightening of my legs because by me sitting in a wheelchair all the time,the muscles contract and thus,cause my legs to buckle when I try stand.The only frustrating thing was that I have absolutely no balance at the moment,so I find myself falling backwards or forwards.I felt like Bambi on ice.However, I had to remind myself that I am not doing the Comrades tomorrow,so there really is no rush. But you know how it is,and I guess that this just is way of the way the universe...Teaching patience the hard way(and trust me to chose this way!)haha.
I shall never forget that day.Now,the next mission is learning to take one step at a time.I am working on it everyday,but I will admit that this is the hardest work I have done in my 23 years of existance on this planet. They say that no good thing comes without a fight and I know how true that is,but damn it’s difficult especially when it involves something so frustrating and it feels like you legs are just behaving like spoilt brats with their own agendas.(I’ve tried talking to them,but I don’t think I’m doing it right,any parenting tips would be grately appreciated!) However,I know that perseverance is the key and as long as I (or anyone else for that matter) have the magic ingredients which consist Faith and perseverance added to a pinch of self belief and a lot of hard work, anything is possible.No matter how great or small the task>the universe responds to the conditions you wish to produce...you have just got to want it badly enough...

When you change the way you look at things,the things you look at change...

2009-11-16T09:49:00.000-08:00

Have you ever really met someone who has just left you with an utter sense of awe? Someone who has soared beyond the world’s expectations and reached new heights? I can count those people on my right hand as they are certainly few and far between (well, in my experience anyways!) But last week, I met a man who I think should count as two fingers on my right hand! He made such an impact and was such an inspiration to me that I am still on a high. Geez, imagine how much money I could have saved. To hell with the anti-depressants! Oh well...Now is better than any time I guess.

David, a middle aged man in his fifties, works with a friend of mine. She had mentioned his name before to me and given me the basic outline of his story. However, I didn’t really take so much notice because when you’re disabled, (I HATE THIS WORD!) people assume that number one, you know who they are talking about, as if you know the entire population of disabled (WHO CREATED THAT WORD???) people and number two, I live with a bunch of retards, so I wasn’t keen to hear about yet another tragic basket case. However, I am glad to say that I was so wrong! I met this guy in the end and it was I who felt like a bigger retard for not meeting him sooner.
Ok, to cut a long story short, David had been shot in his chest and neck which resulted in a C5 injury, leaving him a quadriplegic i.e. Paralysed from the neck downwards and thus, unable to use any of his limbs. His wife had also been shot, but unfortunately she didn’t make it. His son, had been taken by the criminals and left on the side of the road a couple of kilometres from the site of the incident. Nevertheless, David survived and still had the one thing in his life that meant the most to him...his son.
He was placed on a ventilator and remained so, for a couple of months until he decided enough was enough. This wasn’t going to be the end of his life. A month after that he, was taken off the ventilator and he began to work on using his arms. Not too long after that, that he began to feed himself .After a year in hospital, he was sent home,still paralysed from the chest downwards. Then he hit something which everyone hits in some time of their lives. The wall. That feeling of sheer futility. What is the point of living when everything you had is taken away from you?
Then one night, he woke up and realised what it was all about. He had a son and that was worth more than anything else. He had a reason to get on with it. And it was from that moment in time that he decided to screw what the doctors had told him about not walking ever again. He would do it by himself. He knew what he was capable of and no one would stop him. So painstakingly he embarked on a program of rigorous exercise and slowly but surely learnt to stand and eventually in 2years he stood up and walked!

How awesome is that!? Wow! I love it! He knew where he wanted to go and defied everyone. It was so great to not only get ideas, but also compare my progress to the progress he made. Hearing how sensation returned to his limbs and you can imagine how I felt when he described the exact same feelings and tingles which I get in my legs and feet. Now, that deserves a high five.
I must admit that I had become a little despondent before meeting David. The negativity in the nut house had been driving me to do more than drink combined with the fact that I have been so frustrated lately with my progress. Meeting this man inspired me and made me remember that things are how they are for a reason and no amount of frustration, impatience or insanity will change the status quo. Once again, it all boils down to how you look at it. When you think from the end and clearly see your destination, the trip in between is made that much easier...

My little adventure to BOmBay...

2009-11-04T03:45:00.000-08:00

If you do anything good for yourself, make sure it is this...
A MEDICAL AID!!! Especially in South Africa. And no-one knows that better than myself. My little disaster last year landed up costing a fortune well over R200 000 and had it not been for the generosity of friends I would still be paying off that debt. Hell,now that's reason enough to make you want to shoot yourself! But,anyways I have since been put onto a Medical Aid scheme,the only thing is that it kicks in next year. So up to that point in time,it's me and the public health system baby.And let me tell you,she aint that pretty!

So back to my adventure...the purpose of my escapade was to get measured for the callipers which I require in order to stand. These will prevent my legs from bending at the knee when I stand at the parallel bars.Standing is so important for good circulation,digestion,nervous function,muscles etc.so it is vital that I get these little contraptions asap.The faster I stand,the faster I can walk,then run haha,let's not push it hey!
So RK Khan was the place to be and being the only little white female in a wheelchair,I definitely felt a bit spare.However,I put on my happy face and proceeded into the filthiest place you have ever seen, (I decided then and there that a bath would be the first thing I did when I got home)Luckily,for me I bumped into a man who recognised me from my last visit.And apparently,since I have lovely dimples,he took me straight to where I needed to be.Whohoo! I love that when it happens.No queues or sharing germs with the masses. However,I did manage to wait for the technician for over 2hours. He measured my legs and did the whole procedure and gave me some lovely news...I'll be standing by Christmas.

I think a positive attitude definitely has more impact on our life as a whole than we think. I honestly think that had I not decided that I was going to just take everything as it came and make the best of it,(laughing to myself about a hospital smelling of fish and curry!)things would not have turned out as well as they did.
The universe gives back that which you give...and even if it's a chuckle here and there and a smile on your face,you are bound to get a some result.

Getting Legless with Lorna

2009-11-02T05:19:00.000-08:00

My name is Lorna de Reuck and as of 8 December 2008, I have been in a wheelchair. I am a paraplegic, which means that I cannot use my legs and basically have no nerve function from my hips downwards. This has been a life changing experience and definitely a huge challenge. Relearning to do basic things has been frustrating at times, but luckily, I guess, that I am innately stubborn. But that’s enough about that...So here’s a little bit of background...
My journey began when I pulled the trigger at an attempt to save the world of the blight of Lorna. Needless to say, despite being an anatomy student, my aim was a little short, (and since I am blonde) I got it all wrong. So being a dumbass for missing (and not thinking!)I have the honour of sitting on my backside for the rest of my days. (Well, actually for as long as I like!)Since December, I was fortunate enough to be sent to one of the best Rehabilitation clinics in the country, as part of an agreement between QASA (quad/paraplegic Association of South Africa) and the Clinic, and that certainly was a huge boost in my life. It really takes special people to work in such a place and I saw that first hand. After the whole rehab experience I came back to Durban where I had been living and studying for the past 2 years. It was a real change coming back with nothing to stand on as I had to find my feet all over again, having to look for a job and a place to stay. Eventually, I found a place. Ok...well a home for people in wheelchairs. It is actually ideal as it is perfectly wheelchair friendly and basically there are always people to help etc. The only problem is (with all due respect) that this place is full of retards! But seriously, I am a 23 year old girl who had been studying at university and understandably accustomed to a reasonable amount of intellectual and the occasional stoner conversation, but this is beyond anything you or I could have ever imagined. Fair enough, these people are disabled most having cerebral palsy and others having the same physical disability as myself, but that means jack. I believe that life is what you make of it. I still lead a normal life. I party (maybe even harder than before!) go to the beach, go to movies, go shopping, kiss boys etc... basically, I just get on with it. And if I have to battle, I just adapt...So I am living in this place and I am surviving, the only thing is that the place is full of moaners, crazies and those who are a combination of the two. Whoa now I’m starting to sound like them. But this is how it is for the moment and yes, life may be crazy but it makes life interesting and this is the purpose of this blog.
Welcome to my world. The world of Legless Lorna.