quality of life – Page 2 – Disability & Lifestyle Blog

I Caught Covid

For the past three weeks, I’ve been battling Covid, having tested positive on 27th October. I was, in fact, due to receive my booster jab the following day. Bloody typical! Despite being double vaccinated, the virus hit me hard, really hard.

Physically disabled from birth, I’m one of the many considered ‘clinically extremely vulnerable’.

My condition, Ullrich congenital muscular dystrophy, is rare, progressive and affects lung function. This is made worse by a spine that’s as crooked as a question mark and a squashed torso.

I’ve always been a “sickly kid”, susceptible to respiratory viruses, which become more and more difficult to overcome, the older I get.

Throughout my 32 years, a considerable amount of time has been spent in hospital. I’ve endured several bouts of pneumonia, pleurisy and a collapsed lung. Furthermore, my immune system is very much suppressed and affected by at least 15 surgeries under general anaesthetic – I stopped counting after a while.

It’s fair to say, my fragile, little body has taken a battering. And I am tired.

These days, it takes at least a month before I even begin to improve. Life quite literally comes to a stop. Once symptomatic, I become dependent on my BiPap ventilator 24/7. I go from bed, to chair, to bathroom. And that is how I exist. Time becomes meaningless and the days merge into one.

~ I’m not including photos of myself whilst ill because, well, I don’t want to. I don’t have the energy or interest for selfies, and, I don’t want pity. I don’t allow anyone other than my parents to see me in this state, it’s simply personal choice. ~

Few people really empathise and grasp the seriousness of the situation, which I totally appreciate. It’s difficult to comprehend something you haven’t seen or experienced for yourself. Admittedly, 20 year-old me wouldn’t understand either.

Life back then was very different. I was a night owl, regularly staying up until 4am and feeling fine the next day. I completed a coursework focused university degree, spending some days on campus from 9am – 9pm, followed by a 40 minute drive home. Though never a party girl, I did my fair share of drinking and socialising. Trips away with friends involving going out all day and every night, then clambering back to the hotel in the early hours just didn’t affect me. I had the energy and ability to do the things I wanted to do, and it was fun.

These days, it takes everything I have to get out of bed (assisted by carers) and shower.

It’s not the life I wanted or hoped for. But it’s all I have to work with. And yes, it does affect my mood, attitude, point of view and relationships.

A LOT of my time is spent resting. Of course, I would much rather be out, exploring, experiencing, making memories, living it up, and doing fun, daring, exciting activities. But I simply can’t.

Though I try to hide the severity of my condition, a select few people, whom I trust and am closest to, know how much I struggle.

I only told four people about my Covid diagnosis. Mainly because, well, it isn’t the happiest subject, is it! And right now, all of my resources are focused on recovery.

Inevitably, word gets around, and neighbours as well as family friends are also now aware. And they’ve been absolutely incredible.

To the people who expressed genuine concern, care and support – thank you so very much! You know who you are, and I value each and every one of you.

The generous gifts, cards and daily messages have been a huge comfort. I’ve even received medical supplies, vitamins and immune boosting supplements from friends! Real friends who step-up when life is pretty shitty.

Knowing that people care is worth more than anything in life.

To close this rather rambly and inarticulate post, I want to pay the biggest tribute to my parents, particularly my mum, who has patiently cared for me throughout, and not left my side. It’s not only my life that’s been put on hold by Covid, but theirs too.

For those who don’t know, I still live with my parents, in their home. It’s far from ideal and we do butt heads from time to time. But the love and loyalty is unconditional.

My mum is 67, suffers from arthritis, and, four years ago, underwent knee replacement surgery. She’s lead an incredibly challenging life, which I won’t go into. She is an UNPAID carer. She does not receive a single penny to care for me, and yet, she does it without question or complaint.

To whoever is reading this, please acknowledge the country’s thousands of unseen, undervalued, unpaid carers. Let’s raise awareness of the situation and show them some care, support and gratitude!

Those who work regular 9-5 jobs get to come home at the end of the day and relax. For family carers, the work never ends. It is relentless, grueling, and it impacts their lives as well as their mental and physical health.

Something has to change!

Muscular Dystrophy & Mental Health | Personal Strategies

My previous blog post touched on the topic of mental health and physical disability.

In response, a few people asked how I manage my mental health:

What exacerbates it, and what strategies I use to alleviate the symptoms ~

Although I dislike using the term ‘depression’ in reference to myself, it is something I suffer from, as, I believe, we all do to some degree and at some stage in our lives.

My bouts of depression are very much situational ~

I am a 32 year-old woman with a rare, progressive form of congenital muscular dystrophy. I am a non-ambulatory powered wheelchair-user, and I currently live with my parents in their home (not through choice).

How Depression Affects Me:

I withdraw, avoid social interaction, lose interest, lack motivation, procrastinate, overthink, overreact, become defensive, eat less, lose weight, neglect myself, don’t care what I wear or how I look, mood swings, sleep more, insomnia, chronic fatigue.

*DISCLAIMER: The information here is based solely on my personal experiences and circumstances. I am NOT in any way seeking to provide medical advice or instruction.

What I Do Find Helpful:

Saying no: As hard as this can be, it is sometimes essential for both my physical and mental health. It’s also important for me to acknowledge that I am not responsible for how others react. If I’m unable to attend an event or social gathering and others take this personally, that’s ultimately their issue, not mine.
Being selective about who I spend my time with: Age and life experience has made me review and evaluate the people in my life – who adds value and who doesn’t. Who are the “no matter what” friends? It may sound harsh, but I’ve learned it’s not only okay, but necessary to distance myself from certain people. It’s easy to find friends when you’re young, fit, healthy and carefree. But when times are REALLY tough, that is when you realise who and what matters most.
Listening to music (through earphones): A form of escapism, allowing me to block out the rest of the world and any unwanted distractions.
Getting out of the house: It can be anywhere, doing anything or nothing. Sometimes I just sit by the river and stare. Other times I like to venture out in the car, though for me, this means relying on someone to drive me around.
Express: Sometimes I lock myself away and cry, other times I sit all day in total silence. I would say, do what you need to; scream, shout, talk it through. Whatever works for you.
Do what you love: However small or insignificant it may seem, I try to do something, every day, just for me. It could be as simple as listening to my favourite song on repeat, writing, sketching, reading, watching TV or YouTube.
Self care: When I’m feeling low and I can’t be arsed with skin care, presentable attire or brushing my hair, I just spray myself, liberally, with my most expensive perfume. Granted, I’ll still feel like crap, but at least I smell great. It’s a small comfort requiring no effort.

What I Don’t Find Helpful:

Unsolicited advice: Superficial comments such as, “stay positive”, “get better soon”, “it could be worse”, and, “take some multivitamins” – This is neither helpful nor constructive.
Talking when not ready: We are often encouraged to talk and share our troubles. And, while I totally agree that it is ‘good to talk’, and we shouldn’t feel like we have to keep our thoughts, feelings and concerns to ourselves, I also think it should be on our terms. We are all different. Some people find great comfort in talking, while others don’t. I, personally, am the latter.

Muscular Dystrophy & Mental Health

Sunday 10th October 2021 ~ World Mental Health Day

It’s now officially autumn in the UK, and so the days are becoming shorter, cooler and darker.

For many of us, the cold weather and lack of sunlight negatively affects our mood (Seasonal Affective Disorder).

This impacts some people much more than others, and of course, it is only one factor that contributes to the state of our mental health.

I believe we all experience some level and form of depression throughout our lives, and for very different reasons.

We’re advised to explore the outdoors, take walks in nature, and get regular physical exercise to improve cognitive function and release endorphins . But for those of us with physical disabilities, this isn’t always possible.

As a powered wheelchair-user with congenital muscular dystrophy, I can’t go running, walking, swimming, cycling or to the gym.

Though essential, my physiotherapy sessions came to an abrupt stop, many years ago, at the age of 14. Accessing services as a physically disabled adult is beyond challenging!

Furthermore, some with disabilities, impaired immunity and chronic illnesses are continuing to shield, and therefore cannot safely access the outdoors.

Some are completely isolated, don’t have a garden and cannot drive. Others are suffocated by the constant presence of carers and those they live with, unable to escape the confines of home.

It’s surprising how lonely you can feel in a crowded room.

So, what do WE do? How can WE support and improve our mental health?

There is no straightforward answer, (sorry about that!), as we’re all different, and facing our own battles.

I, personally, get very frustrated with life, my limitations, the lack of assistance, understanding and empathy. It does often feel like physically disabled people are disregarded from society and forgotten about.

But we feel, we need, we want, we deserve, we matter.

What Would You Do If You Could Walk?

I lost the ability to walk 22 years ago, at the age of 1o. For me, becoming completely non-ambulant happened quite unexpectedly, over the space of a couple of weeks.

Back then, there was little to no guidance or support. I didn’t have a full diagnosis and my rather nonchalant paediatric consultant wasn’t the best!

We didn’t have the Internet or social media to research and connect with others living with muscular dystrophy. And, until I reached adulthood, I didn’t know of anyone else with the same condition.

It was difficult enough leaving behind my group of primary school friends and moving on to a different middle school. I felt very lonely and was struggling to integrate, when came the added pressure of immobility.

Attending mainstream school, I was the only one with a disability amongst hundreds of physically fit, healthy, happy kids. My family and I were very much in the dark and going it alone.

Prior to this, I could only ever walk short distances – around school and home, but never steps or stairs. Then, at age 10, I suddenly found myself unable to stay on my feet, constantly covered in cuts and bruises from falling, and I didn’t know why.

Me, aged 5, in my primary school uniform

I was referred to a counsellor, but met with them no more than 3 times, as I found it utterly pointless. How was talking with a complete stranger holding a clipboard going to help me? I couldn’t walk anymore and that was that. Get on with it, Carrie.

Yes, I was stubborn and sceptical even as a child!

People often ask me if I miss it – walking. In all honesty, I tend to fob them off with a half-hearted response; “nah, not really. Moving on…”

But the truth is, my life could and would be so very different if I could walk.

I recently asked my fellow wheelies, on Instagram, what they would do if they were able to walk…

Some of these answers really made me laugh, while others are more thought-provoking.

What would I do? Run! You wouldn’t see me for dust, mate!

Muscular Dystrophy | Life with Carers

Living with a physical disability, as I do, often means dealing with carers. Believe me, this is not a lifestyle choice! It is a necessity.

I’m a very private person who enjoys their own company, hates relying on others, and I cannot do small talk to save my life!

The last thing I want is to do each morning is slap on a happy face and engage in polite conversation with carers, as I’m still half asleep and reluctant to leave my comfy bed.

Some days, it takes everything I have to not call out, “would you kindly buggar off and let me be!”.

Not that I’m ungrateful for the support they provide (no, really). Without them, I would quite literally be stuck – unable to get in or out of bed. They enable me to live my life.

Of course, this isn’t without issue.

I employ my own part-time carers, funded by Direct Payments. Consequently, I am responsible for hiring, firing, training, insuring, managing and paying my employees. This can, at times, be somewhat testing.

I never wanted to be an employer, in any capacity. But as previously stated, this isn’t a lifestyle choice. I NEED carers. Agencies are, well, far from ideal. And so, this is my only option.

As with most things in life, carers come and go. Some leave after a few months, while others stick around for years. Either way, the process of finding new employees, who are both capable and reliable, is always stressful.

Imagine, if you will, routinely inviting strangers into your home, to observe you in your most vulnerable state – first thing in the morning; naked, dribbly, grouchy, with whiffy armpits, stubbly legs and a head of hair like Tina Turner’s!

A black and white image of Tina Turner, with big hair — Tina Turner

Sadly, I don’t look quite as graceful as Cinderella on waking!

Disney's Cinderella waking up

You then have to instruct, explain and demonstrate your personal care routine, entrusting your safety to this stranger.

Sounds fun, huh!?

It’s not. At all. And I loathe it. But this is an essential part of my life with a physical disability.

It is, therefore, all the more reassuring when someone comes along who instantly puts you at ease, makes you laugh, talks (but doesn’t babble), and actually wants to work. This isn’t easy to find!

It’s early days with my latest newbie, but after a somewhat turbulent couple of months (care-wise), it is a huge relief.

Always nice to close on a positive note, eh folks.

Riding the Wave | Lockdown Perspective

Disability Lifestyle & Lockdown

I was born with a rare, progressive form of muscular dystrophy. Besides being a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user, my condition comes with many other complications.

For me, being stuck at home for prolonged periods of time, due to chronic illness, is the norm. Hospital admissions, operations, cancelling plans and missing out on events and opportunities is a way of life.

Over the years, many birthdays, holidays and celebratory occasions have been lost to my condition. Whole months have been wiped out to repeated bouts of pneumonia, pleurisy and pneumothorax.

~ This is the case for thousands of disabled and chronically ill people throughout the UK! ~

I know what it is to struggle, to feel trapped, isolated and helpless. Such an existence really puts life into perspective and opens your eyes to what is truly important.

Attitudes to Lockdown Restrictions

Since lockdown began, I’ve seen and heard many petty complaints from ignorant individuals, which I find incredibly frustrating.

People whining about being unable to go out partying or bar hopping to get pissed.

To those self-absorbed cretins ~ GET OVER YOURSELVES!

Despite warnings, many continue to flout the rules, refuse to wear face masks and generally take life for granted, with little regard for the wellbeing of others. Some naively appear to think they’re invincible.

Trust me, it’s a hell of a lot easier to breathe through a protective face covering than a ventilator!

So please, have a little care and consideration. Protect yourself and others.

Abide!

My Perspective

During lockdown, I can honestly say I did not miss going to pubs, restaurants, cinemas, shops or salons. To me, these are life’s luxuries.

Yes, we all need that escapism and we all enjoy going out and socialising, myself included.

But, when the time comes to look back on my life, I’m pretty certain I won’t be thinking, “damn, I wish I’d done more pubbing and clubbing”.

The one thing I REALLY missed during lockdown was quality time and physical contact with my family and closest friends. Being able to sit with them, touch them, hug them and talk face-to-face.

~ It really isn’t what you do, it’s who you do it with. ~

Making Memories | Happy Days

Parks, Play, Pee and a Powered Chair

One of my most cherished days of the last six months was spent with my brother and little nephew.

The bro and I walked/wheeled to the local nursery to collect the kid, who had apparently been chilling with real lions and tigers – “ROAR”

I’m not convinced.

We all walked home via the park, where we fussed some friendly doggies, played hide and seek, oh, and the kid peed up a tree!

As the boys ran ahead, my powered wheelchair stopped abruptly in the middle of the park, and wouldn’t budge. Crap!

With no obvious reason for the breakdown, bro did the sensible thing and gave my chair a damn good shake and a whack!

While all this was going on, little man, totally unfazed, called out, “Cazzy, I got a stick!”

I appreciate this isn’t everyone’s idea of a good time. But for me, laughing, talking and having fun in the sun with those I love is what I value most in life. The simple pleasures.

By the way, I’m no longer stranded in the middle of the park. We managed to kick-start my rebellious chair and make it home, where many more giggles and games took place.

Thank frig I was with my boys!

Decisions & Difficult Discussions

As a powerchair-user with congenital muscular dystrophy, I am at high-risk of developing serious complications should I contract Coronavirus.

So, I’m kinda hoping I don’t!

As much as I love them and couldn’t be without them, my folks have adopted a rather casual attitude towards the whole situation, disregarding it as, “just one of those things”.

I won’t sugar-coat, there have been arguments and tears of frustration. It’s pretty tense and stressful in our house at the moment, as I’m sure it is for many.

My big bro called the ‘rents a few times to enforce the importance of social distancing. It is comforting to have some back-up, especially coming from my great defender!

Sometimes, I do feel like I’m banging my head against a brick wall.

It was only on Saturday night that my Mom announced, “I’ve never known anything like this in my lifetime”.

It really was a light-bulb moment! The seriousness of the current situation seemed to finally hit home.

My brother is a teacher, his wife a business woman, and my two year-old nephew, who I see every week, attends nursery. They are therefore in contact with many different people on a daily basis.

Naturally, this lead to discussions about what we do going forward. He basically told me, “it’s your call!”.

Now, I’m not remotely materialistic and am somewhat an introvert. Missing out on holidays, going to the cinema, to restaurants, pubs and shops doesn’t particularly bother me. It isn’t forever.

All that really matters to me is the people I love – soppy cow! To be without them really is a killer!

It’s a case of weighing up the risks, being safe and sensible but also not denying ourselves life itself.

So, this week, instead of having my gorgeous nephew at home with us, we’re going for a woodland walk. We will be enjoying each other’s company, while keeping a “safe” physical distance.

My black Labrador walking down a country lane

It will, no doubt, be a challenge with an affectionate little boy who doesn’t understand what’s going on (and, thank feck he doesn’t!).

But, at the end of the day, it is what it is. We’ve all got to make do and get on with it, in the best way possible.

Lifts/Elevators | Wheelchair Life

Image Description: A wheelchair-user is seen facing a lift/elevator full of able-bodied people. Caption reads, "to you it's the easy way. To him, it's the only way". — Image Description: A wheelchair-user is seen facing a lift/elevator full of able-bodied people. Caption reads, “to you it’s the easy way. To him, it’s the only way”.

As a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user for the past two decades, I’ve experienced many frustrating encounters with lifts/elevators.

~ Being unable to fit inside because they’re occupied by physically fit (lazy, ignorant) able-bodied people

~ Getting stuck in them (once on a very old ferry!)

~ Getting stuck out of them (broken/out of service)

~ Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Image Description: Closed lift/elevator doors with a sign above displaying the words, "lift not in service" — Image Description: Closed lift/elevator doors with a sign above displaying the words, “lift not in service”

As a teenager, I went shopping to my local TJ Hughes store (super cool!), which was on three floors. It was a crappy old lift but nevertheless I travelled to the top floor because, well, I wanted to!

When I came to use the lift again, it wouldn’t work – it was completely unresponsive.

Unable to walk at all, I was stranded on the third floor in my manual wheelchair.

More than a little irritated, I started hammering the call button on this lift, “you WILL bloody work!!”
It didn’t.

Image Description: 'No Entry' barriers surrounding an out of service lift/elevator. A repair man is trying to fix the lift. — Image Description: ‘No Entry’ barriers surrounding an out of service lift/elevator. A repair man is trying to fix the lift.

At this point, I was left with no other option than to be manually carried down two flights of stairs by a member of staff. Talk about awkward!

Well, it was either that or, frankly, I’d probably still be stuck there now.

Thankfully, I’m teeny tiny, my wheelchair was lightweight and foldable, and the guy who carried me was young and smelt amazing! I was tempted to ask what he was wearing but thought better of it. I’m not that weird…

It was fortunate that I wasn’t in my current powered wheelchair. If I had been, I honestly don’t know what would have happened…forever stranded in TJ Hughes!

It’s a memory that’s imprinted on my mind. It shouldn’t have happened, it was annoying, undignified, embarrassing and yes, at the time, I was thoroughly pissed off!

Although, on reflection, it is pretty funny. Got to laugh, right!

Of course, it made me wary of using lifts in the future. But I really don’t have a choice! I’m not going to avoid them and miss out just in case something bad happens.

It’s inconvenient at the time but always resolvable.

IF I do ever get stuck again, well, then I’ll worry about it…IF.

Side note ~ If you are fit and able, and have two fully-functioning legs, please use them! Kindly take the stairs and let those in need access the lifts/elevators. Ta muchly!

Tag: quality of life