Very few people know that I used to mentor and teach art to primary school children.
I’ve always found it easy to interact with kids. They say it how they see it – no agenda, no bullshit. And I have a very low tolerance for bullshit!
I’d happily take on a room full of kids over a room full of adults, any day!
I mentored one particular lad for about 18 months. He had just turned 8 when I first met him. He came from a deprived area, one of four siblings, his dad was in prison and his mum…well, let’s just say she wasn’t as conscientious as she should or could have been.
Later down the line, his 12 year-old sister accused one of the younger male teachers of indecent assault. Blimey, I remember that day vividly!
The lad, (let’s call him Bob!), was a lovely kid – really polite, always happy to see me (nice to be appreciated, eh).
Bob really struggled with reading and writing. To begin with, he refused to even try. All he wanted to do was play games. Time for negotiation – reading first, then we play games. He would often look up at me to read out the longer words for him. No mate, give it a try first. Break it down and work it out.
Admittedly, the school books were pretty crap, so I bought some more interesting ones to motivate him. He liked dinosaurs and pirates so that’s what we mostly read about.
I had studied art at university and he soon noticed that I could draw. So from then on, every session – “draw me a dinosaur!”, “draw me a pirate!”
Flipping heck, kid! How about you draw me a dinosaur!
In all honesty, I didn’t mind. It was nice to see him enthusiastic about something.
Despite my very obvious disability, in all that time, Bob never once questioned it – not that I would have minded if he did. From the get-go, I was just Caz the mentor.
He questioned everything else, mind you!!
~ How old are you?
~ What do you do?
~ Are you married?
~ Do you have kids?
~ Why not?
~ Where do you live?
~ Who do you live with?
~ Can I see your ID? (Yes, I showed him my ID to which he responded, “THAT’S NOT YOU!”)
~ What’s your real hair colour?
~ Can you dye your hair so I can see it, please??
But there are also times when my patience is wearing thin. Some days, I’m just not in the mood!
Today is one of those days.
I attended a routine hospital appointment and parked my Motability WAV in a disabled bay, with my blue badge clearly displayed, as usual.
As I reversed out of the WAV, I heard a woman stood directly behind me shouting, “I’m just having a nosey inside!”
*Cue eye-roll* Oh, feck off, lady!
I then waited in a small room crammed full of virally infested patients for well over an hour, only to be told the nurse I was due to see went home sick hours before. Which begs the question – why not inform me of this on arrival?!
I waited a further half an hour to be seen by another nurse. At least it wasn’t a wasted journey, I guess.
Having returned to my car, I was ever-so-slightly pissed off to find a parking ticket!
As soon as I got home, I logged-on to check out the meaning of this fuckery. As I suspected – no reason for issue, no explanation and no photo evidence.
Needless to say, I wrote a strongly worded appeal. Under no circumstances will I be paying this unjustified “parking charge”. No, just no!
Shortly after, I received a phone call from the CHC (Continuing Healthcare) department who claimed to have made a personal care payment back in the summer. They didn’t.
I won’t go into details (it’s a long story!) But my battle with Continuing Healthcare has been a lengthy and stressful one, with absolutely no benefit.
Okay, putting things into perspective, this isn’t the end of the world! I’m now sat watching cartoons with my beaut of a nephew. So it aint all bad!
I have just turned 31 (sooo old!) and, in order to live my life, I require support from personal carers.
Today, I (well, actually my mother) received the following letter…
Now, don’t you just love it when so-called “professionals” invite themselves to your home to drink your tea and eat your biscuits at a time and date to suit them?
How about…NO!
It seems the assumption is that disabled folk just sit at home all day, idly twiddling their thumbs ~ Nah, mate.
Not only that, they failed to inform me and instead wrote to my mother! WTF?!
I know I’m child-sized but I am in fact a fully-functioning adult who manages all aspects of her own care needs.
~ My disability!
~ My carers!
~ My business!
~ My life!!
I wouldn’t mind so much, only I’ve spent months jumping through hoops (not literally, obviously) and answering the most inane questions in order to qualify for NHS CHC (a continuing healthcare package – to pay personal care assistants).
*FYI ~ I am currently in receipt of Direct Payments, enabling me to employ and pay my own carers*
As yet, I haven’t received a penny via CHC, though I did get a call to say an initial payment was made during the summer. Nope, sorry, no it has not!
(Little tip for you ~ when it comes to NHS/council funded care, QUESTION EVERYTHING!)
~ joint contractures, scoliosis, progressive weakness, inability to weight-bear and respiratory decline ~
Inevitably, there is an additional impact on my mental health.
For the most part, I am upbeat and stay as active as possible. But admittedly, recurrent chest infections often get the better of me. It can feel like you’re fighting a losing battle, and frankly, it is bloody hard to remain optimistic when life is completely put on hold for months at a time, during which I’m unable to leave the house.
The considerable down-time makes forward-planning almost impossible. Over the years, I’ve missed out on many events and cancelled numerous birthday celebrations due to ill health. It is difficult to commit to social arrangements and accept invitations for fear of letting people down, which then leads to guilt.
When ill, I may…
• Have to cancel plans
• Not respond to calls or messages right away
• Be unsociable
• Be impatient
• Not want to talk
• Be unable to focus or maintain attention
• Spend a considerable amount of time resting and/or sleeping
• Lack motivation
• Be unproductive
• Feel pessimistic, frustrated and emotionally exhausted
• Feel isolated yet unable to see anyone
When I’m ill, I am out of action for a month, sometimes longer. The days are long, tiring, monotonous and utterly unproductive. It is easy to succumb to despair, so for me it is essential to establish a focus and a purpose.
Mental Wellness…
• Rearrange any cancelled plans
• Don’t shut people out
• Accept support from loved ones
• Pet therapy ~ a cuddle from your beloved pet can work wonders!
• If possible, go outside, look up at the sky
• Give yourself a daily reminder of at least 3 positive things in your life
• Say out loud, “I will get through this”, “I will get better”, “I won’t be defeated”
• Don’t overexert yourself. Allow yourself the time and space you need to rest and recover
Life is a gift, but it can also be a bit shit sometimes! Always remember, you are stronger than your struggles. 💪
A Life Update | Muscular Dystrophy & Chest Infections
Once again, I’m out of action with a chest infection. Although unpleasant, this isn’t generally a concern for the average person. But for those like me who live with a neuromuscular condition (in my case, UCMD, a rare muscle-wasting disease) a chest infection is not to be taken lightly. It can develop scarily quickly and lead to more serious complications such as life-threatening pneumonia.
I have always struggled with chest infections. Every time I catch a common cold, it heads straight to my chest. As a child this necessitated a course of banana medicine (Amoxicillin), chest physio and a week off school (okay, so it wasn’t all bad).
As I have aged and my condition has deteriorated, I now find chest infections much more difficult to cope with. It can take me a month, sometimes longer to get back to any sort or normal. In the meantime, life comes to a complete standstill.
Due to the severity of my impaired lung function, I struggle to cough effectively and clear secretions, making the seemingly simple act of breathing incredibly difficult. As a result, I become totally reliant on my BiPAP machine, and find removing it for a mere 10 minutes a major challenge.
BiPAP machine ~ noninvasive ventilation
When I feel myself getting ill, I throw everything at it:
• Antibiotics
• Steroids
• Expectorants
• Nebuliser
• Respiratory physio
• Rest
• Stay hydrated and eat as much as possible for energy and sustenance
• BiPAP to support breathing
But in the end, for me, it really is a case of waiting it out and remaining as positive and defiant as possible.
Obviously, this is just my personal experience. There are many forms of muscular dystrophy, and each individual reacts and responds differently to respiratory illness. But one thing is true for all of us –
chest infections are no laughing matter!
You may often see members of the NMD community banging on about infection control and the importance of the Flu jab, and with good reason! For us, this really is a matter of life or death.
I think most people living with a chronic illness, disability or mental health issue can relate to this quote, at least to some extent. I know I do.
I am limited by my physical disability (congenital muscular dystrophy), despite the claims by some that you can do anything if you just try hard enough. As a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user with a muscle-wasting condition, I’m afraid there are certain things I cannot do.
I am heavily reliant on others to carry out daily activities such as cooking, cleaning, locking doors, opening and closing windows and so on. I also need help with personal care tasks like getting in and out of bed, dressing and bathing. This can be undignified, thus affecting my confidence and making me feel incredibly self-conscious and utterly undesirable. After all, who wants their boyfriend to shower them?!
I HATE asking people to do things for me, as I then feel a burden, a nuisance, an annoyance. Having to ask people to simply open a bottle or a can at the grand old age of 30 is frankly embarrassing (for me).
Sometimes I refuse to speak up and request help. Call it pride or sheer stubbornness. But there are other times I have no choice. Like it or not, I have to ask, to instruct, to explain.
For the most part, I’ve managed to conceal the extent of my disability from those around me. Many people, friends included, think I am much more able and independent than I actually am. Again, put it down to pride. But there are some people I can’t hide this from. Family members, of course, but also anyone I am romantically involved with.
Due to the nature of my disability and all the added extras – care requirements, dependency, restrictions, the inability to be spontaneous – I always believed myself to be undeserving of love. I genuinely thought *think* of myself as an unnecessary burden. Why would anyone put up with me, my weak, crooked body and all of my baggage when they could choose to be with someone else?
As a result of this and a lifetime of rejection, I put up barriers and distanced myself from society; a form of self preservation. Being told repeatedly that I’m not good enough, I’m “no one’s type”, and “too much to take on” has made quite a negative impression on my self-esteem.
Now, I don’t want to ramble or get too personal. But I am slowly starting to trust and believe I am worthy of love and companionship.
They say there’s someone for everyone. The cynical part of me still questions this. But maybe, just maybe, there is.
It takes an extra special person to accept me and my care needs. To take on, without question, a pretty drastic lifestyle change. To see past the wheelchair, the crooked body, the medical equipment and the disability itself, and simply love me for me, unconditionally. To try to convince me every day that I’m not undesirable, unloveable or a burden. People like this are rare, but they are out there!
The recent trending Twitter hashtag #AbledsAreWeird, created by disability activist Crutches&Spice, has got me thinking about my own encounters and interactions with able-bodied society.
Uncomfortable? Awkward? Frustrating? Yup!
Here are some examples of my experiences as a non-ambulatory wheelchair-user (with Ullrich Congenital Muscular Dystrophy). I’m sure they are not unique to me!
Let me know if you can relate to any of the following scenarios…
Accessibility
Stranger: There’s only a few steps. Me: I can’t walk, hence the chair. Stranger: They’re only small steps. Me: Nope, still can’t walk I’m afraid. Stranger: Oh, not even with assistance? Me: Not even with assistance. Stranger: Not even a little bit? Me: Not even a little bit. Stranger: Not at all? Me: Not at all.
Awkward, deafening silence…
Stranger: There are steps but we can just lift you (in a powered wheelchair). Me: Thanks but this chair is really heavy. There’s no way you’ll lift it.
Stranger then attempts to lift me in my wheelchair, only to complain of the weight.
Stuck in a long queue of fit, young able-bods who look me up and down (in my wheelchair) but still choose to wait for the one and only lift/elevator rather than take the stairs, which would be much quicker!
A young driver in flashy sports car races into a blue badge bay and gets out without displaying a badge. Me: Excuse me, have you got a blue badge? Driver: No! Have YOU?! Me: YEP! (waving my blue badge at the driver while sat in my Motability WAV).
Being unable to access public disabled toilets because they’re being used for storage!
Entering a public disabled toilet after a mother and baby have just used it. It absolutely stinks and there are used nappies on the floor!
Online Dating
Guy: okay, can I be honest? Me: yes. Guy: let’s be real, you’re no one’s type. Are you! Me: erm, thanks!
Me: I can’t walk. I have something called muscular dystrophy. Guy: oh. Right. Okay… Me: yup… Guy: so is that something you could change if you work on your fitness? Me: no. Afraid not. Guy: not even if you try really hard and actually make an effort?
Me: I’m a wheelchair-user. Guy: oh right, what’s wrong with you? You self-propel, yeah? Me: no I can’t do that, and there’s nothing wrong with me. Guy: but I’ve seen some really fit girls in wheelchairs. They play basketball and all sorts! Me: yeah, that’s never gonna be me. Sorry.
Me: I’m a wheelchair-user. I can’t walk at all. Guy: oh, okay. What happened? Me: nothing happened. I have something called muscular dystrophy. Guy: I just Googled it. Wow that really is a disease isn’t it!! Me: fear not, it isn’t contagious.
Guy: oh, so you can’t walk at all? Me: yeah that’s right, I have muscular dystrophy so I can’t weight-bear. I use a powered wheelchair. Guy: okay…. Me: it’s fine if you want to ask questions. Guy: so…you don’t have sex then?? Me: why’s that? Guy: well, I’m guessing you can’t feel anything…you know.
Woman: aww, I’m sure you’ll find a nice guy in a wheelchair to date! Me: or just a nice guy!?
Social Worker Review
Assessor: are you able to make your own decisions? Me: yes. Assessor: always? Me: yes. Assessor: (with a sceptical expression) but…if you needed advice when making a decision, who would you ask? Me: myself!?
Socialising
Stranger, whilst leaning over, “It’s good to see you getting out and about”
At a restaurant with a group of friends, all of whom are able-bodied. Waiter comes to our table, looks at me in my wheelchair, and starts rambling about a friend of his who lives near a Paralympian. None of us know quite how to respond.
At the pub with a friend who goes to the bar to get us drinks. When she returns, she says a guy at the bar who she knows told her he didn’t realise she’s now a carer. She had to stop and think for a moment and then replied, “I’m not her carer. I’m her friend! We’ve known each other almost 20 years!”
The guy looked absolutely dumbfounded.
Driving & Mobility
“Wow, you learned to drive? Is that safe? Did you have a special instructor and a special test?”
“Your wheelchair’s a bit battered. Looks like you could do with a new one! I suppose you just call and get a replacement through the NHS?”
“Do you have to have training and a test to drive that thing? [my powered wheelchair]”
“They [wheelchairs] cost HOW MUCH?! Why are they so expensive? Can’t you just save up?”
University
“Oh, you went to university? Good for you! It’s something for you to do, isn’t it. How did you manage though?”
For over a decade, I have been hiring assistants (via Direct Payments) to help me with an array of tasks, including personal care.
I prefer to recruit my own staff rather than use agency workers. This has given me much more flexibility in terms of when, how and for the duration of time I use my PAs. It also means that I know exactly who will be providing my care, which is not always the case when going down the agency route. However, with this comes the added responsibility of being an employer, which in itself can be rather daunting and stressful.
I’m in the fortunate position of having a hugely supportive family who provide much of my everyday care. Since I live with my parents, I am unable to officially employ them as my carers, and so they carry out this role unpaid!
I do appreciate that not everyone has relatives to rely on. For these individuals, the only option is to pay others, often strangers, to assist with their care needs.
Like me, they might advertise, interview and hire independently, paying for their care with council funded Direct Payments (available in England, Scotland and Wales). Alternatively they may decide to use an agency.
For others though, in times of desperation, there’s no choice but to leave their residence and spend time in respite care. I know of cases where young people in their 20s have been placed in nursing homes for the elderly, where staff have no knowledge or experience of their condition and specialist needs. Personally, I can’t imagine such an experience and count myself lucky that I’ve never had to resort to this.
Over the years, I’ve employed around 10 carers/personal assistants, and interviewed many, many more! The most successful sources of recruitment for me are friends, neighbours, word of mouth and Facebook, though I also advertise locally (newsagents, post office, school newsletters, newspapers, etc).
Carer’s Allowance
If you are a full-time carer (at least 35 hours per week) you may be entitled to Carer’s Allowance.
You don’t need to be related to, or live with, the person you care for.
My Mum is in receipt of Carer’s Allowance (currently £64.60 per week) as she is my primary carer.
This may seem like a decent sum of money, but consider ~
£64.60 = 35+ hours care work. That equates to £1.80 per hour
This doesn’t include expenses, e.g. fuel/travel costs, parking fees (hospital appointments), etc.
My Open Letter to Carers/PAs
On behalf of all who require personal/social care, I invite anyone considering taking on the role of carer/personal assistant to think carefully about what it really means before you do apply.
Firstly, this is not a choice for us – it is a necessity! We’re not too busy or too lazy to do things for ourselves. When we advertise for carers, it’s because we NEED them and not necessarily because we want them.
As physically disabled individuals, many of us cannot independently carry out essential everyday tasks such as washing, dressing and toileting. To have no option but to entrust such intimate activities to another person – a stranger – is unnatural and unnerving. We are, in effect, placing our lives in your hands when you take on the vital role of personal carer.
Recruiting carers can be a lengthy and extremely stressful process for us. There’s the initial worry over whether there will be any applicants at all, followed by the dreaded interview process.
We often find ourselves waiting around for interviewees to attend, only for them to carelessly fail to show without any notification.
Please do bear in mind that disabled peoplehave busy, purposeful lives too, sodon’t waste our time. We appreciate there are valid reasons for failing to attend job interviews, but it’s no hardship making a quick phone call or sending a text message to let us know in advance.
As you would with any potential employer, be professional and courteous.
If and when we are able to successfully recruit, it can be incredibly frustrating and disheartening when that person flippantly decides to resign days later. You may wonder how and why this occurs, but the sad fact is that for many disabled people it is a reality. We are not afforded the luxury of being able to manage until a replacement is found. No, we can’t simply wait for the right person to show up.
Some of us even have to resort to respite and residential homes in the meantime, thereby taking us away from our own homes and everything we hold dear. Try to imagine if you will, how demoralising and distressing such a situation would be if it happened to you. I therefore reiterate how important it is to think before applying for a role as a personal carer.
Are you dedicated, trustworthy, reliable, able and willing to learn? Ask yourself: are you considering care work for the right reasons? (it is not an easy option!)
Your role as PA may be demanding and will involve a variety of tasks. You will be responsible for the safety and wellbeing of your potentially vulnerable client/employer.
So, if your attitude to care work is casual and indifferent, this is most definitely not a job for you!
Though I’d rather not admit it, I have a pretty big birthday coming up. In just over a week, I turn 30! It might not seem like much of a milestone to most people. But for those of us with muscular dystrophy, 30 is a big deal.
I’ve never really considered or cared much about age. Getting older has never bothered me, and I didn’t think I’d be fazed by reaching the big 3-0. But I’ll be honest, it is getting to me…just a little.
For various reasons, I’m not a fan of my own birthday at all. I’d rather it went unacknowledged and unnoticed. I hate any form of attention and am much happier when the focus is on other people. I’m definitely more of a hide in the corner type!
Back in October, I went on a five-day cruise to Amsterdam and Bruges, to celebrate my birthday. There are no other upcoming plans (at least, none that I’m aware of).
Those closest to me know I don’t like surprises (perhaps I am a bit of a control freak). So, if anything, all that’s left to come is a small family gathering – basically Sunday roast with the folks, the brothers, my sister-in-law and baby nephew. And that suits me just fine!
Muscular Dystrophy ~ A Life-limiting Condition
Accept it or not, the sad fact is, muscular dystrophy is a life-limiting condition. I’m aware of others who were told by medical professionals that they shouldn’t expect to live beyond the age of 20 (if that). In contrast, my parents and I were never given any indication whatsoever of my life expectancy. At no point were we told, ‘Carrie won’t reach adulthood’. Perhaps my consultants were being overly cautious. Perhaps they were just clueless! (I suspect the latter).
In a way, this allowed me to grow up in a state of blissful ignorance. For a long time, I believed I had just as much chance of growing old and wrinkly as the next person. It wasn’t until my late teens that I realised this wasn’t the case.
Now, I don’t want to get all deep and downbeat – just trying to keep it real (on the advice of certain people. You know who you are!).
Essentially, for better or worse, life has taught me to expect nothing. Expectation often leads to disappointment. These days, I try to go with the flow, I don’t make long-term plans or look too far into the future. I prefer to focus on the here and now.
Right now, I’m going to hold on to my youth for as long as possible by continuing to laugh at silly, childish things. I’m all about laughing, playing and having fun – believe me, I’ve had more than my fair share of serious!
And to anyone who doesn’t know otherwise, I’ll soon be 25, not 30 ~ thank’ya muchly!
My good friend, Lucy, recently graduated from Canterbury Christ Church University with a First-Class Honours degree.
Lucy Hudson at her graduation ceremony
24 year-old Lucy, who lives with her family in Kent, has a progressive form of muscular dystrophy.
Now that she’s free from study, I thought I’d grab her for a chat and ask about her university experience.
Perhaps the insight, information and advice offered here might be helpful to anyone out there with a disability, who is applying to university or considering higher education.
Lucy with her carers and peers at university.
1. Hi Lucy, can you please describe your disability and how it affects you.
Hey! So, I have Congenital Muscular Dystrophy – Merosin Deficient, meaning I lack the merosin needed to knit the layers of my muscles together. Because of this, I get progressively weaker over time due to my muscles being unable to properly repair themselves.
This weakness means I can’t really do anything for myself without support from other people. It also makes daily habits difficult as I lack the strength to hold things and do things. A few examples might be that I find it difficult to feed myself as I find certain cutlery too heavy to lift, I can no longer read books unless they’re digital as I cannot hold them or turn pages, and I need regular hoisting for transfers and the bathroom.
Being a muscle defect, my organs and my lungs in particular are affected, meaning I have regular medication and ventilator intervention to aid my breathing. Lying down helps with this, as well as only being able to write/type lying down, which means I lie down most of the time.
2. Did your disability put off going to university? And what, if any, concerns did you have prior to applying for university?
I knew it would be difficult to apply to university but I wouldn’t say my disability ever “put me off” of applying. I’ve been very lucky with my education in that my parents have always pushed for inclusion and for me to receive education befitting my abilities. I went to a mainstream primary school, a grammar school for my secondary education, and college after that. So applying for university, whilst scary, was the logical next step for me.
That’s not to say I didn’t have any concerns regarding how I would be able to access higher education with my disability. One of my main worries was that Uni is a very different environment from school in that the campus is a lot bigger! Having hoists and a portable bed so I can lie down is all well and good when it’s accessible but, what if I was timetabled for lectures in a different building to my equipment? It wouldn’t be possible to transfer every 5 minutes, so it took a while to negotiate a timetable solely in one place – it was tough but doable.
3. Could you please explain the application process and any challenges you faced?
The application process itself was exactly the same as if I were an ‘able-bodied’ student – I applied through UCAS and SFE (Student Finance England). However, perhaps most importantly for me, I also had to apply for extra DSA (Disabled Students Allowance) as well. It was the next steps that were a bit different…
After applying and being accepted, I began having regular meetings with the disability officer who would be supporting me during my time at Uni. The disability department at my university in particular was split into different fields: physical disabilities, learning disabilities, and mental health.
We discussed suitable timetabling, storage for my hoists and bed, even suitable places for my carers to chill out whilst I was in lectures. It was all sorted over the summer months before term was due to start.
I chose to live at home with my family throughout the duration of my course (2015-18) rather than on campus, so that was one less thing to organise.
4. What support did you receive and was it difficult to get this support in place?
I have my own team of personal carers, provided by an agency, who supported me whilst a student. In my case, this wasn’t something the university or disability officer organised or supported with.
The DSA I used mainly to pay for transport. I paid for a wheelchair-accessible taxi to take me to Uni or the library each day. The finance was also used to supply me with a MacBook and accompanying software such as Dragon Naturally Speaking and Claroread, as well as a printer and allowances for things like ink cartridges and paper.
I personally found the process of co-ordinating with my disability officer really straightforward at the beginning. She really listened to what my needs were and to the best of her abilities made sure everything was in place before I started my course. However, it was once I had enrolled that her involvement became less proactive. I think a major learning experience for me would be that I should have been more proactive myself in maintaining regular contact with her.
There are undoubtedly going to be a number of disabled students on the system at whichever university you attend. Therefore, I would say if you feel you need help or advice, don’t hesitate to ask! Because, when I did ask, she generally followed through. I only wish I’d asked for her help a lot more than I did.
5. How would you rate your university experience from a disability/inclusivity perspective?
Looking back on my experience as a disabled student, I’d rate my experience quite highly to be honest. There were certain things I found more difficult but generally I was included really well. I was able to lie down in lectures and participate fully, timetabling was set so I remained in one classroom for the entire day (something which my peers were VERY appreciative of, and made it known to me regularly). My equipment both on campus and at the library was easily accessible and staff were very helpful in its safe storage. All members of staff – from lecturers to security and housekeeping were continuously supportive and understanding of my needs.
6. In your opinion, what improvements need to be made to make higher education more accessible to disabled people?
As previously mentioned, I’ve been lucky in having the family support and confidence to access university, but I know how difficult it can be to have that confidence. I think one of the main reasons for this is because the process isn’t made clear or obvious. I mean, I had to work out my own process moving forward after my application. Whilst every process for establishing individual needs at Uni is going to be different, I think it’s important that the availability of such a step is highlighted.
I think UCAS and all university websites should, as a minimum, have a clear disability section outlining key contacts of enquiry. It’s far easier to make confident decisions if you’re fully informed and know that there’s going to be the support you need behind you.
I won’t rose tint – accessing higher education as a disabled student can be like having to find your own way in the dark! By no means is it a clear, easy-to-follow process.
7. What advice would you offer other disabled people considering university?
Having now completed university, I guess I’d advise others to try their best not to get anxious about the process. Yes, it’s daunting. Yes, it’s tough. But ultimately it is worth it.
As long as you’re clear and assertive about your needs, there will always be people around to support you. If you need support with campus or timetabling issues, ask the Uni. If you need help in class, ask your lecturers. If you need a pen, ask one of your peers! It all sounds really obvious and stupid but I can’t stress enough how important it is to just ask for help. But most importantly, be confident in yourself and just be yourself!
8. As a physically disabled individual, what do you consider to be the potential challenges around the social aspect of university life?
I think the social aspects of life in any context can be difficult for disabled people but at Uni it can be especially hard for some. I think one of the most important things to remember is that, actually, it’s not just you and it’s definitely not just disabled people that have this issue.
Many students relocate for university, sometimes half way across the country, sometimes half way across the world. So you’re all going to be in the same boat in that respect.
However, I’m not dismissing the fact that disabled people have it tougher than most. I think the most important thing is, once again, confidence. Many people lack the confidence to introduce themselves to disabled people for a multitude of different reasons – they don’t know what to say, they don’t know if you can respond, they don’t know if you want to be spoken to. All of these things can seriously put people off because they don’t want to embarrass themselves, or you for that matter, so it’s up to us to have the confidence that they lack.
Introduce yourself to people at Freshers’ Fayre, be an active member of your class and, if possible, join a society or two. Be the best version of yourself and people will be drawn to you.
*All images courtesy of Lucy Hudson
Lucy is a brilliant writer, having co-authored the poetry anthology ‘Wheels of Motion‘ which can be purchased here!
