Reflections of a Survivior

Today is my 40^th birthday. It is said that 40 years is the midpoint in one’s life. It is a milestone and the beginning of a new phase in life. But, somehow I don’t feel old. All of my classmates are married and well settled in different parts of the world. But I have lost contact with almost all of them.

I think the reason is that I don’t fit into their group or profile. I am still a bachelor, still think that I am 27 years old and talk about subjects that are no longer in their radar. I think at least half of my brain had gone into a time freeze and is still at 27 years. Even my younger brother acts and feels more matured than me. Having a family and kids has that effect on people. Me… I still think and act as if I am just out of college.

It has been 13 years since I met with my accident. And, quite eventful 13 years it had been. I saw all my dreams and aspirations getting washed away by a giant tidal wave. Like any normal person, I too had dreams about my life. I too had ambitions. I wanted to go abroad, work there, study there, and visit a lot of places. I wanted to have a family, and have kids. I wanted to be a good husband and a great father.

If fate had not intervened in 1993, in all probability I would have worked in US and Europe, took my PhD in software engineering from MIT or Carnegie Mellon University, got married and probably would have had kids. I am absolutely sure that I would have been a good employee, a brilliant student, a loving husband-friend to my wife and a caring father to my kids. But none of that happened. God had other plans.

Before my accident, I used to study hard and work hard. At the same time I used to have a lot of fun. I really enjoyed life during my college days and while working. There never was a dull moment in those days.

Spinal cord injury robbed me of all the comforts and conveniences that I took for granted for 27 years—the ability to stand, walk, climb stairs, drive, ride, swim, feel—the list is endless. I can’t go shopping, sightseeing or for a movie. I can’t attend the marriages, birthdays, anniversaries and other functions of my relatives and friends. I can’t get a job and I can’t do most of my favorite activities.

It is difficult to adjust, when all the things that one has taken for granted for 27 years are lost in the blink of an eye. It is a very depressing for a person who used to be physically very active and who was a fitness freak to just sit on a wheelchair, watching helplessly the muscles going soft and body weight going up. It is agonizing for a car and bike lover to sit inside the house looking at other people whizzing around in the latest model cars and bikes. It is unbearable for a person who enjoyed good food and drinks to become a teetotaler and be on diet indefinitely. It is tough for a person who smoked about 40 cigarettes and drank about 20 cups of coffee a day to completely stop the intake of nicotine and caffeine. It is completely demoralizing for a person who was fiercely independent to be dependent on others even to sit up in bed.

Out of the 13 years after my accident, I had a regular job for the first 2 years. Then I stayed at home, venturing out only to go to the hospital. In our country, where places are designed for able bodied people, there is not much point in going out as it is not at all enjoyable and the end result is days of body pain due to the ‘handling’ that one has to endure to reach those inaccessible places.

Being paralyzed from chest down in not the end of things, being confined to the wheelchair does not make one useless. Having no sensation has its advantages (like lack of pain, capability to undergo major surgeries without anesthesia, etc.). The restrictions on alcohol, coffee, cigarettes and food are good for health. Inability to go out can be considered a blessing as it gives you a lot of time to work, read, write and dream. The trick to survive is not to think about what you have lost and concentrate on what is left and how to make the best use of it.

This day, my 40^th birthday, I thank my family, especially my brother, for the abundant support and love they have given me. I am also very grateful to my friends who have helped me, was with me and who are still helping and encouraging me.

I don’t harbor any ill will towards my friends who left me when I needed them most. They had their lives to live. I wish them all the best in their lives.

I would be lying, if I said I don’t have any malice towards those people, who have cheated me, used me, manipulated me, hurt me, and most importantly took advantage of my disability. I am no saint and I cannot forgive them or forget what they have done. I sincerely hope that one day they will get the taste of their own medicine. But their numbers are too few and the incidents are far in between to lose my faith in the underlying goodness of humanity.

When I had a chance, I lived my life to its fullest, enjoying every moment. Even when I am down, I try to give life my best shot.

For a person with spinal cord injury, every day is a struggle—struggle for survival. It is not easy to live when 80% of your body is not at your command. I think, I have survived so far, and survived with honor.

I borrow the words of Terry Waite to conclude this post—no regrets, no self-pity and no-over sentimentality.

Thank you friends…