WARNING: THOSE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH REPORTAGE
OF MY PERSONAL JOURNEY TO A CURE FOR PARALYSIS,
PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.
Greetings, fellow sufferers and those who attend and accompany us,
I have returned from the land of the Living
to the land of the Tortured, hunkered low with our thousand-pound logs for bodies...
No, I did not return gracefully, they had to drag me onto the plane to get me to leave. Still, change happens and it finally became apparent that I must at last move
from my spot.
Hitting the ground running, in my first week, I have begun a gaited ambulation program locally, using the Lite-Gait system and two therapists. I'm ugly but three days of therapy have me gradually throwing a hip or two forward with greater proficiency. Kitty, my PT, is astonished, 'Hey, you just might have something going.' Damn tootin'.
My months in Brasil have borne rich personal fruits... and some progress towards recovery. Indeed, I have to say I am better, stronger, less pain, more vibrant than pre-Brasil, though I am not walking, standing, nor have any of the vaunted 'functions' returned, yet (ah, yes, eternally hopeful, I). Too, before my trip, I was awkwardly though not reliably standing for a few seconds at a time; since then, I have been off the standing frame entirely while in Brasil... and haven't independently stood, though we have yet to really give it a try and we'll see how things flesh out as I get back into a more dynamic program: gait training thrice weekly with lots of stretching (problems with my heels not resting on the braces when I treadmill 'walk,' damn learned inactivity crap, tendons and ligaments shortening; was able to do 12 minutes by day 3, though), getting into a pool as often as possible, standing frame daily, greater general exercise and activity. Going to travel this summer, get out of the heat, Oregon coast, Vegas for spiritual re-affirmation.
Much better without the damn 17-inch rods in the back. I recommend that be done if the choice ever comes up; you sleep so much easier. Been off any pain meds for two months, no meds at all. No back brace since I arrived in late March, ah and that weird nerve-buzzing, on my forearms primarily, but all through me, has vanished, or diminished.
Not as anxious, impatient as a few months ago.
The facilities in Brasil are lacking compared to our first-world conditions, no treadmills, hydraulic lifts or whiz-bang mats, but they more than make up for being a step behind technologically by caring so greatly for the patient. In the entire time and having met several different university, hospital and clinical staffs in Sao Paulo and the south, Parana, Santa Catarina, the same observation could be made: the researchers, therapists and doctors care, they linger and connect with you. I could ask questions, anything I liked and they would take the time to respond. I spent hours, not 35 minutes or whatever, with Daniel, my therapist in Balnariou Camboriu, hours of stretching, pool work, movement, massage, all aimed at restoration, the possibility of; talk, too, of the philosophy of surviving accidents which bring us one step from death itself, talk of the metaphysic of paralysis, and where in our American clinics perfunctory do we talk of the metaphysic? Who here in the States regularly speaks, patron-to-client, about the Reality of paralysis, what it Is to be plegic? No one openly faces and addresses that, what our souls experience, save occasionally at the Wednesday night get-togethers where we 'share' experiences; all efforts instead are focused on body, function, 'caring.' Yet this caring
is largely pornographic, without essence, a going through of the motions. In Brasil,
a great deal of attention is addressed to your sense of purpose now as a plegic,
how the spirit is to survive the numbing crushing smothering quicksand of constant paralysis, the buzzing screaming continuing mad Discomfort which is this Hell,
'Whacko spasms whenever ya shift position, throw ya outta the chair; ah, damn, another busted heel? This thing'll never heal up... oops, hey, I don't have to piss again, do I? Better grab my... yep, soaking wet. You don't suppose it's another bladder infection?'
Today is my first day back to the forum; spent the morning trying to get up to speed, reading developments, who says what, etc. I'm impressed and intrigued by developments at Egaz Moniz in Lisbon, and the efforts of the Ambler group. Actually, it appears that quite a few people here are stepping up their efforts, lots of collaborations. Who knows what breakthroughs will happen when people actually try.
Wise Young reports concisely on what's taking place with the Barros study at U of SP.
I made many a query, visited first-hand and shall add the upshot of my investigations is that they are WILLING NOW to attempt the bone marrow quest and they have people volunteering and thus they are moving quickly, steadily; the trials are being launched as we speak, and judging from the people I met, we shall be hearing results soon. They are confident; I'll report when I can. In some ways, I wish I was involved, a player getting injected; yet, not only I am excluded (at this phase) by virtue of my procedure with Cheng, I also want to wait and see; if it works to any degree, the door will widen for all of us, for they know people are suffering. A stunningly profound collection of rotting, festering plegics at a certain hospital in Sao Paulo should be enough to serve as reminder of the suffering this condition brings. My god, I have never seen anything like it...
Fat, a butterball from weeks of barbequed meats of every description, chicken, sausages, shrimp, plates of fresh seafood, beer, tall and cool, 'yes, another one please, porque nao?' Ah, Brasil, what memories I take: a panoply of foods, wines, cigars, music by the beach with the madman, Isaias da Mata, club gigs before a few hundred, a studio session, voice, confidence returning, 'Strange to be performing in a damn wheelchair, though nobody really seems to care, except me...'
Hours sitting before the water, working, thinking, dreaming, scheming, Being.
And the girls, the asses abundant, free, proud. Here, if you look at a woman, she'll sue; there, she's offended if you don't.
More and more intense spasms, and yet I refuse to drug myself for them. Deep burning pain lasting longer and longer, mostly right side. Feels like I oughtta be able to move, something; just on the verge, right there... then no. Increasing sensation in the groin. Hey, got a hard on twice now that actually worked, kinda. Who knows if it wasn't just random luck, but further experiments are certainly warranted and shall be conducted.
I have not been in touch with Dr. Cheng of late, nor do I plan to return this year soon for a second injection, unless he specifically suggests it. I am thoroughly satisfied with having done my procedure, and believe I made the right choice; at minimum, the Harringtons are gone, I'm decompressed and cleaned up, and there's a window ready for a next-generation therapy. And I may, in time, actually recover something, though I am certain that any ability to control movement is a long-shot. What's taking place in my groin, however, is not. More and steadier sensation, uncomfortable but there. Can really feel the bladder, occasionally now the finger. Yeah, I do hope I'm getting somewhere, but like many of you 'believers' insist, our future is less bleak than it was even five years ago. Combinations are coming, we will be pieced together, more or less, soon, in geologic time, I know, but soon nonetheless. Yeah, I know, just not today...
And I am saddened to report a great loss: my brother-by-spirit, Rich Baker, died a few weeks ago due to complications from pneumonia. I am still stunned. Tad, his brother, came down and is now staying indefinitely in Brasil. Live well each day, people. No one knows tomorrow.
I must add this, too: unless there are objections, I will be updating this thread with relevant information as it develops.
vgrafen
OF MY PERSONAL JOURNEY TO A CURE FOR PARALYSIS,
PLEASE READ NO FURTHER.
Greetings, fellow sufferers and those who attend and accompany us,
I have returned from the land of the Living
to the land of the Tortured, hunkered low with our thousand-pound logs for bodies...
No, I did not return gracefully, they had to drag me onto the plane to get me to leave. Still, change happens and it finally became apparent that I must at last move
from my spot.
Hitting the ground running, in my first week, I have begun a gaited ambulation program locally, using the Lite-Gait system and two therapists. I'm ugly but three days of therapy have me gradually throwing a hip or two forward with greater proficiency. Kitty, my PT, is astonished, 'Hey, you just might have something going.' Damn tootin'.
My months in Brasil have borne rich personal fruits... and some progress towards recovery. Indeed, I have to say I am better, stronger, less pain, more vibrant than pre-Brasil, though I am not walking, standing, nor have any of the vaunted 'functions' returned, yet (ah, yes, eternally hopeful, I). Too, before my trip, I was awkwardly though not reliably standing for a few seconds at a time; since then, I have been off the standing frame entirely while in Brasil... and haven't independently stood, though we have yet to really give it a try and we'll see how things flesh out as I get back into a more dynamic program: gait training thrice weekly with lots of stretching (problems with my heels not resting on the braces when I treadmill 'walk,' damn learned inactivity crap, tendons and ligaments shortening; was able to do 12 minutes by day 3, though), getting into a pool as often as possible, standing frame daily, greater general exercise and activity. Going to travel this summer, get out of the heat, Oregon coast, Vegas for spiritual re-affirmation.
Much better without the damn 17-inch rods in the back. I recommend that be done if the choice ever comes up; you sleep so much easier. Been off any pain meds for two months, no meds at all. No back brace since I arrived in late March, ah and that weird nerve-buzzing, on my forearms primarily, but all through me, has vanished, or diminished.
Not as anxious, impatient as a few months ago.
The facilities in Brasil are lacking compared to our first-world conditions, no treadmills, hydraulic lifts or whiz-bang mats, but they more than make up for being a step behind technologically by caring so greatly for the patient. In the entire time and having met several different university, hospital and clinical staffs in Sao Paulo and the south, Parana, Santa Catarina, the same observation could be made: the researchers, therapists and doctors care, they linger and connect with you. I could ask questions, anything I liked and they would take the time to respond. I spent hours, not 35 minutes or whatever, with Daniel, my therapist in Balnariou Camboriu, hours of stretching, pool work, movement, massage, all aimed at restoration, the possibility of; talk, too, of the philosophy of surviving accidents which bring us one step from death itself, talk of the metaphysic of paralysis, and where in our American clinics perfunctory do we talk of the metaphysic? Who here in the States regularly speaks, patron-to-client, about the Reality of paralysis, what it Is to be plegic? No one openly faces and addresses that, what our souls experience, save occasionally at the Wednesday night get-togethers where we 'share' experiences; all efforts instead are focused on body, function, 'caring.' Yet this caring
is largely pornographic, without essence, a going through of the motions. In Brasil,
a great deal of attention is addressed to your sense of purpose now as a plegic,
how the spirit is to survive the numbing crushing smothering quicksand of constant paralysis, the buzzing screaming continuing mad Discomfort which is this Hell,
'Whacko spasms whenever ya shift position, throw ya outta the chair; ah, damn, another busted heel? This thing'll never heal up... oops, hey, I don't have to piss again, do I? Better grab my... yep, soaking wet. You don't suppose it's another bladder infection?'
Today is my first day back to the forum; spent the morning trying to get up to speed, reading developments, who says what, etc. I'm impressed and intrigued by developments at Egaz Moniz in Lisbon, and the efforts of the Ambler group. Actually, it appears that quite a few people here are stepping up their efforts, lots of collaborations. Who knows what breakthroughs will happen when people actually try.
Wise Young reports concisely on what's taking place with the Barros study at U of SP.
I made many a query, visited first-hand and shall add the upshot of my investigations is that they are WILLING NOW to attempt the bone marrow quest and they have people volunteering and thus they are moving quickly, steadily; the trials are being launched as we speak, and judging from the people I met, we shall be hearing results soon. They are confident; I'll report when I can. In some ways, I wish I was involved, a player getting injected; yet, not only I am excluded (at this phase) by virtue of my procedure with Cheng, I also want to wait and see; if it works to any degree, the door will widen for all of us, for they know people are suffering. A stunningly profound collection of rotting, festering plegics at a certain hospital in Sao Paulo should be enough to serve as reminder of the suffering this condition brings. My god, I have never seen anything like it...
Fat, a butterball from weeks of barbequed meats of every description, chicken, sausages, shrimp, plates of fresh seafood, beer, tall and cool, 'yes, another one please, porque nao?' Ah, Brasil, what memories I take: a panoply of foods, wines, cigars, music by the beach with the madman, Isaias da Mata, club gigs before a few hundred, a studio session, voice, confidence returning, 'Strange to be performing in a damn wheelchair, though nobody really seems to care, except me...'
Hours sitting before the water, working, thinking, dreaming, scheming, Being.
And the girls, the asses abundant, free, proud. Here, if you look at a woman, she'll sue; there, she's offended if you don't.
More and more intense spasms, and yet I refuse to drug myself for them. Deep burning pain lasting longer and longer, mostly right side. Feels like I oughtta be able to move, something; just on the verge, right there... then no. Increasing sensation in the groin. Hey, got a hard on twice now that actually worked, kinda. Who knows if it wasn't just random luck, but further experiments are certainly warranted and shall be conducted.
I have not been in touch with Dr. Cheng of late, nor do I plan to return this year soon for a second injection, unless he specifically suggests it. I am thoroughly satisfied with having done my procedure, and believe I made the right choice; at minimum, the Harringtons are gone, I'm decompressed and cleaned up, and there's a window ready for a next-generation therapy. And I may, in time, actually recover something, though I am certain that any ability to control movement is a long-shot. What's taking place in my groin, however, is not. More and steadier sensation, uncomfortable but there. Can really feel the bladder, occasionally now the finger. Yeah, I do hope I'm getting somewhere, but like many of you 'believers' insist, our future is less bleak than it was even five years ago. Combinations are coming, we will be pieced together, more or less, soon, in geologic time, I know, but soon nonetheless. Yeah, I know, just not today...
And I am saddened to report a great loss: my brother-by-spirit, Rich Baker, died a few weeks ago due to complications from pneumonia. I am still stunned. Tad, his brother, came down and is now staying indefinitely in Brasil. Live well each day, people. No one knows tomorrow.
I must add this, too: unless there are objections, I will be updating this thread with relevant information as it develops.
vgrafen
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