Annie, what do you get asked the most?
It’s kind of ironic because that exact question is one of the most popular, but coming in at a close second…
How fast does your chair go?
The question I want to talk about today is…
What does it feel like?
My official diagnosis is that I am an incomplete C5 quadriplegic. An incomplete spinal cord injury means that the ability of the spinal cord to send messages from the brain is not completely lost. This is compared to a complete spinal cord injury, where there is no function at all below the level of injury. Now knowing this, it is important for me to tell you that how my body functions, and what I feel can be completely different from somebody else who has the same level of injury as I do. That is the thing about spinal cord injuries. Each one is so different, and the amount of return after the injury varies for each person.
I know, there is a lot going on in this picture. This is not one of those popular “leg” photos that people always seem to take by a body of water. Well, it is… but for a different reason. I wanted you all to see it because this is my view. There is a beautiful lake, because I am sitting at my favorite spot at the end of our dock which is where I do quite a bit of my writing. I have my favorite sandals and some bright pink toenails. Please do not let those pink toenails or pink shorts fool you though… I love fishing, football, and I do not mind getting my hands dirty. There also layers upon layers of scars. Each scar has its own story, and some of my favorite include softball wins and stolen bases.
Here they are… these legs of mine. They look like they should work, right!?
After 15 years of being in this wheelchair, I can honestly say that every day, at least once a day I still look down at these legs and think to myself, “Man… you really look like you should work…” This thought goes through my head because, these legs of mine look like they always have. Yeah, they are a little smaller due to some muscle atrophy, but besides that, I often feel like I should be able to hop out of this chair and go for a walk. I am not sure if that thought will ever go away, because spinal cord injuries are just really confusing and hard to understand, and sometimes even harder to grasp… Even after 15 years.
So, I will do my best to answer the question, “What does it feel like?”
Many times people think that I can not feel anything at all. Others may not realize that I have even lost feeling below my injury. Listen, it is OK. I will be the first to admit that I knew nothing about spinal cord injuries until I actually had one.
With my level of injury, I have complete feeling and sensation from my chest/mid-bicep and up. I have complete movement of my shoulders and biceps. My triceps are stubborn and kick in on a good day. For me, this is a blessing, because I still have the ability to hug, to hold babies, to wave, to pet puppies, and to use a headlock when needed. It is a collection of little things that add up to a whole bunch… especially when they are things I was very close to losing the ability to do in a split second. They are all things that I used to be able to do without thinking twice about it.
Now, all the complicated stuff is the rest of my body below that level. Internally, I can feel almost everything… every muscle spasm, muscle cramp, nerve pain, and these strange zings that shoot down my legs when someone scares the crap out of me. Weird, right? Externally it is a completely different story. The best way to describe it is, if someone would come up and pinch my leg I would be able to tell you where that person pinched me, but I would not feel the pain of the pinch. Granted, my leg might involuntarily jump and kick that person in the shin, because that is how my body reacts to any pain below my chest, and let’s be real here… that person deserves it! The same goes for my sensation of feeling anything hot or cold on my skin. There has been a number of instances where I have looked down at my arms or hands and I have a burn blister, and I was clueless because I did not feel it at all. So, plates at Mexican restaurants are my nemesis… Those suckers are en fuego!
Here is the crazy thing… my nerves are all connected still. This means that anytime I attempt to move a body part such as my toe, I feel every signal down to the tip of that toe. Actually, if I close my eyes and try to move my toe, I would bet you money that it is moving. That goes for any part of my body below my level of injury that is paralyzed. I can try and try until I am blue in the face, which I have done before. So, even though I feel every signal going down, I just can not get those muscles to fire. A spinal cord injury is similar to the broken electrical cord that is pictured below. You can do everything humanly possible to jam that cord back together, but all the internal wires will not connect. You may get lucky and some of those wires will find a pathway, and you may have some return.
My mom simply says that I am “wired” funny, and you know… I really can’t argue with her.
I know explaining what I feel may somewhat answer your questions, but I also am very aware that it does not fully demonstrate my specific experiences. So, I have found something that you can do as a way of somewhat feeling what I feel. I can not remember where I found this or who came up with it, but kudos to whoever you are! Check out the picture below to help, but before you do I am putting a disclaimer that at first glance it will look like I am flipping you off… I am not!
All I need you to do is to make a fist then put your fist down on the table… Palm side down. Next, I want you to put your ring finger out straight, so it is the only finger sticking out and it should be touching the table also. Now, without lifting your hand off the table I want you to try and lift that ring finger up off the table… without moving anything else except that finger. I bet you can feel every signal going down to the tip of the finger, and some of you may even get it to twitch or wiggle a little, but it refuses to do what your brain is telling it to do.
You can grunt. You can cuss. You can hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut. You can stare at it trying to will it to move. You can turn 100 shades of red on your face. It just will not budge.
That is it. That is what I feel.
Oh, and by the way, to answer that other popular question… 6 mph. My wheelchair tops out at 6 mph. It does not sound fast, but trust me… 6 mph down the aisles at a grocery store is fast.
Fast and fun.
