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Text Box: Depth gauge reading 14.1ft at same spot 3 years later. Text Box: These photographs above were taken on the 4th July 1998 a few hours before my injury Text Box: Courtney being entertained

 

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Text Box: Corn... corn... lots of CORN!

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Text Box: Corn... corn... more corn...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: Meanwhile I contacted the Foreign Office questioning why it cost so much for the flight and was it really necessary for me to pay £4,000 for the return of my passport facilities. Bromenn hospital in the United States not only paid £4,500 for the flight, but wrote off the hospital bill which was in excess of $120,000. In reply the Foreign Office totally denied any of the telephone conversations and painted themselves in a very rosy light as my saviours, yet they were very slow on the uptake when I asked for an itemised bill for the cost of the flight.     It was a difficult time in Southport, firstly I didn’t have family or friends close by and I wasn’t surrounded by the lovely nurses I was used to fussing around me in the States, they were all too busy in Southport, there again I would have come across as a bit of an arse constantly going on about America! Not that the nurses weren’t lovely in Southport because they were… I felt frustrated for them on the knife edge of our under funded mismanaged health service that runs them ragged. I did have a favourite nurse called Lisa, she’d just finished her training and I was her first patient, she always wore a smile that warmed my heart and made my day (we still keep in touch).  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: Then there was my new body, trying to do the simplest of tasks like brush my teeth. I had a strap fixed to my hand which held my toothbrush, but I couldn’t brush normally because I have no ‘active’ triceps, meaning I couldn’t pull the brush out once it was in… I ended up wedging my head, still in the halo, facing down between the taps allowing gravity to drop my arm. This motion repeated enabled me to clean my teeth. Then there was shaving through and around the bars!!! After one month in Southport the halo was removed, that’s 3 months in total. When the halo is unscrewed there’s no anaesthetic, they just slowly dismantle it. As the last screw was loosened and the head piece lifted off, my head felt as though it was going to float away... la la la!    

 

Text Box: Paralysis C5/6 - Tetraplegic I have written above that I was paralysed from the neck down at first, but over a period of a few months I regained the use of more muscles, as for sensation, when I had my arms painted blue (see photo in ‘Artwork’) I was surprised to discover I had gained more sensation to touch… only a few square centimetres – but it’s been 7 years since my injury!   It is an eye opener for me to see on paper how few muscles I am able to command. I have tried to depict in these artist sketches what muscles I can use following a Cervical break C5/6.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: An indication of active muscle from the head down.

Text Box: This demonstrates how little active muscle I have in my right arm

 

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Text Box: My first family visit - Nicki, Stuart and niece Charlotte

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: From the top of my head I have total control of all my face and neck muscles. I have full use of all my deltoids left and right (shoulder muscles) and the use of my biceps, wrist extensors and a few other small forearm muscles… and that’s it.   I have more control of my left arm which is now slightly stronger than the right, due to this I have become left handed. I still use a pen attachment on my right hand to sign my name, sketch and write really badly, everything else I do with my left due to having greater dexterity and sensation.     My muscles have adapted to paralysis, such as my biceps work in extension as well as contraction in conjunction with the deltoids to allow me good upper arm movement. I need to keep these muscles exercised regularly to make them work for me.   As explained in Artwork I’m able to use the forearm muscles to lift my hand backwards, this motion brings the index finger and thumb together and enables me to lightly hold objects (tenodesis grasp)…   After 2 years of working at this grip I was able to lift a pint of larger! Yay!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: Sensation My sensation to touch is depicted in flesh tone in the diagram on the right, notice the difference of active muscle and surface areas where I can feel. I have indicated my index finger and thumb on my lift side as having sensation to touch, though minimal it means I’m able to paint as I can feel the brush. I do have sensation throughout my body, far more than any able bodied person!   The comparison of normal sensation and my paralysis: If an able bodied person was naked and stood still in a room which was heated to body temperature, the only thing they would feel was their feet on the floor and areas that were touching such as: arms besides the chest, hair on the back of the neck, eyelids when they blink and lips when the touch. They may feel some sexual sensations deep within depending on their state of arousal and sexuality.

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: The evening finished with sneaking loudly and drunken back into the hospital… Fantastic!

 

 

Text Box: It is the same for me shoulder level and above, below that my arms feel animated, especially the right arm which is almost like a fairground crane that picks up fluffy toys. Even though I have part sensation in both arms and can feel part of my left hand, both hands feel as if I’m wearing tight mittens that are hard and curled. My chest feels tight and solid along with my stomach which burns inside. From there down its deep red burning pins and needles, heightened in sensitive areas like the back of my knees, butt cheeks and especially groin. My feet and groin have the most intense sensation along with the burning pins and needles they pulsate and throb as well as feeling under pressure or squashed. Depending on the intensity... it can sometimes feel a bit special! :o)   It was and still is difficult having limited amount of muscle, however enthusiastic I was working hard at rehabilitation some days my body just didn’t want to know, I’d feel incredibly weak and tired but this was never understood by the physiotherapists.

Text Box: Comparison of active muscle and sensation to touch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: Fixture from front Text Box: The titanium fixture that holds my neck together Text Box: MRI (Magnetic resonance imaging) scans of my neck Text Box: The following day I had to say my good byes to everyone before being taken to the airport by ambulance, as a last minute decision Rachel travelled with me. Sue met up with us at the airport for a tearful good bye.   The air ambulance nurse concentrated his attention on sliming around Rachel, then the stewardesses after he’d helped me into my seat. After waking up in Manchester he admitted to slipping extra diazepam (vallium) into my medication to knock me out during the flight… bastard!   Back in Britain I was admitted to Southport Spinal Injuries Unit (SIU), it was the only bed space available and nearly 100 miles away from my home town of Wakefield. It was definitely a culture shock, under funded, under staffed yet declared the best health service in the world!!! I found it very difficult to settle in amidst the repetition of “we haven’t got the staff” and “we don’t have the funding for that”, whereas in the States everything possible was done to encourage rehabilitation while promoting a positive mental attitude. To add insult to injury, I found it so demeaning to be given a prognosis using a telephone exchange as a metaphor in order to explain the damage to my spinal cord. It had already been explained to me in detail in America where they spoke to me as an adult not a child.   On reflection Southport was the cleanest SIU I have visited in Britain. It is in my belief a better structured SIU than others in the way SCI patients are grouped, for instance, they have a high dependency room with high level SCI’s many of which are ventilated, then there was my room where most of us were Tetraplegic C5-C7. There was another room either side of mine, one with paraplegics and the other for the ladies. It seemed so obvious and so simplistic that by grouping us in that way we were able to rehabilitate together, picking up hints and tips from each other to achieve some of the simplest tasks like washing or picking up a cup! Yet at the same time there was no confusion by placing patients in the same room with similar level of spinal cord injury that were ‘incomplete’ (the people who apparently make ‘miraculous’ recoveries which are often portrayed in TV dramas or over sensationalised by the media).   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Text Box: The attention and care given was fantastic, I had one to one treatment from both occupational therapists and physiotherapists. In addition I had Rachel, an attractive nurse who nursed me on a daily basis Monday thru Friday. We built up a fantastic patient - nurse relationship in my two months there, occasionally playing jokes on her like pretending I’d choked on some toast when she was out of the room... she almost hit the code blue alarm (non breathing). I kind of knew I was falling for her even though I was smitten with Mindy at that time, though I'm sure with Mindy it was merely a 'British' infatuation thing.   Text Box: During this time the British Consulate General in Chicago had been in contact. They seemed more concerned with who was going to take responsibility for the hospital bill and the cost of flying me back to Britain, rather than my well being. It was left to the hospital in the States to find me a bed in a spinal unit in Britain, in contradiction to what the Consulate stated but I overheard the phone call locating me a bed in Southport. When we were informed that the flight was £8,500 my brother and I asked for financial aid from the Foreign Office. The Foreign Office replied to my brother in a telephone conversation "we don't have enough funds due to aid being supplied elsewhere overseas… and what would the 'tax payer' think if we were to grant Mr Harrison financial support".   We couldn't believe what we were hearing from our own Government, my brother stated "he and all my family and friends are working and tax payers". We were further disgusted to discover the cost was for a regular first class seat on a scheduled flight with American Airlines, the only extra was for a male nurse from Fox Air Ambulance to accompany me.   Four days prior to my departure from the States I was sent a form from the British Consulate titled 'Understanding to Pay' for the amount of £4,000 the hospital offered to pay the outstanding £4,500 for the flight. I had no other option than to make my mark, on doing so my passport was confiscated and retained as collateral until the debt was repaid. I was issued with an emergency passport!     Text Box: My family and fiends came to see me as often as they could, though it was disheartening to see other patients with a constant flow of visitors it did give me time to concentrate on my own rehabilitation. I often sat at a table and repeatedly picking up a tennis ball and placing it on an up turned cup, this was to exercise my tenodesis grasp while increasing my dexterity and confidence in leaning forward in my wheelchair.   As I progressed through rehabilitation I was allowed to spend the occasional weekend at my brothers in Wales. It was fantastic to get to see my family outside the hospital environment and get some home cooked food. After visiting my brother and his family a few times my mate came and picked me up for a few clubbing weekends, only to be returned worse for wear. Whatever the state I was in it was far better than listening to the Salvation Army band outside the Spinal Injury Unit playing ‘Stand up for Jesus’ during Sunday lunch!   Text Box: I was discharged from hospital on 1st February 1999. I had been in hospital for 7½ months, 2 in the United States and 5½ months in Southport.   Ten days after being discharged my brother took me to the Airport to meet Rachel. My heart lifted as she came through the arrivals lounge until finally we were face to face after months of letters and telephone conversations expressing feelings for each other. The next day Rachel gave me a cuddle… it was below my level of sensation, I felt nothing, there was no comfort to be had and came as a devastating blow. As for Rachel, something didn't click, so it wasn't to be. I guess it was the typical nurse patient relationship, a fantasy that rarely works in reality. However, the time spent in hospital longing for a loving relationship with someone I had deep feelings for, it gave me something to build towards and most of all, gave me hope.   We still enjoyed the rest of her time over here, visiting London and York, though it wasn't all roses as I do required a lot of care, this caused a lot of frustration and anguish for both me and no doubt Rachel. I was always so self sufficient before my injury and it was a shock being out of hospital realising how many things I could no longer do.   I’m still in touch with Rachel, I’ve visited her several times, she’s married to Andy and has a cute son called Noah.   When Rachel returned to the States I was really depressed. I went out to a dance club, I just needed to have a good time and I didn't really care about what it took. It wasn't intentional, but I ended up having seizure from an over dose of amphetamines. I can't remember anything apart from my muscles tightening up then awakening in A&E feeling scared to death. One of my friends told me later I had stopped breathing. It was at that point I realised ‘I want to live’… and how could I be so selfish to do that to my friends!