Frozen In Time: The Inner World of Paralysis
by Nancy M. Turcich, NTS, RPP, RPE
pa-ral-y-sis -- noun -- the loss of the ability to move in part or most of the body.
Immobility, powerlessness, incapacity, debilitation.
Most people have never experienced paralysis. It may be something that is hard to grasp if
you are among the individuals who have had the privilege to walk everyday of your life. On
October 16, 1982 that gift was taken from me.
In order to analyze paralysis, we need to explore movement. Due to the autonomic nervous
system, our heart functions without conscious input. So do our lungs, our immune system, and our
brain. The limbs and much of the muscular system fall outside of this parameter, yet most of us
seemingly move without thought. Much of this ability is derived from practice. Our bodies have
done certain things millions of times and, therefore, it knows how to provoke movement without
much thought. Prior to my fall, automatic pilot seemed to control my physical actions. However,
once my body hit the surface of the rock crushing thoracic 4, 5, and 6, my unconscious movements
disappeared into thin air. It was as if my muscular mobility and knowledge was literally erased
from my memory bank.
The inability to freely engage my body without thought first occurred to me while I was
draped over a boulder and broken apart. After fully embodying horrific spinal pain I tried to
move but my body did not respond. I begged my friends for help. They refused. In time, the pain
was replaced by a swelling numbness, as if each cell was being pumped with an anesthetic fluid.
I still wanted to be free of the rock. I decided to try to shift myself again. If I concentrated
intently, I knew my body would progress--no response. Anger rose as I lay there aching to
separate my body from the boulder. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much intention
I put forth, it was futile. A split second prior to falling off the cliff I was able to
manipulate my body without conscious thought. In the next moment, I was unable to move even with
a Herculean desire. What a complete and utter loss!
In the hospital, as needles were plunged into my tissue to check for nerve damage, ghostly
sensations quaked deep inside of me. My body did little to convince my audience. The feelings
that I sensed below the surface could not penetrate the paralysis nor create visible signs of
motion. Pulling away from a painful experience such as touching a hot stove or getting poked
with a sharp object escaped my body’s capabilities at that time. Even though I knew my body was
being invaded by hospital personnel, my nerves were incapable of registering pain or turning
away from it. Paralysis left me second guessing all of my actions and reactions.
So, what’s it like not to have control over your movements or your sensations? For me, it
gave rise to my emotions, particularly ANGER! As the anger fizzled, sadness and sorrow appeared.
I grieved what I once was, what I was able to physically accomplish. There were moments when
paralysis was a blessing because just as pleasure didn’t register neither did pain.
Being paralyzed awakened my vulnerability. I had to trust people around me because I couldn’t
feel what was happening. My body was incapable of moving at will. I couldn’t even roll over in
bed. Personally, the combination of loss and lack of mobility wreaked havoc on my emotional
state.
The thing that replaced my ability to move freely was muscle spasms. Spasms are nasty
critters. They creep up on you and flail your body around without any regard for where you are
or what you might be doing. No matter how hard I tried to move, my body failed to respond. Yet,
spasms could make my legs jump in the air with little provocation. The spasms left me with the
impression that they were discharging the discomfort from the needles previously submerged into
my skin. In my eyes, one positive aspect of muscle spasms was that they showed signs of life
within my nervous system.
In the hospital, after weeks of laying flat on my back, the ability to sit up escaped me. To
stay seated without passing out or throwing up was quite a feat. On an incline board, waves of
nausea came just as I reached for the next degree of a vertical stance. Ice packs around my neck
and cool towels resting on my forehead kept my bile at bay. Yet, once I was able to sit in a
chair unassisted, my stamina waned. With my entire torso surrounded in plaster, I was unable to
remain seated for long.
Paralysis took me back in time. It was as if I was an infant residing in a grown up body. In
physical therapy, movements were broken down into segments so that I could relearn how to
mobilize my body again. Sometimes completing one task took days or weeks to accomplish. Baby
steps to say the least. The strength to go on was derived from my desire to reclaim my life. My
rehab program became all-encompassing, and it drove me beyond the feelings that it was a losing
battle. A "normal life" was the carrot dangling just beyond my reach. Physical therapy helped to
narrow the gap and I pushed myself each and every day.
Paralysis is a real mind game. Whether you regain full mobility or you remain in a wheelchair
or bedridden, you have to keep moving forward in your mind. Achieving that is a goal worth
striving toward.
So what’s it like to be paralyzed? It’s no walk in the park!!! The word that seems to
encapsulate that time in my life is CHALLENGING--every moment of every day.
For more details about holistic therapy and Nancy’s experience with healing refer to her book
"Finding My Way From Paralysis To A Rich, Full Life."
Reproduction of articles are permitted by Nancy M. Turcich, NTS, RPP, RPE, author and
holistic bodyworker, with acknowledgments and credentials included.
www.naturalmassagetherapy.com
For further information or questions, please contact Nancy @ Natural Massage Therapy at
928-717-1251, nmt1@naturalmassagetherapy.com
.
All articles are for informational/educational purposes only. This information does not take
the place of current treatment plans nor medications prescribed. Always consult your physician
to determine the most beneficial course of treatment for your individual needs. |
