Dignity and how to lose it on the roof of a very tall building

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A more personal account from me this time, but which does relate to issues around diversity.

Since becoming severely disabled, the word “challenge” has taken on a whole new meaning. Things I used to do without giving them a second thought (having a shower, getting dressed, attending a business meeting) are now much more challenging. Some tasks (cutting my own toe nails, sitting at a table to eat a meal, walking round the shops) are now impossible altogether.

This can make a woman feel pretty useless at times, and I was keen to do something that would be a personal challenge, but that also might challenge other people’s perceptions of disabled people. My first choice, a tandem skydive, has thus far proved impossible. Not because of the jump, bizarrely (I’d be strapped to a tall strong bloke who would take the jolt of the landing – a sacrifice I’d be prepared to make!), but because I’m unable to sit in a ‘plane to get me up there. As yet I haven’t found a centre that will allow me to stand or lie in the ‘plane during the ascent, but I’m still working on it.

A friend suggested an abseil down a tall building. This didn’t appeal nearly as much – I don’t like heights and I can’t sit! But I was persuaded that if I wore a special harness I would be able to lie flat during the abseil and effectively “walk backwards” down the wall rather than sitting and pushing my feet against the wall like normal people. In the absence of any other challenges I am physically able to do, I reluctantly agreed.

I support a fabulous charity called Whizz Kidz (http://www.whizz-kidz.org.uk) and hoped that the abseil might also provide an opportunity to raise money for them. They provide equipment for children with mobility disabilities, giving them much more independence. Equipment and gadgets have really extended what I can do (back brace, pressure cushion, crutches etc), so this seemed a great cause.

So last month I bowled up to Fort Dunlop in Birmingham, to abseil down from the roof of the hotel – a mere ten stories! Usually they use a fixed structure with steps up and a solid platform to abseil from, but this was not available for me.

The day was very wet and quite windy, and the first challenge, after being strapped into my harness, was to get onto the top of the wall surrounding the roof. Andy, my long-suffering instructor, had brought stepladders, so with a great deal of help, and by this stage, persuasion (I hadn’t been too frightened until I suddenly realised I was going to be standing on a narrow, wet and slippy ledge before leaning back over 10 stories of nothing), I climbed up. To be honest, climbing up a ladder on solid ground, even with help, would be really difficult with my mobility issues, let alone atop a wet windy roof of a tall building!

Andy had put a bit of carpet on the ledge to stop the rope fraying on a metal lip at the end of it. “What do I hold on to?” I asked, in a panic. “Nothing,” he said. “But I’ll fall!” I said. “You won’t,” he said.

I’m not very good at standing these days, especially when my legs are shaking through fear and I’m trying to balance on a bit of wet carpet on top of a wet narrow ledge on top of a ten story building above a group of people watching from below. Anyway, I’m not sure if my legs gave way or the carpet slipped, but I did fall. For that split second I experienced terror like I’ve never felt before. Of course I was firmly roped to a couple of anchor points, and Andy, so I only fell a few feet before the rope caught me.

However, my novel way of getting over the edge meant I ended up in the very undignified position of being bent double with my feet somewhere above my ears. All the onlookers below could see was my backside, dangling precariously a long way above them. I tried not to panic, but failed. I couldn’t get back up over the ledge, but neither was I in a position to abseil down.

Andy let the rope go a few feet (sensibly ignoring my pleas NOT to let the rope go!) and through some kind of inhuman effort I managed to get my feet into the right position and push myself away from the wall. Remembering Andy’s advice to “lie back and spread my legs as far as I could” (charming!) I managed to abseil down the building with no further drama. The rope was wet, and therefore a bit slippy, and I could feel my nails digging into the palm of my hand as I gripped it, but a few minutes later (which only felt like about three years) my feet touched the floor and I was greeted with a much-needed glass of Champagne.

My two daughters and my partner tell me they are still having flashbacks about the moment I fell, and the accompanying scream, but I just have a feeling of satisfaction at having done something that really pushed my boundaries, physically and in terms of fear. And I’m dead chuffed to have raised around £2,000 for Whizz Kidz.

I’m still hoping to find a way to do a tandem skydive, and am desperately trying to think of the next challenge to work towards. But I’m pretty confident it won’t be another abseil ….

Jane

(Donations welcome here – http://www.justgiving.com/Jane-Hatton)

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About JaneHatton
Jane Hatton helps people with disabilities find a job through an Even Break. If you are an employer who is looking to recruit a talented individual from a Jane, then take a look at how you can here
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