What’s more dangerous – abseiling down a tall building, wearing knickers or failing to read instructions? (not for the faint-hearted)

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Well, surprisingly, I’m in the position of having done all three recently, so I feel I have a certain degree of credibility in answering this question.

In a previous blog (link) I related how my abseil for charity didn’t go quite according to plan, when I slipped off the ledge at the top, ten stories up (for those who didn’t read the blog – no harm was done – I was, of course, securely tied by ropes etc.)

For someone with pretty severe disabilities, abseiling down the Fort Dunlop building was considered a little foolhardy by many of my friends and family. And yet, despite the slip, after three or four days the pain levels were back to normal and the sense of achievement (and donation to charity) live on, so I have no regrets at all.

However, I’ve done something much more reckless since then. Well, two things. Both of which I have heartily regretted. The first was – wait for it – trying to put a pair of knickers on. I did warn you it was dangerous. I do find getting dressed difficult, due to the disability, but I’ve managed to successfully get myself inside a pair of thongs a number of times in the past with no problem. Not this time. It felt like the whole left lower part of my body gave way and I fell (thankfully onto the bed right next to me). It turns out I’d severely damaged one of my sacro iliac joints (a joint which isn’t designed to move, but obviously had). I’m telling you now – it’s commando for me from now on. If not naturism.

Brave and foolhardy ‘tho trying to get dressed was, I surpassed even that a couple of weeks later. At the time, the pain was so bad that had the physio suggested sawing my left leg off with a blunt and rusty knife I’d have gone for it. As it was, he just suggested very strong anti-spasmodic muscle relaxant drugs and increased morphine – far less dangerous than lopping my leg off, you might be thinking.

So, there I am, lying in bed with a very tight physio belt (in lieu of a plaster cast) around my hips, not moving. I’m actually doing very little at all other than necking these drugs to try and cope with the pain. I’ve been on morphine occasionally for six years but daily for the last 18 months or so. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, the drugs were doing their stuff – such a high dose of both was knocking the edge off the pain and giving me quite a pleasant floaty feeling. Apparently I’ve had entire conversations with people during that fortnight that I have no recollection of (hope I didn’t say anything rude!). Anyway, I realised, somewhere in the fug I was now engulfed in, that it was necessary for me to get back to work (even from home), and that these drugs were preventing me from stringing two coherent thoughts together, let alone function enough to, say, remember what my own name was. So I did the obvious thing. I stopped taking them. Just like that. Overnight.

It turns out that had I read the instructions on the first set (the anti-spasmodic lot) I would have realised that the very last thing to do is come off these quickly. The dosage has to be lowered very slowly over a long period of time under the supervision of the doctor. But of course I hadn’t read the instructions, had I?

Prior to this experience I didn’t believe there was actually a place called Hell, but believe me, there is. I’ve been there. For four days I struggled with symptoms varying from predictable ones, like shivering with cold one minute and melting with heat the next, feeling sick, faint, disorientated and so on. But also odd ones, like having the most vile taste in my mouth and horrible smell in my nose all the time. Even something innocuous like an apple smelt putrid and tasted like pure poison. And being very emotional and weepy and having horrific dreams which I wasn’t sure were dreams, and then I’d wake up and the nightmare would be real.

When the doctor finally visited he said I was going through an extreme version of cold turkey. He was shocked, but in my defence said he had known one or two other people stupid enough to have done the same. This is not an experience I would wish on anyone – the original pain, the additional pain of the subluxation of a further joint, with little pain relief and a shedload of severe, weird withdrawal symptoms. (Well, maybe my father, were he still alive, but certainly no-one else)

Anyway, the definitive answer to the opening question is that out of abseiling down a 10 story building in pouring rain, wearing knickers and not reading instructions, by far the least dangerous is the abseiling.

So, what did I learn?

1. Extreme sports are fine, even for someone as disabled as me

2. Trying to put thongs on can rob you of a month (so far) of your life

3. Read the bl**dy instructions if you’re taking strong drugs!

Jane

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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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