In Or Out

Wow! This is life, running, jumping, flying free. Composing each step, each word without pause. For eight hours I am me - out there cherishing the world and all it's richest offerings. It's soon over and I'm trapped again. Confined to my broken body. In here, in this chair, my world relies upon the kindness - the pity of others.

Excitement and love preempted the months before I was born. Two people, in love, awaiting the arrival of their firstborn. Soon after the initial warm embraces and first photographs doctors noticed my differences.

"Cerebral Palsy. Quadriplegic."

Haunting words. First time parents. Scared, unknowingly they turned their backs.

"We can't cope."

Grace. She is Grace. Full of Grace. My Grandmother. I am hers, she is mine. Her burden is me. Her joy is me. Her life is me! Thank goodness for Grace.

Each day I am sent off to school. Smartly dressed, hair neatly brushed, I am Grace's pride and joy. Limitless love flows between us, but I am not stupid. What she has given up for me is unmeasurable. Her marriage, her job, her life. She is devoted to me. Tom. Her grandson, her everything.

For me, the days are long. They are boring. Teachers overlook me. I am a problem. In this chair, in this classroom. My classmates, well, some love me, some hate me. I cannot join in with the playground football matches or chasing games, though I try.

"Move out the way Tom."

The thrill of the breeze on my face exhilarates me until the bell rings. Then, in I trundle, last in the line, enjoying my final minutes of freedom. The teaching assistants hunt me down.

"Tom, time for the toilet."

I'm eleven years old for God's sake. I can't do it without their help, no matter how hard I try. In the room, my room, Tom's Room, I have to go. Watched by women, helped by women. Trapped in my broken body. This is the worst part. I smile, I joke, I laugh. This stupid body will not get me down.

Afternoon inches by, slowly. For me time passes begrudgingly. Children are completing their collages, stories, mathematics investigations. Completion? What is that? I don't complete tasks. I start them, but my gnarled fingers do not let me finish. My brain bursts with ideas that will never be heard or seen. I am overlooked, a problem to those from whom I am supposed to learn.

My mind wanders in the afternoon. I fade, my body working against me so that I feel exhausted.

"Tom, wake up!"

My teacher admonishes my weariness unaware of how my brain has to keep control of my spasms, of my muscle tone as well as trying to learn my times tables, my spellings and whatever else is expected of me that day.

3.20pm. I am released. Out of here. Grace awaits my departure, my arrival back in to her care. She knows me, knows what I need, what I want, without having to even ask. Stroking my head I am reassured. Her love knows no bounds, for that I am lucky.

In the car, in to the house. I don't get to go out with friends. If I do, they don't answer the door. Who wants to be seen with the kid in the wheelchair? I understand, but it hurts, it stings. Up here, in my head, I am just the same as anyone. Appearances can certainly be deceiving.

Lifted in to my bed, I feel an overwhelming sense of calm. It is time. Time to be me, to be free, to be out of that God damned chair! Weariness takes hold and despite my awkward position I begin to drift, to leave go of the day and get out of my chair.

My dreams take me to magical lands where I defeat the beasts. I fall in love with, Charlotte, the prettiest girl in my class and she loves me back! Soaring over the land I save shipwrecked princes and injured soldiers. Running the home straight in the Olympics gives me my biggest thrill, the crowd cheering me on towards glory. Sleep allows freedom, I am out of my chair, my body is free. This is when I am at my happiest, where anything is possible. I look forward to the day where my dreams do not cease.