‘Nothing dries quicker than a tear’

2011, I started a new normal life. My new life consisted of getting to know myself and my body. I had to adapt to not being able to walk, use my hands, dress myself, wash myself, go to the toilet, relying on an uncomfortable wheelchair to get me around the list could go on. Mine and my family’s new ‘normal’ life was a tormented struggle, which every day we are still building this life.

The pandemic cued the sort of screeching halt to life in our house as I’m sure it did in yours. Me being at high-risk, our new ’normal’ life then was stopped. I didn’t have the freedom I fought for since having my accident. My monotonous daily routine was thrown into the atmosphere and at the start I was angry. Like the majority of us life became restricted, suffocating to an extent and this was now OUR NEW NORMAL LIFE. I admit it, with my injury I have become a control freak. The little control I had of my life, felt taken. I couldn’t have the freedom of being in my car and getting a coffee, sounds pathetic but to me being out and about broke my day up, it was a distraction from the deep depression I could sometimes feel. From March, our new normal started. Instead of watching super simple songs for Theodora in the evening, we tuned in to daily government briefings and rising death rates. Our life started to get absorb with Covid talk and my anxiety went to another level. I was worried for our whole family and I could do absolutely nothing about it. Life in lockdown with my family could have been incredibly harder but to us we had our life line, our little girl Theodora. Having such a cheeky, happy little being filling these tedious months into times of enjoyment was a blessing. It’s funny looking back to when I spent the first five months of her life just waiting for her to get bigger. I was exhausted in a way I have never imagined possible, and yet every minute I can remember. I would tell myself ‘Carly you knew motherhood would be hard, but the bigger she gets, the more she can do, the easier it will be’. Oh, how wrong was I. In these months, I witnessed Theo growing and looking less like my sweet baby and more like my sweet toddler. In front of me I saw her changing and already needing me just a little less than she did last month. Or even yesterday. I saw her learning new skills and getting so excited and proud of herself, and I beamed with so much love, my heart felt it would burst out of my chest as she would accomplish each and every one of them! But I found myself struggling to adapt to not being able to do simple things with her, like walking with her, picking her up, bathing her etc. My mental state at times felt like it was crumbling, I was taking each day as a stepping stone. Still beaming with joy on the outside to see how clever and amazing our beautiful girl had become but breaking on the inside with the frustration of not being able to do simple tasks. I am still learning the weight of loving someone so much it becomes my entire identity, but I’m finding it hard knowing that one day, all too soon, I will no longer be needed, and Theo will no longer need me, and I will have to let her go and fly. But until then I will carry on snuggling into Theo and singing her Bob Marley “three Little birds before bedtime.”

Through these months, at times I felt I was looking at a different world, my family who I live with and my PA’s being incredibly safe and doing what we can to stay protected. Whilst seeing so many people on social media getting on with their lives, making me question what pandemic? I couldn’t believe how selfish people could be having social gatherings, parties not worrying about the stress the frontline workers were under and the death rate that was rising. I still can’t believe how people can’t follow the restrictions now, surely partying isn’t as important as someone’s life? Maybe, they haven’t got a vulnerable loved one? I get it, being at home is hard 24/7. When I first had my accident, I was in hospital for 8 months. I felt isolated, drowning in anxiety of not accepting my injury, not being able to move and suffocating with ‘what ifs’. Life is hard, but it would be harder if someone you knew fell seriously ill? I continue to be baffled by so many selfish people and to me I will never understand their frame of mind. But as a family we’ll just keep doing us!

9 years ago, I was adamant that I didn’t want to go into an electric wheelchair. I felt I had determination that one day I’ll experience the independence that I was seeking…pushing my wheelchair myself. When I left the spinal unit, I had little arm movement. During lockdown, I became a lot stronger and from struggling to push my chair to now following our daughter around the house with no trouble. It’s true what they say practice makes perfect. I know my achievements aren’t as great as some inspiring people who have a SCI but to me, it’s a great gift of achievement.  I have the independence I wished for. Adaptability is something we can all do extremely well. We adapt and turn the impossible into something possible which is then part of our everyday life. Sometimes life throws you a huge curve ball, even a global pandemic. But I know, that the things you’re going through right now, that thing you think you can’t live without or with, the thing that seems unreachable and impossible to come to terms with…you will. I’m always amazed at what I have adapted to, at times, right now being honest it’s challenging for me. Sadly, having a SCI seems never ending. My body changes physically and you think you won the battle but my god how wrong you could be. Days roll into one for me. I’ve cried out and within, I’ve questioned and argued with my feelings because I don’t have the answer to my situation, but I am promising myself not to give up. No matter the pain I’m in, it’s going to be ok. I’m sure I will talk about it one day, but for now times can be hard…. For everyone, but it can be a lot worse.

As this pandemic shifts, rolls and cracks beneath our world, I’m completely aware of the disaster it is creating, in the health of individuals, in our country’s economy, in systems and ways of life we’ve all only ever known as normal. Yet, I know the new normal is coming. Like most things, it will take time. But, if these 6 months can be any indicator of things, it will be so worth it in the end. I’m sure it will.

I think we’ll easily recognise when the world begins to really smile again. We all just need to be patient and It will totally be worth the effort and wait.