Parts 1 and 2 are available by clicking the numbers.
Initially, the Graded Exercise Therapy worked well, but as time progressed it became apparent that something had gone awry. I was being pressured to increase the exercise level too quickly, and the star jumps began to cause intense jarring pains along my spine. My muscles began to ache more than they had before the therapy and my fatigue increased seemingly exponentially. Upon returning to the physiotherapist, I was advised to stop the exercises, and was also informed that I would probably need to start using a wheelchair when I left the house. Even after stopping the exercises, the pain, fatigue, and dizziness continued to worsen, until the state in which I currently live today was reached, and I could no longer walk outside. Being too weak to push my own wheelchair, and unable to afford a powered one, I had to rely on my parents every time I left the house and had no independence.
It took three months of arguing with my school before I was permitted to use my wheelchair in there, making me more and more ill during this time. I was also denied an assistant to push my wheelchair around school and relied on the support of my peers, including those who had previously bullied me, to help me obtain an education. Fortunately after another few months, the school realised their mistake, and when I started my A-levels I was given the support I needed.
I saved up for over a year, and eventually managed to by a second-hand powered wheelchair for over £1,000. It was in this wheelchair that I completed my A-levels, and I gained the necessary independence I needed to attend university. Unfortunately, this wheelchair had air-filled tires, and with the inevitability of death and taxes, I eventually suffered a puncture. My poor wheelchair was unusable and too expensive to repair, so I ended up with a new one, this time a brand new one with solid tires.
Even after so many years of medics poking and prodding me, and modifying my medication to treat my symptoms, only one thing serves to alleviate the pain temporarily; hydrotherapy. I regularly visit the local swimming pool, where I perform gentle stretches and exercises, and even swim a little. The water removes the pressure from my joints, and for a few hours after exiting in the pool, I am reminded of what life felt like prior to the meningitis. For the remainder of my time I am disabled and pain-stricken, and while this is inevitably disheartening, there is still an element of hope in my life.
Medical research continues to improve the understanding and treatment of CFS, and without using a wheelchair, I would never have met my two best friends. One is disabled herself which naturally brought us together, and the other got run over (by accident) when he tried to get between me and pizza. Similarly, I would not have met Jarred, my beloved partner-in-crime, who I only met after choosing to remain in university accommodation due to its high standard of accessibility. It is even plausible that I would not have attended university, as the meningitis made me realise how precious life is, motivating me to make the most of it by getting an education. Of course, this blog would not exist were it not for a virus finding my brain tasty.
Disability is not the life sentence I thought it would be, and has enriched and improved my time more than I could ever have imagined, so that I live a full and happy life on wheels.
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