NSCIA Columnists > Gary Karp
ShareGettin' Old
Having just reached 50 - 31 plus years after breaking my back at T12 - the question of what's in store for my body is taking on an increasing poignancy.
Aging with disability has become quite a hot topic on the agenda of rehab researchers these days. And with good cause, as more and more wheelers turn up with strained shoulders, carpal tunnel syndrome, spines twisted into odd curves, respiratory and kidney and skin issues, and the like.
Getting' old gives everyone that internal twinge, the fear of lost capacity and of becoming dependant on others. Those of us with a spinal cord injury understandably wonder if we've taken a giant step in that direction now that we spend our days identified with the very icon of age and decline - the wheelchair.
Many people with polio - with no choice but to face an almost completely inaccessible world with two-ton wheelchairs or strutting around on braces and crutches - are facing "post-polio."
Their remaining muscle and nervous system capacity just gave out to the excessive exertions of life in that obstacle course of a world. As of my injury in 1973, I don't remember seeing many people out and about on wheels. And no wonder.
Or take our dear friend Barry Corbet, former editor of New Mobility magazine who just recently passed. He was an "early generation" SCI paraplegic who got out there and lived large, then his shoulders gave out. No more manual chair, no more transfers.
So - bringing the adaptive skills disability gives us - he got some power wheels and installed a lift system that wound from bed to toilet to shower so he could stay in his own house.
Now we're truly a first ever generation in human history where so many wheelers are functioning at so high a level of activity and independence in daily life. We're getting out there in the newly accessible built environment, we're going to school, having careers and families, traveling and recreating. Are we pushing it too hard, literally? Are our bodies simply not up to what it takes to live as large as we want?
I think not. I think this is another example of how something new in the human story turns out to have some risks that need to be considered. Who knew people could be injured at the computer?
Who knew asbestos would cause cancer? We are simply at that critical moment of having to realize that wheeling through life without depleting or injuring ourselves involves another skill set and a little helpful engineering and design.
Part of the problem is already solved. 31 years ago I started out with one of those "tank" wheelchairs (as we old geezers are wont to call them). Were I still pushing that thing around there's little doubt I'd have a track winding through my house, too.
Titanium to the rescue! Likewise for power chairs with tilt and recline, alternating pressure cushions, and customized seating systems. So is this about the objective process of aging, or is it about having the right tools and techniques?
In other words, the right chair, properly configured, in the hands of a skilled user will go a long way to prevent the twisted skeleton, trashed shoulders, and broken skin which has been appearing in research statistics.
And just as aging well requires any and everybody to take good care of themselves, it's even more true for someone with SCI. The added risks of kidney disease, cardiovascular strain, circulatory challenges, skin breakdown, and bladder cancer behoove us all the more to take better care of ourselves. Being overweight, overstressed, and generally out of shape is a bad strategy in any case, but especially for us.
This is what I expect will be the lessons of the research, once the statistics have all lined up in the tables. We must treasure our bodies, keep them resilient, use them wisely. I expect that aging with disability is far more a matter of good management than succumbing to the inevitably accelerated decline we fear.