I'm lucky. Yeah, OK, not something that generally goes with 'I broke my back and I'm now paralysed from the waist down', but for those of us with spinal cord injury, luck is every bit as relative as it is for anybody else.
In this context, I do consider myself lucky because I have not had any skin problems. By this I don't mean that I'm not going through a second adolescence of zits and self loathing, but rather I am referring to the spectre of the pressure sore. I have good circulation, and because of the near constant pain I am rarely sat still, which means that I don't have to think consciously about pressure relief (shifting your weight to allow good circulation to all parts of your skin).
I bring this up in part because of a posting on Andrew Farrow's excellent blog, drawing attention to the Your Turn campaign. It is also sobering to remember that it was a pressure sore that caused Christopher Reeve's death. Something that one would think of as avoidable.
The subject of the pressure sore also came up in conversation at the launch of the Stoke Mandeville Spinal Foundation, which aims to promote research into all the different aspects of living with SCI. The Foundation is seeking to establish a research institute at Stoke Mandeville.
During a conversation at the National Spinal Injuries Centre I discovered that pressure sores cost the NHS an estimated four billion pounds a year, with a significant portion of that cost going towards the treatment of people with spinal cord injury.
The problem for those with SCI is that we do not have a sensory signal to tell us when there's a problem. Once the has been a sore, the scar tissue means that the area is more susceptible to further skin breakdowns in the future.
When this is coupled with a lack of padding (muscle bulk) around the ischial tuberosities (bum-bones), and sitting in a wheelchair all day, and long healing times often resulting in months of bedrest?
You can see why I consider myself relatively lucky.
In this context, I do consider myself lucky because I have not had any skin problems. By this I don't mean that I'm not going through a second adolescence of zits and self loathing, but rather I am referring to the spectre of the pressure sore. I have good circulation, and because of the near constant pain I am rarely sat still, which means that I don't have to think consciously about pressure relief (shifting your weight to allow good circulation to all parts of your skin).
I bring this up in part because of a posting on Andrew Farrow's excellent blog, drawing attention to the Your Turn campaign. It is also sobering to remember that it was a pressure sore that caused Christopher Reeve's death. Something that one would think of as avoidable.
The subject of the pressure sore also came up in conversation at the launch of the Stoke Mandeville Spinal Foundation, which aims to promote research into all the different aspects of living with SCI. The Foundation is seeking to establish a research institute at Stoke Mandeville.
During a conversation at the National Spinal Injuries Centre I discovered that pressure sores cost the NHS an estimated four billion pounds a year, with a significant portion of that cost going towards the treatment of people with spinal cord injury.
The problem for those with SCI is that we do not have a sensory signal to tell us when there's a problem. Once the has been a sore, the scar tissue means that the area is more susceptible to further skin breakdowns in the future.
When this is coupled with a lack of padding (muscle bulk) around the ischial tuberosities (bum-bones), and sitting in a wheelchair all day, and long healing times often resulting in months of bedrest?
You can see why I consider myself relatively lucky.
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