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Home / Thoughts / Looks just don’t cut it.

Looks just don’t cut it.

Written by Sean on Tuesday, July 17, 2007

I took photos of myself, showing my legs, for a friend. Looking at those photos, I realised that I have gained atrophy back in my legs to a somewhat satisfying point. They look about half as atrophied as I’d really like them. But even though they are starting to look right again, my legs aren’t paralysed, are they? Looks are fine, but they are only part of the need.

My atrophied legs

As you can see on the photo, my calves are thin, and the muscle itself is flacid enough to bunch up when pressure is applied behind it. There’s the start of a dimple in my thigh, which is more visible in some side views, but I won’t show those here… My knees are starting to protrude nicely. In fact, I probably have more atrophy than some paras who have severe muscle spasms.

I guess the only two ways to get more atrophy would be to either be a para (and even that wouldn’t guarantee anything, but I’d take being actually paralysed over more atrophy), or would be to spend many, many weeks in two long leg casts. But that’s not about to happen either, my partner wouldn’t stand for it. She didn’t particularly like the atrophy at first, and was glad I got muscle mass back. She hasn’t commented on the return of atrophy, probably she hasn’t noticed.

Yet even "just" this level of atrophy makes me feel good in ways that most "normal" people would think completely messed up. I’m proud of my atrophied legs. How silly is that? But that’s not the point here.

I had reached this point before, and then for a variety of reasons, the muscles "grew" back. This proved me that letting your legs atrophy past being able to use them is a bit of a myth. It also rather bummed me out. But spending more time in the chair slowly brought me back to this state. I didn’t really notice it until I saw those photos of myself.

And I looked at the photos and suddenly the sense of longing was so overwhelming I had knots in my stomach.

I’ve been on the verge of tears for the last several hours, thinking about it. Thinking about how much I need this.

If looks were enough, I’d be there. I pass as a para, no worries. I’ve been seen in my bathing suit by many people with disabilities, I’ve been seen transferring, moving around, you name it. I’ve got the looks down path. But looks just aren’t enough.

I don’t really see the point to this life of mine. It’s not all bad (well, right now it’s pretty shitty with a nasty flu, but that’s beside the point). There are indeed good aspects and good things going on in my life. But these things seem pointless, unimportant. It’s like adding salt and seasoning to a stew. But right now, life without paralysis, well, it’s a stew without any meat. And without any vegetables. So it’s a bit of flavoured soupy water. And it’s been a long steady diet of the same. Maybe I’ll go on a hunger strike.

Tags: Legs, Atrophy, Paralysis, Wheelchair, Look, Disabilities