This was a standout year in my life in many respects. It is memorable to me for various reasons. Some of those memories were sad, but others were of an inspirational nature. Besides the fact that I had graduated to double figures in the age column, and was adapting to a new life with parents who lived at separate addresses, it was also the year that I first laid eyes on prototype sports cars through a coffee table book that my father brought home from a non-descript little village, a couple of hours by train outside of Paris, France called Le Mans. Apparently, some lunatic had got the idea in his head to race these cars for 24 hours, without stopping to draw breath. I was hooked! I decided, then and there, that I would make a point of seeing this spectacle for myself at least once before I kicked the bucket.
2016
Fast forward 33 years. I am now hastily approaching what most people would consider middle-age. I won’t lie, the years have been quite rough, as far as throwing up challenges goes. In 1990, all my dreams, my entire life to be precise, was thrown for a loop when I had a sports injury that left me a quadriplegic. It happened a month before my 17th birthday. I had been chosen to represent South Africa in trampoline gymnastics and, during a routine practice session, I landed on my head and dislocated a vertebrae in my neck. To say that I was scared would not be doing the sensation justice. I had just lost the use of my hands and my legs, and every ambition that I held most dear had now become a stark impossibility. I went, in an instant, from needing nobody to needing everyone. It is a very humbling sensation to have to experience.
Still, during my five months of rehabilitation, I became resolute to find my “plan B”, even if it took the rest of my life. All I had ever wanted to be was a surgeon. All my dreams entailed having a family, and seeing the world. How would I, the head without a body that obeyed, achieve any of these things? It was a long, hard road to get to where I am now. If you consider that only 1% of people with disabilities are employed in any way in South Africa, it may be termed a miracle that I have managed to keep myself financially independent to a large degree, and build a career for myself in digital marketing. Not only do I work, but, as it turns out, I am pretty good at what I do. Good enough that I have never had to send out a CV to find employment. My clients have come across me by word-of-mouth, according to the work I have done for others.
However, I digress. Getting back to my current predicament… In August of last year, I was promoted at work and given a reasonable salary increase. As I have done since the early 1990s, I was watching the Le Mans 24-hour on television and a thought occurred to me; how much would a trip to France actually cost, and was I now in a position to afford it? I did my homework on the Internet, and discovered that maybe, just maybe, one of my boyhood dreams could, in fact, be realised if I played my cards right, and had a little luck. I must make the point here, that for someone like myself to travel involves a great deal of planning, a great deal of help regarding logistics – I use a wheelchair, after all, and need a friend to double as an assistant, at the very least, to see to my requirements regarding washing, ablutions, feeding, and getting from point A to point B. Sadly, I do not have a motorised wheelchair.
So, to make it all happen, I started at the beginning which, surprisingly, required me to find accommodation, first and foremost, in Le Mans. Hotels are fully booked a year in advance, so the only option one really has is to find a local host, gracious enough to accommodate me for that week. After learning a smattering of French to make myself understood, and scouring Airbnb, I found a lovely old lady who agreed to book me with her, almost a year in advance, for the bargain price of around R 5000. Next, I set to work getting tickets for the event itself. Once again, more brushing up on my French, and after a few calls to France, a doctor’s note to prove my disability to the organisers, I managed to secure access to all the week’s happenings as well as tickets to the main event. This cost me €259, about R 4130 in the exchange rate of the day. Lastly, I decided that if I was going to do a trip to France, I should make it one to remember. I promptly set about looking for ways to extend my holiday, and spend a few days in Paris before I returned. Sadly, or fortunately, whichever way one looks at it, I could only secure leave from work until the end of that week, the Saturday to be precise, at which point I would have to make my way back home. Low and behold, things were looking up. I found a lovely place, close to the Nord du Gare train station, that was prepared to put me up, that is to say, myself, and my two friends who would be going along, for the bargain price of R 8530. All I needed now was to pay for my airfares, and get my visas. Blessings abounded! Doing a napkin calculation, I figured that it would take me until the end of February to save the amount required, and I would be free to then accumulate pocket money until my departure…
2017
As I suppose everyone knows, life has a way of throwing you curveballs when you least expect it. After everything I have endured in my life, after all the challenges I’ve had to overcome, one would think that I would never take anything for granted or assume everything as completed until I crossed that would-be finish line? Well, as it turns out, I probably still have a few things to learn.
In January I contracted an E. coli infection that saw me spend a few days in hospital. Even after I was discharged, this infection kept coming back, again and again. I was making trip after trip to the emergency room, and before I knew it, most of my hard-won savings had gone towards paying off some doctor’s Mercedes. I had already spent close to R 18,000, and time was now starting to tick away. What was I going to do? Never being one to simply give up, I applied for a personal loan from my bank, but that would only cover one airfare. I am one airfare, and about R10,000 short of having enough. At that point it was 25 April, and I didn't know what to do next. I contacted Air France via my travel agent. What happened next, to be frank, shocked me. I enquired about making a booking for myself at a seat in front of a bulkhead, since my right leg only bends to about 60°. Not only were they unable to assist me – they weren’t even prepared to try! The response to my enquiry was to upgrade to business class, something that would effectively have doubled the cost of my ticket.
So, here I was in a state of limbo, wondering if my dream would still come true. I decided to approach French news publications, in the hope that, perhaps, we would be able to assist each other. As I am sure you will agree, my story is noteworthy at the very least. Furthermore, I am someone who doesn’t take no for an answer very easily, and am prepared to do whatever it takes to get to where I want to be. My proposition to these publications was this: I would give them exclusive rights to my story for the purposes of publication, as well as the opportunity to follow me around on my adventure through France, from my arrival on 10 June, attending the Le Mans 24-hour event from 11 June to 18 June, as well as my stay in Paris until 24 June, at which point I would depart for home. I would make myself available for press conferences, telling my story, as well as making promotional appearances on behalf of these publications. If they required an interview, I would be happy to speak to one of their journalists from South Africa, prior to my departure as well. I had given them a very abbreviated summary of my story, and would have been happy to expound on it if the need arose. All I asked was that they publish my story in France, giving me the opportunity to raise the necessary funds to realise my boyhood dream.
I wasn't looking for charity, per se. I was prepared to do my part to make this a mutually beneficial arrangement between us...
One would think that after all this had already transpired, I would have seen the last of luck's cruel sense of humour? Apparently not. Just as I was teetering, wondering if I was deluding myself that I'd ever realize the dream I'd invested my heart and soul into, not to mention a large sum of non-refundable money, the straw finally landed which broke the camel's back. I learned that I had to be operated on in order to remove a bladder stone - and the operation failed! All the tea in China wasn't going to get me to France. My dream for 2017 was dead and buried.
I now have another operation to look forward to at the end of July. After that I may need a second operation to get my right knee bending again after I broke my leg paragliding. My life is comprised of the highest highs and the lowest lows. Regardless, I see it all as one big adventure but after all I've had to deal with in the last year, I finally had to admit to myself that I may need some help getting over the next hurdle. So, pride in my pocket, here I am asking you, whoever you are, to please find it in your heart to help me realize my biggest adventure yet. I believe one reaps what one sows 100 fold. I'm asking you to take a chance and sow into me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
DONATE to Paypal: will.gullum.scott@gmail.com
No comments:
Post a Comment