Tommy Collison

It’s not the restricted movement. Hey, can’t miss what you never had, and all that. Plus, I can’t ever see myself having played rugby or anything like that anyway, so I don’t feel I’m missing out on anything.

It’s the social aspect.

I remember, one of my strongest childhood memories, in fact, was the fact that shoes took so long to put on. I’d spend a good five minutes trying to fit my foot into my shoe, got really annoying. I’d be at a friend’s house, and they’d have a rule about no shoes on the carpet. 5 minutes spent flicking them off. Knowing kids, we could never decided what to do. Let’s watch TV! Yeah! So we’d do that for 15 minutes, then, being kids, our attention spans would begin to wain, and we’d require something new and (preferably) exciting to entertain us. Let’s go outside and play soccer! Before we even get into how CP and soccer just don’t go together, you’d have the 5 minutes putting back on your shoes.

And so it went on. Growing up, CP, for me, wasn’t really as I defined it in my Young Scientist project. I never really thought about it as ‘a disorder of movement’. I thought of it as something that made normal things hard. The shoes is a prime example, but there are others.

Schools (3 of them, primary #1 and 2, and Secondary) have been hugely supportive, which is useful, to say the least. :) They’re all for helping me and treating me the exact same as everyone else, which is what we (people with CP) are really striving for.

Done by student with CP in India

I remember, when I was very very little, and I guarantee she won’t remember, that’s how long it is, I went up to my Mum and I said to her:

“You know what? I’d rather have CP then for my sight, hearing, smell, touch and taste to be worse a bit.”

This pretty much sums up two things: my opinion of CP growing up and the fantastic handling of my CP by my parents.

Firstly, take a look at my wording. I say ‘have CP’. I don’t say ‘suffer from’ or even ‘live with’, I simply say ‘have’.

Secondly, this will sound awfully sycophantic*, and I have been wanting a new pony and all that, but, in my eyes, my parents are quite simply the greatest people alive.

The way they raised me, moulded my outlook on life and on my CP is something I’ll respect forever. They raised me with the view that, yeah, CP’s there, no denying that, but so what? You’re never gonna be the next Roy Keane, but lots won’t. You won’t be alone in that boat.

I’m 14 now. Thanks to them, there’s one thing I’m certain of, in these uncertain times:

While I may never lead a completely normal life, goddamnit, it’s worth reaching for that 90%.

If I was a pessimist, I could go through life lamenting the fact I miss that 10%. Or, I could be grateful I get that far.

I’ve spilt half my milk. Do I cry because only 1/2 of it remains? No, I be glad that I still have half of it left. Also, I’m glad I ever had a full glass of milk in the first place.

I’ll never lead a normal life. Would it be better not to lead any life?

Hell. No.

*

* sycophantic: (colloquially known as an ‘ass-kisser’) adj. “Attempting to vin favour by flattery”

P.S. If you’re interested in a PDF version of my Young Scientist report book, “What are the issues faced by children with Cerebral Palsy in mainstream education?” feel free to drop me an email, the address you’ll find on my contact page up top.