Being me: what it really means to be disabled

Louise Page, who has had four amputations, explains how her disability hasn't changed her essential feeling of who she is.

It wasn’t until I started having bits of me cut off, that I truly understood what it meant to be a disabled person.

I remember one day, after one of my four amputations, that I said to my Dad, “you know, they can keep cutting bits of me away, but I’ll still be me”. And he instantly started to cry. That wasn’t my intention, to make my dad cry. But I think it was then that I genuinely understood physical disability.

When you first have an amputation, you have to wait eight weeks for the wound to heal and the swelling to go down before you can be fitted with a prosthetic. And then of course, you need to learn to walk with it. And at first, you can’t wear it all the time as your body needs to adjust to weight bearing on something that wasn’t designed for bearing the weight of your full body (ie a cut off tibia or femur). So of course there are lots of times you have to go out in public with crutches and a missing leg.

And that means people staring, some people do a double-take, some people try to look very subtly by just looking sideways, some properly stare for a while, I even once had a lady tap her friend on the shoulder and point at me. My approach has always been to ignore the staring. My mum told me I should give everyone who looks a big smile, but maybe I’m not as nice as she is! I just tell myself that I would do the same thing. If we see someone who looks different in any way – excessively thin or fat, or with crazily dyed hair or bad style (one I know I have to confess to… see, I am mean!), then we can’t help staring. It’s just human nature.  So I’ve decided I can handle it, though to be honest I wish it wouldn’t happen…

The picture above is me during my second year of chemo just after first amputation, Summer 2008

Anyway, the point I was making was that I’m still the same Louise. Weirdly people treat you as a hero or as someone who is especially brave, when you have cancer and/or a disability, especially one that makes dramatic visible changes to your body. And we all seem to think cancer patients will discover the true meaning of what’s important in life. And yes, I have (though I hope I knew that beforehand already). But we also don’t stop being ourselves. I carried on with my Vogue subscription and my addiction to shoes (yes shoes! An amputee who loves shoes… how crazy is that?!) and of course… the handbags (some of you will be breathing a knowing sigh…). But I also carried on being Louise. Wanting to see friends, get dressed up to go out for dinner, read books, go to the theatre, watch trashy TV…

So my disability didn’t change me at all, apart from making walking, carrying things, getting dressed, dancing, walking on a beach, balancing on a bus, dancing, sitting (I could go on forever but I won’t) a hell of a lot harder. I’ve always been me throughout.  And I’ve always tried really hard to make sure everyone around me sees and knows that.

And of course every one of us is different and wants different things from life, so I can only speak for myself. And I think that’s why Diana (my boss at Thistle) values me – because I understand. I just hope after reading this, more people will understand this now too. I may have a disability, but I don’t consider myself disabled (the parking badge comes in very handy though!).  I’m just Louise and no matter what has happened or is yet to happen, I always will be.

This blog was first published on alancainsley.wordpress.com and is reproduced here with permission

Louise. All pictures reproduced with her permission
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How Theresa May laid a trap for herself on the immigration target

When Home Secretary, she insisted on keeping foreign students in the figures – causing a headache for herself today.

When Home Secretary, Theresa May insisted that foreign students should continue to be counted in the overall immigration figures. Some cabinet colleagues, including then Business Secretary Vince Cable and Chancellor George Osborne wanted to reverse this. It was economically illiterate. Current ministers, like the Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson, Chancellor Philip Hammond and Home Secretary Amber Rudd, also want foreign students exempted from the total.

David Cameron’s government aimed to cut immigration figures – including overseas students in that aim meant trying to limit one of the UK’s crucial financial resources. They are worth £25bn to the UK economy, and their fees make up 14 per cent of total university income. And the impact is not just financial – welcoming foreign students is diplomatically and culturally key to Britain’s reputation and its relationship with the rest of the world too. Even more important now Brexit is on its way.

But they stayed in the figures – a situation that, along with counterproductive visa restrictions also introduced by May’s old department, put a lot of foreign students off studying here. For example, there has been a 44 per cent decrease in the number of Indian students coming to Britain to study in the last five years.

Now May’s stubbornness on the migration figures appears to have caught up with her. The Times has revealed that the Prime Minister is ready to “soften her longstanding opposition to taking foreign students out of immigration totals”. It reports that she will offer to change the way the numbers are calculated.

Why the u-turn? No 10 says the concession is to ensure the Higher and Research Bill, key university legislation, can pass due to a Lords amendment urging the government not to count students as “long-term migrants” for “public policy purposes”.

But it will also be a factor in May’s manifesto pledge (and continuation of Cameron’s promise) to cut immigration to the “tens of thousands”. Until today, ministers had been unclear about whether this would be in the manifesto.

Now her u-turn on student figures is being seized upon by opposition parties as “massaging” the migration figures to meet her target. An accusation for which May only has herself, and her steadfast politicising of immigration, to blame.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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