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9. "An OAP at 18": My Friend The Computer
The computer entered my life at a crucial time and has, I believe, kept me sane. It did most definitely change my life.
I am not and never have been a very studious person. Although I liked school, I didn't try too hard. In fact I left school without taking any exams, so it came as quite a shock to me when I decided to go back to school. And I would not have to leave the house.
My condition had worsened over the last couple of years and I found myself becoming more and more bored as time went on. I was unable to leave the house on my own and could no longer do the housework. I had had to give up knitting, but I refused to lay down my embroidery. At times I can only manage a few stitches and none at all at other times. But it is a passion and I WILL NOT give it up. So I was left to read or twiddle my fingers.
However, on one of my regular visits in the hospital, I met a bed-ridden patient who was having French lessons. I learnt from Sister McBride that I could also learn in my own home. but what could I learn? My memory was bad and I could hardly write. So I made enquiries and someone from the S.C.T.D. came to visit me.
The Scottish Centre for the Tuition of the Disabled is an organisation which provides tutors, many of whom are disabled themselves to teach whatever subject you wish to learn. The service is free but membership is also available for a small charge. I explained my dilemma over my memory and my writing. After some thought she suggested learning word processing. I was aghast. I didn't own a computer let alone know how to use one. "No problem", I was told, "We'll lend you one for three months". I had often considered putting my thoughts down on paper. Here was my chance. My family live in the south of England so l write a lot of letters. She said that a word processor would be more appropriate than a typewriter because you can correct errors before you print and also, if I did write a book, then I would be able to store it on disc. I decided to give it a try.
The day after the computer arrived I was sent to bed with a kidney infection. Peter came home from work a few days later and was astonished when he found me reading a computer book in place of the usual love story. "Just a novelty, it will not last", I could hear him think. Over the next three months I found myself becoming more and more absorbed in word processing. The children were amused too. A selection of games were also lent to us. My tutor, who had Multiple Sclerosis, didn't know how to play the games so while she taught me word processing the children taught her how to play the games.
D-Day came and they took the computer away. I had already had an extension owing to the Christmas holidays. The centre had been in touch with the Parkinson's Disease Society to find out if they could help me with the cost of a computer. But I was getting withdrawal symptoms. I just could not wait any longer. Somehow I managed and the day the cheque arrived, I was beside myself with joy. Peter and I went to town to buy one. When we arrived home I was like a child with a new toy, I insisted that he connect it straight away. I even went in a huff when he told me to wait until after dinner. The waiting was unbearable.
Now that I owned a computer word processor of my own I thought I owed it to the charity that bought it for me to learn to use it properly. I had read in the local paper that the College of Further Education did open learning courses in the home. I enrolled in a word processing course and my tutor, Mrs Duncan, arrived to set me on my way. During the first lesson I got to know my way around the keyboard. Mrs Duncan set me some homework, learning which finger to use on which key. I became stressed. I could only use one finger, the others were useless, and I did not tell her. Peter told me not to worry and that it did not matter and just to carry on with one finger. However, I mastered the keys quite well. I passed my first exam and I felt so pleased with myself. But when the certificate came I was beside myself. I took it out of the envelope every five minutes and I showed it to everyone who came to the house. I just could not believe that 1, who could only type with one finger, had just passed an exam. The certificate, now framed, has pride of place on my bedroom wall together with another that I earned six months later for word processing I have just taken another exam, but I am awaiting the result. I still cannot believe that I have achieved all this.
At the beginning of 1988 the Scottish Centre for the Tuition of the Disabled sent me an application form for an essay competition. The F. C. Gillespie Memorial Essay Competition can be entered by any person who has problems with communication and uses an aid as a form of communication, and is run by the West of Scotland Health Board. Well, I had not written an essay in any shape or form since I left school. I was doubtful at first but Peter told me to give it a try. So that is what I did. I wrote about an amorous computer .
Electric Love
Sally lived in a small village with her computer and Sid lived with his computer about sixty miles away. Both were computer wizards. But strange things began to happen that neither of them could understand.
Sid's computer had a mind of its own and began to ignore his instructions. It found its way into the circuit of Sally's computer. Whenever Sally switched on her computer, messages of love and adoration would show up on her screen. No matter what she did she could not erase them. Sally was engaged to Sam, and she began to get worried when the messages threatened Sam's life. Sally confided in Sam but he just put it down to someone playing a practical joke.
Back at Sid's house the computer was getting very angry at his attempts to control it. The computer was completely besotted with Sally and nothing or no-one was going to get in its way. The computer began to devise a way to be rid of Sam.
Sally heard on the news the next day that a man had been electrocuted while using his computer. It was Sid. The messages came more and more and were becoming much more explicit. Sally confided in Sam once more, and Sam thought the only solution was to sell the computer and buy another. But to Sally's horror the messages still came through on her new computer. She became more and more afraid. The police could not find any reason for the computer behaving like this, neither could the country's top experts. It was a strange happening.
Sally disconnected her computer and decided to forget about it. Although Sid was dead his computer still managed to function. It blamed Sam for not getting through to Sally. So Sam had to go. His death was put down to natural causes.
Somehow the computer got through to Sally's computer, even though there was no power. It haunted her day and night, she got no peace at all. The computer told her that she belonged to it and no-one else would ever have the pleasure of loving her again. The only way out, it seemed to her, was to destroy her computer. So, after rummaging around in the cellar she found an axe and went back to her room. She smashed the computer to smithereens.
This act was to be her last. As the lights went out on her computer, so her heart took its final beat.
Imagine my surprise a few months later when I received a certificate of excellence, plus a copy of the book with the sixteen best entries, one of which was mine. What an achievment, one that I had never expected.
Now, with the aid of my word-processor, I am able to write to other sufferers of Parkinson's Disease. I have also got my own 'Ideas To Help' column and written articles in the newly formed YAPP&Rs magazine. YAPP&Rs is the new group for the young or the young-minded within the Parkinson's Disease Society (see chapter on Parkinson's Disease Society).
Fame, even without the fortune, was never on my list of achievements. But in the early part of 1988 three things happened to me. Firstly, I was approached by a newspaper journalist who had been given my name by the society. She was writing an article about the use of implant surgery in Parkinson's Disease. Incidentally, no implant surgery had been performed in this country at the time of this article. However the journalist interviewed me, asking questions about my life with the disease and whether or not I would consider surgery. A photograph of Peter, Stuart and me appeared alongside the article. It was a strange feeling seeing myself peering at me from the newspaper, and then having people telling me that they had seen me in the paper. Even my mother-in-law had several phone calls saying they had seen us in the paper. It was a bit disappointing when she told me that it was Peter that they had recognised.
The second happened in January. Mary Baker, the Welfare Director in the society, wrote me a letter informing me that she would like to nominate me for Disabled Scot Of The Year. But first she needed my permission. I wrote to her saying that I was highly honoured that she thought me worthy of such an honour and gave my permission. Unfortunately, in April, Mary informed me that I had not been selected but she went on to say that as far as she was concerned I was the Parkinson's Disabled Scot Of The Year. Of all the things that I have achieved this tops the list.
In April news broke of the first foetal cell transplant operation in Birmingham. Just days later Scottish Television contacted me. They were recording a women's debate on the subject of using cells from an aborted foetus. I was extremely nervous but everything went all right. My brother-in-law recorded it for me. Seeing myself on television was more of an experience than seeing myself in the newspaper.
I had an amazing thought just recently. I would probably never have achieved what I have with the computer nor would I have been in the paper or on the television or nominated for an award if I hadn't been cursed with this thing inside me.
- Back to 8. "An OAP at 18": Help
- Forward to "An OAP at 18": The Future
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