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Escribiendo con el ratón de boca
Writing with my mouth mouse in my room. October 2014

Nowadays I vegetate in Purgatory, paying for some unknown sins and waiting for a trial or an explanation that doesn’t come and never will. Remaining quadriplegic, seated in your wheelchair at your computer knowing that, out there, life continues for normal people is not living; it’s just being a witness to everyone else’s life.

But I’m not at least in Hell anymore. Little by little, I’m leaving it behind. I have the cramp; this intense and eternal neuropathic pain in my four limbs that only diminish when I fall asleep. As described by Philippe, the main character of Intouchables, “I feel like a steak of frozen meat in boiling oil: I can not feel the pain but I suffer”.

I arrived in Purgatory from Hell at Christmas 2010, when I started to breathe on my own. It was then, on my return to Mallorca, when I refused, at Sant Joan de Déu Hospital, against the opinion of the pulmonologists, remaining connected to my breathing machine. During 2 very long years, my nights were a calvary. The mucus that jelled in my throat drowned me and I never knew if I would be able to survive until the next morning. Desiring not to wake up again doesn’t take away the fear of dying and death by asphyxia has never been my best option.

At the end of 2013 I started eating by mouth. Until then I had been force-feeded by shots for gastrostomy, a tube connected to my stomach through an open hole in my belly. On June 30, the tracheotomy was finally closed, that damn hole in my throat, and since then I can speak with some normality, although not yet with much force because of paralysis, which also affects my chest muscles. A month later, they removed the tube from my stomach and I began feeling a little more like a person.

5 days a week I have a rehabilitation session with one of my 2 coaches: Luis Santamaría and Rafa Allegue. Thanks to them I’m not rigid like a stick, I haven’t lost the muscles of my lower limbs, I have managed to raise my left arm and I start to move with great effort my right hand and both legs. But I’ve got a long way to get out of Purgatory and return to Eden. Everything will come. If you want to be a witness, follow this blog, although I can’t promise anything.

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