When we plunge into a domain of study, there is often a reason. I have always had a talent for education even before beginning my studies in psychology. I have the gift to explain, the empathy to bring you at your best level, the madness to introduce you in a world where the impossible becomes possible, the humor to make you take the drama out of your life, …

This gift has been sharpened with the circumstances of  life. One of these circumstances is the story of a chair.

It is the story of this handsome boy, my cousin. He often came to our place. He felt comfortable there. He was  full of humor and love. My mother treated him as her son because he grew up with my brother of the same age and was guarded by my mother during his young age. My mother taught to him to make his nights as baby and gave him feeding-bottles.

At the age of 19, he was behind the wheel of a car and had a serious accident. This day, my brother was with him. By ease, both cousins were transported in different hospitals. We made emergency at the hospital where my brother was. He had nothing serious: a drilled lung, a broken rib, … What about the cousin?

The cousin was placed under coma to stabilize him and preserve his vital organs. I had to announce the news to my brother, telling him that he does not have to feel guilty to be still alive and with his functional legs, that God donated him life, that he has to honor it  every day, …

A few weeks later, my cousin woke up. But my cousin will never walk again. He lost a part of his skills. He received a reeducation to learn again how to speak, how to work his memory and how to be able to reuse his hands (one of them remained very limited in its mobility),… He lost his long-term memory. Fortunately for him, he does not remember the accident.

My cousin remains for me the best of my cousins because he always had the right actions. A few months after that, the father of my cousin died from a generalized cancer. My aunt ended up alone with a son who weighs two times her weight, who wears diapers, and who will remain paraplegic for the rest of his life.

Fortunately for my aunt, we live in Belgium, a country known for its quality of services as for the handicap. Belgium is a country which serves parents and their children of France and the Luxembourg. Belgium is a country where the French people and the Luxemburgers come to study in paramedical and medical domain. Belgium is a creative country where health services are of quality.

Indeed, my cousin benefited from reeducation at hospital. Since he was settled at his home, an nurse has been coming to change his diapers and to take care of him,… A physiotherapist has coming to give him a treatment. A mini bus is picking him up at home to bring him to activities which allow him to entail his brain and not to lose skills. My cousin benefits from a small crane which allows him to move from his bed to a chair. And conversely. My cousin has quality cares and health insurance which allows it.

From now on, he moves in wheelchair. But he has kept his beautiful smile and his sense of humor which he holds moreover of his father.

It is the story of a wheelchair which made me more sensitive to the question of  handicap and the pain of families and children.

I dream about a world where every one will have the best services of the world. I think that the strength of a country is not only of its economic growth but also the quality of its system and health services.

Nobody is in shelters of  handicap. Nobody is in shelters of suffering. Let nobody play with your country, let nobody play with your sick people, join to the best ones, entrust your children to those who have a soul, to those who know the value of life, to those who have expertise while having empathy, to those who will bring a result, …

It was the story of a wheelchair which could be yours or that of a member of your family. Now, what are you going to do of it?

Nawale Harchaoui, Psychopedagogist and Psychomotor Therapist, Belgium.