Cane and able

On Monday, July 23, 1984, Stephen Attard was hit by a blinding migraine. After a weekend playing waterpolo in Gozo he was exhausted, but he still managed to persuade his father/boss to leave the Marsa engineering office early.

At about 3 p.m., with a warning from his dad to drive slowly, he got into his Datsun Cherry and headed for the family's summer residence in Qawra.

Just as he went past the roundabout in Targa Gap, he lost control of the car, mounted the three-foot pavement and plunged a height of over one storey into an area now occupied by villas.

"I don't know if I blanked out or whether I was blinded by the sun. Nobody knows exactly what happened," he said, admitting that all his memories have been formed from what his family told him.

The car was smashed and he was flung out into the field. At 4 p.m. his parents received a phone call from Mr Attard's uncle, who happened to be passing by, urging them to rush to hospital.

When they saw their son in the hospital's emergency department, he looked peacefully asleep, without a scratch, bloody injuries or bruises. But the tranquil appearance disguised the extensive head injuries that left Mr Attard with physical disabilities, post-accident amnesia, plus memory and coordination impairment.

The dire prognosis was that he would not survive the ordeal, or if he did he would remain a "vegetable" for life.

Now 44, it's hard to imagine that he was a write-off. Getting up to shake hands, he leans heavily on a wooden walking cane, but other than that it's impossible to guess what he, and his family, have been through.

At first he shyly averts his gaze, but as the conversation flows, he looks up his green eyes flash with life, darkening over at times when he reflects on how the past 23 years have left a bad taste in his mouth.

However, he is trying to channel his negative feelings into something constructive.

Tomorrow, just one day before the anniversary of the tragic incident, he will put on his swimming shorts to swim - without any aids - the stretch between Comino and Cirkewwa/Marfa.

The swim, which will start at about 3 p.m. and run till 7 p.m., is intended to raise money for the Land Group (Living Ability Nor Disability).

His 67-year-old mother Margaret will be swimming alongside.

What is driving his passion most is that he wants to change society's perceptions on disabilities.

"I do not consider myself to be disabled, so when people look on this challenge as a mammoth achievement for me it's no big deal," he said, running his fingers through the kitchen table's doily as he concentrated on his train of thought.

"I want to show society that those people they view as 'disabled' can do some things that 'normal' people are not able to do.

"Attitudes towards persons with disabilities have improved tremendously but there are still those who don't look at you as a human being," he said.

On most days, Mr Attard shrugs these frustrations and focuses on swimming, a sport he adores. He fits in at least three sessions a week - at his favourite haunt in Barracuda, St Paul's Bay in summer, and the National Pool in winter.

With the help of his dedicated mother, who assists him every step of the way, right up to the ladder, he relishes the moment his feet touch the water.

"When in the sea I feel as strong as a rod of steel. I am freed from the chains that shackle me on land; like a bird freed from its cage," he said, with a smile, adding that he can spend up to four hours in the sea, without ever tiring out.

When the therapy first started many years ago, Mr Attard had to relearn everything from scratch. It was back to the Ladybird books and learning how to walk.

"I used to dread the therapy appointments. I needed three helpers in the water with me. Now I'm on my own and the sea gives me the strength and energy to go on."

To this day, Mr Attard receives regular physiotherapy and visits a psychologist, who gives me the drive to face life with the right spirit.

Prior to the accident, Mr Attard was an all-round, outdoor sportsman who loved playing football, and waterpolo. Now he has to settle for watching the games on television.

"I'm a big fan of Juventus and if there are three games, I'll watch four," he said, with a smile.

He spends hours on the internet, compiling league tables and following the latest news updates about his team. He also helps out at the Attard parish church and is an active member on the committee of Barracudas waterpolo pitch.

He admits that sometimes he just wishes to be able to go somewhere on his own, without the need to depend on his parents or friends.

"I dream of being able to get rid of the walking stick. The first step was eliminating the wheelchair, so now it's not if but when," he said.

"The only time I wouldn't mind using the walking stick is at Disneyland, because the last time we went there we got to jump the queues, more than a 30-minute wait," he said laughing.

His legs are very fit and muscled but his brain is not sending out the right messages that allow him to walk freely, without stumbling.

The first thing he would do once he gets rid of the walking stick is to go to the Church of Our Lady of Miracles, in Lija, to thank the Madonna for granting his wish.

"The next thing I would do is go to knock on the door of those who never believed in me... even if it's midnight," he said, as his father, Joseph, smiled and warned that since the accident his son had lost all sense of inhibitions and become very blunt and straight to the point.

Mr Attard shrugged his shoulders and smiled, saying he preferred being honest and upfront with people.

Apart from football and swimming, he also spends many hours playing chess against the computer. A notebook lies on top of the board, listing the number of times he beat the computer in a challenge.

Scraps of paper are taped to the board, listing things he has to remember to do. He is very aware that his memory tends to play tricks so he tries to beat this problem by leaving notes everywhere... even when he has to change his razor blades next.

"The notes help me to keep my life in order. When a note goes missing, things can go out of sync," he said.

Mulling on his next challenge, Mr Attard said he would love to one day swim from Gozo to Malta, though his mother shudders at the thought of "big fish" lurking about.

"I don't mind if it eats me... As long as it doesn't attack my mother," he adds, turning to face her with a loving look in his eyes.

Those who wish to support Mr Attard's cause can send a donation to the HSBC account 075038646050 or a cheque payable to Living Ability Not Disability, c/o St Anthony Hse, E.H. Furse Street, Msida.