Standing up to paralysis

Simply going to the toilet has proved to be a “nightmare” for Maltese-Australian Anthony Masterson, who returned home from Down Under on his first trip since he lost his mobility in an accident two years ago.

“Not many local restaurants cater for people in wheelchairs, other than those that have been refurbished,” he said, comparing life for a paralytic in Malta and Australia.

“You really need to do your research before you eat out, unless you are accompanied. There’s always a step, or two, which is fine to go down but not to ascend. There should always be a ramp, even for prams.

“We had to go past four bars along the Strand in Sliema the other day to find an accessible toilet. Even then, though it was spacious enough, it had a step up.”

Back in Australia, the 34-year-old can live totally alone, even though he has no feeling in his body from his belly button down, the result of landing flat on his back when he fell a storey from a stable roof that caved in as he was cleaning water gutters.

Today, he is self-sufficient, works at a bank round the corner and drives. Underground parking, lifts and sizeable toilets for persons with disability mean he has “no issues”.

Mr Masterson has learnt to live without movement, a situation that causes complications when it comes to even the most mundane activities. In fact, the excitement of the flight home was quick to dissolve when he faced the hurdle of manoeuvring his wheelchair into the toilet and found he could not really close the door, which had to be guarded by an attendant. “I think I’ll just use the pee bag on my return,” he laughs.

And humour is predominant in his outlook on life. He has always been a strong and positive character anyway and his paralysis has not dampened that. “I’m not sure how others, who do not have the same traits I do, would have coped,” he says.

Of course, when the fit and virile man found himself confined to a wheelchair there were moments of “tears and slight depression”. But he got over it through the support of family and friends and, in the circumstances, his optimism before the accident certainly took over and is still going strong.

Mr Masterson was also helped by mentors – people who have been paralysed for even 30 years – who surrounded him during his five months in hospital and rehab, teaching him how to move on.

About 80 per cent of spinal cord injuries in Australia are the result of motorbike accidents, meaning many young people have had their mobility snatched away, he points out, having made contact with several in his shoes.

But when asked who has helped him the most, after a pause, he answers: “Myself!”

The prospect of stem cell treatment, which he has been researching, has continued to brighten that light at the end of the tunnel, filling him with hope that he could one day walk again. He was already aware of it through the stories of actors Christopher Reeve and Michael J. Fox and is waiting for the right time – and more financial stability – to undergo the treatment, which costs between €7,000 and €21,000. Mr Masterson could be entitled to compensation for the accident.

Meanwhile, he has been following others’ improvements and is “confident” he will get good results.

His optimism is further fuelled by paralysed gymnast Vlada Kravchenko, who was pictured in The Times, standing aided by a frame after she started the therapy.

Until then, however, life goes on in Australia, to where he moved in 1999 at the age of 23. Mr Masterson, whose mother is Maltese, could visit the country he grew up in for the first time since 2001 thanks to his many childhood friends, who chipped in for his flight and hotel accommodation.

Sitting on the balcony of his room, he is not depressed by the view of the sea and the pool below. It is equipped with a hydraulic chair and he can “swim better than most”. In fact, Mr Masterson’s robust upper body contrasts with his thin, frail legs, which he lifts to shift himself, manoeuvring his way around, assisted by “daddy’s little helper”, his seven-year-old daughter Alicia-Jay.

It would appear to be an understatement to describe Mr Masterson’s spinal cord injury as “life-changing”. But those are the words he uses... and, indeed, they say it all. “I still go out and do normal stuff, even going to clubs... where I get boogieing on the dance floor!”