Keeping your Head above Water by Matt Levy!

Strive not to be a success, but rather to be of value  - Albert Einstein

I was born at 25 weeks premature in 1987. I weighed just under 600 grams and was approximately equal in size to the palm of a hand. As a consequence being born early, I had a bleed on the brain in the first 3 days of life causing a cerebral haemorrhage resulting in a permeant spinal drainage diversion by inserting a shunt to drain the excess fluid. This lead to cerebral palsy and being vision impaired as a consequence of the first few days of life. It was quite clear from the earliest possible age that I was going to be different.

During the time that I was growing up, I found it hard to come to terms with my disability. It was difficult to comprehend the magnitude of it and to accept the hand that I’d been dealt. But the values and beliefs that were instilled in me through my parents, Penny and Michael Levy, and peers, were vitally important. They got me to where I am today.

There have been some unforgettable, while also challenging, moments to deal with over the years. One of them was when I found myself lying in a hospital bed after one of the various brain operations I had to endure. It was a truly surreal moment and one that has stayed with me ever since. I will never forget that feeling. My body felt heavy, my head was full of stitches, and I couldn’t move my arms and legs. It was a feeling of not knowing a guessing game of sorts. I felt out of my body. I was just trying to understand.

 

At that moment, I felt that it was too hard to go on. My condition and what I was going through were testing the limits of my resolve. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do, or how I was going to go about it. But spending time in that hospital was also an oddly inspiring experience. I was feeling a sense of helplessness of not knowing what the outcome was going to be. I was scared of what the future would hold for me.

Being sequestered in a ward full of people going through very similar things to myself, and being forced to deal with significant physical conditions, somehow put my own position into perspective. I was able to see that dealing with challenges was perhaps not as difficult as I thought. I was able to see that even in the darkest circumstances, there is a light side to everything. Life still has meaning even when you have your darkest days ahead of you.

Of course, it was still a scary feeling to be in the hospital, dealing with brain operations, while having no idea of what the ultimate prognosis would be. But it was great to realise that there were people around me who were able to point me in the right direction.

From the day I was born through to my teenage years, I had between 30 and 40 brain operations. Some of them were relatively simple shunt revisions, draining hydrocephalous – fluid on the brain – from my head down to my stomach. This fluid can block adolescent growth and interfere with the bodily changes that occur during this time.

So, from the day that I was born, until around the age of 13, I had a lot of operations. I became very accustomed to hospitals, doctors, and nurses; it was just normal for me. I remember lying in a hospital bed for days on end, wondering when I’d be able to get out, run around with my friends, and be able to live a normal life. It wasn’t long before I figured out that my body simply wouldn’t allow me to do so.

They were tough times, without a doubt, but they also showed me who I was as a person. The hardest thing was trying to understand the process. As a child aged two or three, lying in a hospital bed, there’s no way for you to understand what is happening to you. By the time I was 11 or 12, I had a greater understanding, but it was still tough to comprehend. It’s difficult not to wonder why something like this is happening to you and not someone else. That was the hardest thing for me to accept in the early days.

When you’ve grown up as I have, you realise every day is a gift, so you’d better make the most of it.

Having so many operations in the early years of your life teaches you a lot about resilience, attitude, and determination. During that time, I had a lot of opportunities to think, not just about my situation but also about wider issues and life itself. I vividly remember making an emergency visit to a local hospital. A shunt system in my brain had malfunctioned, and the doctors were trying to relieve a build-up of pressure; it was pretty touch and go.

Inevitably, you end up questioning life and all the things you have done up to that point.

I can’t remember all the operations, especially the early ones. My heart and lungs were operated on multiple times because I was born prematurely. My parents recall the life-threatening operations I went through when I was new-born. The struggles I went through from day one, and the fight I had on my hands from the beginning is something that was embedded in their memory. I know I’m lucky to be here.

Walking is something many people take for granted; for me, it was a massive struggle. Being born so prematurely, my fine motor skills were delayed. At the age of four, I was still crawling when most kids had long since started to walk. Having cerebral palsy and suffering three strokes during my formative years made it extremely difficult for me to coordinate my movements the way a normally developed person would.

Physical therapy was my gateway through this. Attending regular sessions, I gradually learned how to move my arms and legs like the other kids. I’m so grateful to the Cerebral Palsy Alliance in Allambie Heights, New South Wales. The work I did there helped me get my legs moving to the best of their ability. I wouldn’t be who I am today without that support.

'Every day is a gift, so you’d better make the most of it'.

 

This is an extract from the introduction of Matt's forthcoming book and it is published with the express permission of the author. 

Close

GiFT631, FutureYou & #whatwinnersdo

Want to learn more about the resources available to help you, your team and business soar?