Still Me (44 page)

Lately I have begun to perceive my life as a continuum, rather than two parts divided by what happened on May 27, 1995. I'm thrilled when someone remembers something we shared at some point in my life. I believe this reaction means my mind and spirit refuse to let the injury define who I am now. And when I look to the future, I see more possibilities than limitations; otherwise, I wouldn't have the willpower to eat a proper diet and exercise in preparation for recovery.

As we passed through the night during the last imaginary voyage on the
Sea Angel
, we were unsure what kind of light beckoned ahead. Now as we draw closer it seems it just might be the entrance to a safe harbor. No one knows how much further we have to go, but somehow we're certain we're not going to sink. When we first set sail, none of us could have imagined what was going to happen. But we weathered every adversity that came our way; the boat proved to be stronger than we ever realized. Whether or not this light up ahead shows the way to our final destination is not so important now. However long the journey, we will survive.

December 1998

POSTSCRIPT

Dr. Jane was right. About a year after I left Kessler, sensation returned at the very base of my spine. I am, after all, incomplete. The MRI taken at U.C. Irvine in the fall of 1997 also showed that the ventral side of the spinal cord that controls motor function was completely intact. The gap at C2 that prevents messages sent by the brain from being transmitted to the body was only twenty millimeters long. If you were to put your little finger over the site of the injury you would be looking at a picture of a completely normal spinal cord. According to Dr. Schwab, these circumstances make me a prime candidate for the first human trials in regeneration. Because the gap is so small it appears likely that as the nerves regenerate they will be able to make appropriate reconnections. My chances of significant recovery now are greater than anyone could have expected just a few short years ago.

MISSION STATEMENT OF THE CHRISTOPHER REEVE FOUNDATION

Founded in 1996, the mission of the Christopher Reeve Foundation (CRF) is to raise funds for medical research leading to the effective treatment of and—ultimately—a cure for spinal cord injury paralysis. CRF serves as a source of information and a voice for all people with disabilities. Through grants, CRF also supports programs that focus on quality-of-life issues for all people with disabilities.

To make a donation, or for more information, write or call:

Christopher Reeve Foundation

P.O. Box 277

FDR Station

New York, NY 10150-0277

1-888-711-HOPE

CHRISTOPHER REEVE CREDITS

MOTION PICTURES

Village of the Damned
(John Carpenter, director)

Speechless
(Ron Underwood, director)

Above Suspicion
(Steve Schachter, director)

Remains of the Day
(James Ivory, director)

Noises Off
(Peter Bogdanovich, director)

Morning Glory
(Steve Stern, director)

Switching Channels
(Ted Kotcheff, director)

Superman IV
(Sidney J. Furie, director)

Street Smart
(Jerry Schatzberg, director)

The Aviator
(George Miller, director)

The Bostonians
(James Ivory, director)

Superman III
(Richard Lester, director)

Monsignor
(Frank Perry, director)

Deathtrap
(Sidney Lumet, director)

Superman II
(Richard Lester, director)

Somewhere in Time
(Jeannot Szwarc, director)

Superman
(Richard Donner, director)

Gray Lady Down
(David Greene, director)

TELEVISION

Black Fox
(CBS miniseries)

Sea Wolf
(TNT movie of the week)

Mortal Sins
(USA Network movie of the week)

Tales from the Crypt
(HBO)

Death Dreams
(Lifetime)

Bump in the Night
(CBS movie of the week)

Road to Avonlea
(guest star on Disney Channel series)

The Road from Runnymede
(PBS/Constitution Project)

Carol and Company
(guest star)

The Rose and the Jackal
(TNT)

The Great Escape: The Untold Story
(NBC movie of the week)

Last Ferry Home
(WCTV-Boston/Hearst Entertainment)

Anna Karenina
(CBS)

The American Revolution
(PBS series)

Love of Life
(CBS)

THEATER

The Aspern Papers
(London)

OFF
-
BROADWAY

Love Letters
(Boston, Los Angeles, San Francisco)

DIRECTING

In the Gloaming
(HBO; Emmy nomination, won four Cable Ace awards)

Appendix

SELECTED SPEECHES

SPEECH AT THE DEMOCRATIC NATIONAL CONVENTION

August 26, 1996

Over the last few years, we've heard a lot about something called family values. And like many of you, I've struggled to figure out what that means. But since my accident, I've found a definition that seems to make sense. I think it means that we're all family, that we all have value. And if that's true, if America really is a family, then we have to recognize that many members of our family are hurting.

Just to take one aspect of it, one in five of us has some kind of disability. You may have an aunt with Parkinson's disease. A neighbor with a spinal cord injury. A brother with AIDS. And if we're really committed to this idea of family, we've got to do something about it.

First of all, our nation cannot tolerate discrimination of any kind. That's why the Americans with Disabilities Act is so important and must be honored everywhere. It is a civil rights law that is tearing down barriers both in architecture and in attitude.

Its purpose is to give the disabled access not only to buildings but to every opportunity in society, I strongly believe our nation must give its full support to the caregivers who are helping people with disabilities live independent lives.

Sure, we've got to balance the budget. And we will.

We have to be extremely careful with every dollar that we spend. But we've also got to take care of our family—and not slash programs people need. We should be enabling, healing, curing.

One of the smartest things we can do about disability is invest in research that will protect us from disease and lead to cures. This country already has a long history of doing just that. When we put our minds to a problem, we can usually find solutions. But our scientists can do more. And we've got to give them the chance.

That means more funding for research. Right now, for example, about a quarter million Americans have a spinal cord injury. Our government spends about $8.7 billion a year just maintaining these members of our family. But we spend only $40 million a year on research that would actually improve the quality of their lives, get them off public assistance, or even cure them.

We've got to be smarter, do better. Because the money we invest in research today is going to determine the quality of life of members of our family tomorrow.

During my rehabilitation, I met a young man named Gregory Patterson. When he was innocently driving through Newark, New Jersey, a stray bullet from a gang shooting went through his car window . . . right into his neck . . . and severed his spinal cord. Five years ago, he might have died. Today, because of research, he's alive.

But merely being alive is not enough. We have a moral and an economic responsibility to ease his suffering and prevent others from experiencing such pain. And to do that we don't need to raise taxes. We just need to raise our expectations.

America has a tradition many nations probably envy: We frequently achieve the impossible. That's part of our national character. That's what got us from one coast to another. That's what got us the largest economy in the world. That's what got us to the moon.

On the wall of my room when I was in rehab was a picture of the space shuttle blasting off, autographed by every astronaut now at NASA. On the top of the picture it says, “We found nothing is impossible .”That should be our motto. Not a Democratic motto, not a Republican motto. But an American motto. Because this is not something one party can do alone. It's something that we as a nation must do together.

So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable. If we can conquer outer space, we should be able to conquer inner space, too: the frontier of the brain, the central nervous system, and all the afflictions of the body that destroy so many lives and rob our country of so much potential.

Research can provide hope for people who suffer from Alzheimer's. We've already discovered the gene that causes it. Research can provide hope for people like Muhammad Ali and the Reverend Billy Graham who suffer from Parkinson's. Research can provide hope for the millions of Americans like Kirk Douglas who suffer from stroke. We can ease the pain of people like Barbara Jordan, who battled multiple sclerosis. We can find treatments for people like Elizabeth Glaser, whom we lost to AIDS. And now that we know that nerves in the spinal cord can regenerate, we are on the way to getting millions of people around the world like me up and out of our wheelchairs.

Fifty-six years ago, FDR dedicated new buildings for the National Institutes of Health. He said that “the defense this nation seeks involves a great deal more than building airplanes, ships, guns, and bombs. We cannot be a strong nation unless we are a healthy nation.” He could have said that today.

President Roosevelt showed us that a man who could barely lift himself out of a wheelchair could still lift a nation out of despair. And I believe—and so does this administration—in the most important principle FDR taught us: America does not let its needy citizens fend for themselves. America is stronger when all of us take care of all of us. Giving new life to that ideal is the challenge before us tonight.

Thank you very much.

JUILLIARD SCHOOL COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS

May 23, 1997

First of all, I want to thank Dr. Polisi for writing all that down exactly as I dictated it to him [citation honoring Reeve delivered by President Polisi]. It's a real thrill to be here again; I was a student here only twenty-four years ago. And I remember the first production I saw in the Drama Division was
The Night of the Iguana
by Tennessee Williams with an actor named Robin Williams playing an old man. And I thought, If he can do comedy, we're all in trouble. He was absolutely brilliant. I have such warm memories of being here, although I remember we always flattened ourselves against the wall anytime John Houseman went by. It was truly terrifying. And I also remember that at any moment you could be invited upstairs for a little chat and suddenly told that perhaps you should go into computer programming instead. And people suddenly disappeared, and there was nothing left but an empty locker. And yet, if you survived four years here, you emerged as one of the best actors or directors or musicians or opera singers that this country can produce. And while you had to work on technique, while you were often intimidated by teachers, you really had their support. And the most important feeling that you got was that this institution supported you.

Now the difficult part comes, because out in the world institutions basically are against you in too many cases. And in my recent experience I've seen a parallel between the world of disability and the world of the artist when it comes to institutions. Just to give you an example, you may have seen on
48 Hours
last week a mother crying to the insurance company about why her son can't have a [special] chair so that he can take a shower, and being denied by the insurance company. In my own case, when I left rehab I was told that I could have only twenty hours of nursing a week; but I am dependent on a ventilator, and if it fails, I am in very serious trouble. Would they provide a backup ventilator? No. Fortunately, I was able to afford one, but what about all the people who can't? I talk to some of the executives of insurance companies. And I say, Why is this? Why don't you take care of people? People who have paid their premiums, people who are in need. And they say, Well, we're in the risk management business. And I say, You should be in the people business.

For the last nine years or so with The Creative Coalition, I've been working to help save the National Endowment for the Arts. I remember sitting down with some of the opponents of the endowment, people supposedly with IQs in triple digits. And I say, What is your problem with the NEA? Don't you realize what it does for your community, not only in terms of the quality of life but even just economically? And they say, Well, we shouldn't be just giving handouts; if an artist is any good he'll succeed. So, let's follow the logic of that. Have we trained, have we gone through all this so that we can in a calculated way create art to succeed only in the marketplace? That would be a tragedy for this country and for the world.