Patricia, an Ardennes woman suffering from a stroke, recounts her fight in a book: "in a chair, they talk to you as if you were a child"

One winter evening in 2011, while watching a family movie in front of her television, the life of Patricia Martin, an Ardennes woman living in Luxembourg where she was a language teacher, turns around. She suddenly hears an ambulance engaging with sirens screaming in the little street leading to her house. She thinks the neighbor may have had a severe asthma attack. But it was for Zandi that 112 arranged a SAMU move. Her left arm and leg aren't moving, she's got a headache and she's talking weird. She won't find out for a few days that her right carotid has torn apart and that a blood clot tried to kill her by blocking the cerebral artery. His transformed body will upset his life and give him the urge to laugh and make plans.

Zandi, as she is called, a contraction of the often poorly pronounced word for "the handicapped", which sounds nicer, recounts her journey in a book entitled Don't be afraid of the other world, since that terrible evening, then her passage through a rehabilitation centre before resuming another life at home, almost a year later. She did not want to undergo her rehabilitation or believe anything the medical world told her or told her to her loved ones. During the first months and the years that followed, she analysed her situation and the gaze of others, their words, their actions. Zandi wants to move on. "

The book, first challenge before others

So, this book was a first counterfoot to the doctor who had declared her stupid and who had then told her spouse "that the impossible would be tempted to save her because she was young and healthy (!), but that it was still necessary to prepare for her highly probable death, given the extent of the damage suffered. And if she didn't die, she'D wake up mentally retarded. "

But you shouldn't play too much with Zandi's nerves, beating and "stubborn by birth." His strength of character has since enabled him to leave his wheelchair and walk, at his own pace, with a walking stick. "I kept it just in case, because I have a weakness in my ankle. But I live with the idea that nothing will happen to me. The chair was so useful but is now unbearable. When you stand up and talk to someone, it makes a difference, "she says. "in a chair, they talk to you as if you were a child. One day at the entrance to the pool, the manager was talking to my partner as if I wasn't there. Same at a clothing store where I came to shop. The Zandis, you see them as poor people who Don't know how to do anything or say anything. And Don't talk to them! If you have a motor disability and you are in a wheelchair, you are already judged to be half crazy. When the doctor who had analyzed the scanner told my family, in front of me but without looking at me, that there would be a cognitive deficit and that I might be able to take a few steps later, infantilization begins there. I'm not kidding, the doctors at the rehabilitation center go fishing in hospitals. They didn't ask me what I thought, they chose me saying I was screwed, but they were going to take me anyway! "

Fighting to create miracles

So, when eight months later, "Zandi was asked to leave her bed to another more recent Zandi, she first had to hear the sentence," she recounts. "as you were one of the desperate cases when you arrived, be happy to have returned to the way you are now. For the rest, it is desirable that you get used to living with sequelae, including your invalid arm. There's nothing we can do for you anymore. It's time to accept disability, ma'am, because miracles Don't exist. "

But Zandi doesn't give up, because "walking with a crazy leg is not my priority, I've gotten used to moving slowly and this sloppy snail way of life doesn't stop me from enjoying life," but "I'D like to get my left arm back, be able to sit behind the wheel of a car and use my left ring finger to turn on the flashing or play pinball like in the old days of my 14th birthday!"

So the challenges are his life. When she wanted to regain the pleasure of skiing, but her Handiski instructor saw her with little balance on her legs, he imposed on her a self-controlled, high-speed wheelchair descent, something she enjoyed very little. And the next day she and her son offered to descend a blue track on two skis … Thus demonstrating "to the pessimists" his slogan "who tries nothing has nothing!"