All about Guillain-Barré syndrome: Tom havde GBS and describes the funny side of GBS

There was life then and now, before and after GBS. Early retirement had come my way in 1993 and I moved out to live and work in Spain. Within five days in August 1996 GBS left me totally paralysed from the shoulders down. The Spanish neighbours gathered round and bid farewell with the word " Animo, Cheer Up " as they trundled me into the ambulance on a stretcher. As the doors closed I particularly recall catching a glimpse of the diminutive figure of Luz Divina standing there. Her name means "Divine Light".

Forty eight hours later a lung collapsed and my breathing failed. The consultant in intensive care who had connected me to the ventilator urged my wife to go home and get some rest with the words, "aquí no mueren, they don't die here." Nine weeks later, out of danger but still paralysed, I allowed myself to be flown back to the UK by air-ambulance and spent another nine months in two hospitals.

GBS has left the worse for wear. However, I do not have to look far to see others far worse off. There is much I can do for myself, am not in a wheel chair, can walk with two crutches and feel lucky to be alive. In a sense GBS has enriched my understanding. The experience disabused me of one belief and confirmed the truth of another. First, the world is not as cruel as I imagined it to be. Second, we never know who our friends are. Many of those I had trusted did not rally round. Help often came from unexpected quarters.

We returned to Spain in August 1997. Those Spanish neighbours have not let us down. As I hobble up and down the street on my crutches they always greet me with the words, "Poco a poco, Despacito, Slowly now, Take it easy", and then ask after my health. What did I ever do to deserve such attention?

Luz Divina came to see me soon after my return and brought a piece of cheese, a chorizo and some ham from her "pueblo, home town". She loves red wine, wears trainers, walks with a shuffle and lets her football socks settle around the ankles. Luz spent many years in the United Kingdom working as a domestic in National Health Service hospitals. She insists on speaking to me in English. That day, leaning over to give me a kiss she said, " You looked very poorly as they took you away in the ambulance. I thought you were going to die so I went to church and prayed." Bless her! She'd been drinking.

The young couple across the road have a six year old boy Gonzalo and he is a great help. One day I'd left the door of the bathroom ajar and he caught me pulling up my trousers. After giving them a tug he said, "si me necesitas, llama, if you need me just call. " Some months ago I had a fall and broke an ankle. It has taken some time for me to literally get back on my feet. This week Gonzalo said to me, " Tomás estás mejor. Eres viejo pero no te preocupes, te quedan muchos años para morir. Tom, you're much better. You're old but don't worry. It'll be years before you die." I pray that the boy's words come true. There was life before GBS but it has never been as enjoyable as now.

Tom Hawkins, GBS '96
written in 2003