Stay up to date with notifications from The Independent

Notifications can be managed in browser preferences.

'Inside I've not changed. My personality, my soul, has not changed': Christine Leung, awarded pounds 3.4m for horrendous accident injuries, tells Helen Fielding how she has learned to cope

Helen Fielding
Sunday 20 March 1994 00:02 GMT
Comments

'BUT she had her legs crossed. She must have got someone else to cross them for her. Why did she do that?' was one journalist's semi-indignant reaction after watching Monday's press conference held by the elegant Christine Leung.

Leung, totally paralysed below the shoulders after a car accident in June 1989, unable to breathe or speak without mechanical aid, had won pounds 3.4m, the highest one-off compensation personal injury pay-off made in Britain.

It wasn't so much the superlative size of the award which generated the attention, as Christine Leung herself - about as injured as it is possible to be and remain alive and yet (gulp) beautiful, groomed, well dressed, manicured, coiffeured, intelligent, smart, articulate self-possessed and, yes, sexually attractive, with a short skirt and crossed legs.

The sense of a stereotype pulled from under one's notebook was evident in press coverage the next day, notably the Daily Star, idiotically categorising the former marketing executive as a No-Sex Crash Beauty.

That the image Leung projected should cause anyone to sit up and blink speaks volumes about prevailing attitudes. 'The vast majority of the population see a person in a wheelchair as somehow asexual and different,' says Anne Luttman- Johnson of the Spinal Injuries Association.

'To have Christine Leung appear on the television, evidently still proud of her image, showing that you do not lose your personality, your style, your attractiveness, your dignity after such an accident is more effective than any number of publicity campaigns.'

At the time of the accident, Leung was 32, separated, with a teenage son, and was all set for a good career in marketing. She had been an area sales manager for the cosmetics company ROC and was studying for an MBA. She was a passenger in a car travelling on the M3 which swerved to avoid a plank of wood from the roof-rack of the car in front, then hit the central barrier and overturned.

She regained consciousness some days later in hospital, to be told she would never regain the use of her body. Over the next three years she had a series of operations, including a tracheotomy, and in 1992 moved into a specially adapted bungalow near Birmingham, where she lives with her son, now 17.

She breathes only with the aid of electrodes fastened to her chest, speaks with the aid of a metal funnel in her throat, has a catheter, needs two hours physiotherapy before she can get up in the morning, and needs a team of 10 carers, with two constantly in attendance, simply to survive.

'Wasn't pounds 3.4m rather a lot of compensation?' Leung was asked at the conference. 'Would you swap with me?' she said with a let's-cut-the-bullshit smile. 'Would you want to be like me? I'd give you every penny.'

What if I had to, what would happen if I was paralysed, how would I cope? are questions which must at some time have occurred to everyone who doesn't know the answer already.

Later in the week, in her home in Birmingham, Christine Leung told me, in her own words, the set of 10 personal rules which have helped her adjust.

'Accept your limitations but make the most of what you have left' was her first resolution.

'It's pretty hard at first not to think that the world has come to an end,' she said, 'but you have to remind yourself that any life is precious. You can't do all the things you could before but you will still be able to do some of them.

'I can still meet friends, have dinner parties, go out to the cinema and the theatre. I need to have two carers with me to drive me, and to feed me, I have to supervise cooking now, rather than actually doing it, but at least I have a social life.'

2 You have to try and hang on to your sense of yourself.

'It would be wrong to say that an accident like this doesn't affect your mind at all. It is definitely not fun to need help to do every single thing, and never, ever to be alone. I get frustrated and irritated.

'But basically I have not changed. My soul has not changed, my principles and values are the same and my personality has not changed. I think if you understand this yourself then it will come across to others.'

3 Maintaining your self respect is crucial.

'This is a very subjective thing but, for me, looking as good as I can is an important symbol of my respect, not just for myself but for others. It helps my confidence and it helps me deal with the rest of the world.'

4 Don't be too demanding - it has to work both ways.

'I support the efforts of the disability lobby to demand changes in rights and public attitudes. But I think, maybe because my former work was in the marketing world, that it also helps for disabled people to market themselves effectively.

'It is no good simply asking of the world 'Be nice to me'. You have to try to be nice yourself, be good company, and maintain as far as possible the image you had before, so that people are not able to think that someone sitting in a wheelchair is an alien and are reminded that you have the same feelings and emotions as anyone else.'

5 Get a good, specialist injury lawyer.

'A lot of people who have accidents of this sort make the mistake of going to the lawyer who dealt with their divorce or the sale of their house. In insurance liability cases you are up against the big legal guns of the insurance companies and therefore you must have experts on your side.

'For me to obtain some quality of life and do more than just survive is a very costly business. I'm extremely glad that I was represented by a good lawyer who specialisess in personal injury cases.'

6 It's worth doing things your own way even if it means challenging accepted practices.

'I have to use a catheter and in hospital the nurses always fastened it down my leg - which meant that I couldn't wear shorts, or short skirts or leggings.

'When I got home I tried fastening it on my side instead, which turned out to be OK and meant that I could wear what I wanted, which cheered me up a lot.

'In the same way, I decided that I would have the carer cross my legs when I was wearing a skirt in my wheelchair. Any woman knows that you look more feminine like that - so why not?'

7 It's easier not to mope if you fill your time.

'Crying over spilt milk and thinking 'if only' is completely pointless and destructive, but very tempting. The best way to avoid it is just to get on with doing something else. About six hours of my day get filled with medical treatments anyway. I fill the rest of the time with lunch dates, afternoon tea and dinner parties, and working with the local Chinese community. I get on a plane and go on holiday every year too.

'The worst thing you can do is just lie in bed getting depressed, though on some days I must admit I do. I hope to get a voice-activated computer soon.'

8 You have to let yourself be depressed sometimes and not be afraid of it or ashamed.

'You are only human, after all. Your brain and emotions haven't changed. You will feel anger, sadness, happiness, excitement, and depression - the same range of emotions that anyone else experiences.

'There are some very difficult things to deal with. I like visiting historic houses. I had a day out recently when I got to a stately home, paid to go in, and couldn't get round the garden because the paths were made of loose stones, and I couldn't get up the stairs.

'There really should be more access for wheelchairs but there will always be some places, like stately homes, where you really can't expect them to install lifts. Certain things will always make you fed up, and this is normal.'

9 Realise the value of people who love you.

'I always believed that I was loved by my son, my parents, my friends and this gave me a great feeling of security.

'With people you know less well you have to set your own terms. After the accident I was in hospital for 18 months, and I didn't see anyone during that time except family and close friends. That is my way of dealing with depression, because I'm proud. I don't like anyone to see me when I am down. I waited till I was ready to come out of my shell and then people were pleased to see me back on form again.

'People can be very embarrassed by your injuries, and you have to reassure them that they can treat you as normal, and don't have to be over-sensitive about your feelings. The last thing you want is pity. You have to get used to people sometimes looking at you strangely and tell yourself that they are not necessarily hostile but merely curious.'

10 Be optimistic but realistic.

'As far as a romantic life goes, if it comes my way I would be delighted - who wouldn't?

'But often I feel very inadequate and ask myself what I have to offer. Then I think that initially people would be deterred or frightened by the wheelchair, and if they weren't understanding they wouldn't get very far. It would be nice to think that obstacles can be overcome and that someone could accept me as I am and take it from there.

'Things do get better. You do get more philosophical and start to believe that there is probably a reason for everything which happens. The main thing is that you have to keep looking on the positive side.'

(Photograph omitted)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in