 There is an undeniable fascination with the state of physical disability and an envy of others who are disabled - very much the feeling "I wish it could be me". At times, it is almost as if my body-image feels wrong and I should be disabled and encased in leg-braces to somehow be "the real me". It must be like a transgendered person feels about his/her body image. Incidentally, I'm very happy with my own gender. Via the internet and though other contacts, I've come across a surprising number of both men and women who share this fascination. Most seem perfectly good, sensitive and well-balanced individuals, apart from this one facet of their personality which, try as they will, never leaves them. The mystery for me, and many others, is just how and when did it start, and why? In my own case, I believe it can be traced right back to when I was a young child and broke my leg. I was in plaster for nearly 6 months and had to use crutches and later a surgical boot. On one hospital visit I was prescribed an AFO brace. This would have been a leather and steel brace to support my lower leg from excessive movement. The surgeon changed his mind though and I went back into a cast for several more months. Our family had plans to emigrate and these were stopped because of my leg. In fact you could say it changed the whole of my life thereafter. The attention I attracted and the exposure to hospital orthopaedic wards with children of my own age disabled with polio had a profound subconscious effect on me. I wonder whether the "survivor guilt" effect had something to do with it? Here was I able to leave my disability behind when my broken leg healed whereas lots of the kids around me at that time were left severely physically disabled for life because of polio. They had no choice. For many devotees the widespread signs of polio disability in the 1950s was a powerful subconscious driver. Certainly I remain fascinated and intrigued by the thought that I could have been a childhood victim of polio and left paralysed for life and having to use calipers. It wasn't until years later that I realised just how important those days must have been to my developing psyche. Over the years my fascination with leg-braces has grown ever stronger and desire to be in them is, at times, overpowering. At other times the feelings subside and go to the back of my mind but it only takes the sight of someone in a leg-brace on TV or for real to send the feelings sky high again. Explaining this to others usually results in total disbelief and responses such as "get a life". But, like others, I just cannot help my feelings. Other facets that never fail to amaze me and many others are: (a) the almost perfect memory we have for leg-brace "sightings" even if these memories go back more than half a century, and (b) the almost instinctive "brace radar" we possess - we seem to know when someone is using leg-braces: we detect the subtle limping gait or hear the clunk of a crutch and turn our heads to look. My story is mirrored in hundreds of similar accounts I've read in the last 15 years from people who feel just like me. If you think you are the only one with these feelings then forget it - this is far from unusual.
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