Gurdov Yaz-Murat is a 44-year-old man living in Central Asia who has spent half his life in isolation following a spinal injury. For 22 years, he has been trapped in a fourth-floor apartment, with no access to care, support or rehabilitation. He has faced trauma, grief, debt, loneliness and additional medical complications.
In this powerful personal story, Gurdov shares an honest account what life has been like living with paralysis for over 20 years, the loss of family and friendships and the desperate need for help.
It all started back in childhood when I experienced a traumatic event, which resulted in the loss of my brother. After this, I became more withdrawn but continued with my education and developed an interest in sport. In 1999, I moved to Krasnodar, Russia, to study law. During university, I maintained an active lifestyle, helped others where possible, formed relationships and began planning my future.
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From university student to life-changing spinal cord injury
Everything shattered on 26th April 2004. The final year of college. In the evening, the guys and I went to the sports stadium to work out on the horizontal bars. During a complex element, a somersault with a flip, I lost my grip and fell. I hit my head hard and broke my neck. The fall was so severe that I lost consciousness and woke up only on the second day in the intensive care unit.
Since I was a foreign student, the Russian hospital was in no hurry with the surgery and performed it only two weeks after the fall. They did two complex surgeries on me in the First Krasnodar Regional Hospital, I spent half a year lying there, and in October 2004, my sister and brother-in-law dropped me off in my home country.
My medical diagnosis stayed with me forever: severe combined trauma, complicated dislocation-fracture of the C5 vertebra, and a severe spinal cord contusion. The consequence was tetraplegia or quadriplegia — a complete lack of active movement in all four limbs.
I am completely paralyzed from the neck down. I can feel and move my head a little, but I cannot move my shoulders, arms, legs, or body. I have complete muscle atrophy and a loss of all types of sensitivity below the injury level from the C5 and C6 segment levels.
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Living with disability, financial hardship and inaccessible housing
Along with my spine, all the life around me shattered too. Friends, relatives, and acquaintances gradually disappeared on their own, including the death of my father. Time simply erased all connections. Out of the whole family, only my elderly mother, who is now nearly 77 years old, and two sisters stayed with me.
Over the past 22 years, my family has faced significant financial pressures due to the ongoing costs of my care and medication. We have used our savings, sold possessions and taken on debt. My long-term disability has also led to several additional health conditions, including diabetes, asthma, infections and deteriorating vision.
I live on the fourth floor of an old building without an elevator or ramps. To carry me down, four strong men are needed, but I only have my mother and two sisters. I cannot sit in a wheelchair without fixation. They have to tie me down tightly with straps and bandages. I sit for only a couple of hours a day to eat and go online using a Chinese chopstick held in my teeth. The rest of the time I just lie on an old mattress. I have not left my room for 22 years, have not been to rehabilitation centres, and have never seen social services. There is no help. From despair and betrayals, I tried to commit suicide four times, and I looked for death.
I tried to meet people on the internet, but with my disability, nobody wanted to communicate. I ran an experiment: on a dating site for people with disabilities, 99% of users simply did not reply to my messages. But when, for the sake of the experiment, I created an account of a healthy guy, the situation turned exactly opposite, and I received 99% of replies. This was the first harsh, cynical lesson of reality.
After 22 years, I have come to understand that change does not always arrive as expected. Years of seeking support and facing barriers have changed my outlook, but I continue to share my experience in the hope that my voice will be heard and that others facing similar challenges will receive greater understanding, compassion and support.
Gurdov’s experience highlights the significant barriers disabled people can face when essential care, rehabilitation and social support are unavailable. Have you experienced similar challenges in your country, particularly where support services for disabled people are limited? Let us know in the comments box, on social media or contact us to share your personal story.