To be, or not to be?

I now have almost no pain, have gained two inches in height and have even regained function in my legs below the knees, which is something I haven't had since I took to a wheelchair 23 years ago.

This wonderful outcome, however, has led me to a significant personal dilemma. Later in May, I have an appointment to see my surgeon and I am trying to decide whether I should ask him to carry out one more operation. This time I am thinking about surgery on my right hip, to see if I can be put in a position to start learning to walk again.

The great thing about this would be the huge benefit to my health. Anyone who uses a wheelchair has been strapped onto a 'standing table' at some time, and had the virtues of verticalness sold to them. The human body has evolved to be upright, they say, so our internal organs function better and last longer if we spend some time on our feet - even if our feet don't work.

Standing would also take some of the pressure off my arms. Us 'wheelies' have a fear of losing function in our upper body due to extra stress on those particular muscles and joints, for obvious reasons. Walking would help to share the day-to-day wear and tear.

The other benefit is the opportunity to enter the able-bodied world much more easily. I think all of us disabled people must admit that, while the DDA is going to make the world a better place, those of us with mobility problems are not going to share in all of those improvements. Braille signs or information and hearing loops are cheap and fairly easy to install in daily life, but improving physical access is regularly painted as 'too unreasonable' to attempt, due to either expense or difficulty. The law allows this.

On a purely selfish level, to be able to walk would mean I could finally gain equal access to what the world has to offer. Ah, and therein lies the rub - that 'selfish level'.

One of the things that has always driven me crazy with rage is the worldwide obsession for curing cripples, whether through medicine or miracle.

I have written an untold number of letters and articles on how the media portrays us as "poor little things, dreaming of the day we might be made normal". I have sent ranting e-mails to various media stars complaining about how they have been quoted as saying that the search for a cure for spinal injury is all we want.

So folks, it's decision time. Now that I might be given the chance to benefit from advances in medicine, can I in all good conscience become an ex-cripple?

Added to this, it would mean undergoing yet another series of operations and treatment that will eat up yet more of my life. I have had to take things easy for years, due to pain and spinal weakness, and now I want to start living again. I have a career to rebuild, parties to attend, a fiancée to marry, and I don't really want to spend any more of my valuable time under the surgeon's knife.

I have never wanted to be cured, and freely admit that my life didn't start until I went into my wheelchair. I used to be a 'walking wounded' as a child, but I found the whole process of becoming 'obviously' disabled a really positive one. I know that all of the great things I have experienced in my 23 years 'under the wheel' would never have happened if I had stayed up on two legs.

I am not sure that spending another five years learning to walk would really benefit my lifestyle as much as the able-bodied world would like to believe, but it would help to reinforce the stereotype that disabled people dream of a cure. It would also deprive young disabled people of yet another role model (I am sooo modest, huh?)

So what do I do ...? I really don't know.

As I get older I find the constant fight for rights so tiring, and to be able to just jump out of my chair does seem appealing. But then, the years of pain and discomfort ahead of me after surgery that may not work, or might only bring about a minor improvement, could be too high a price to pay. I mean, what would you do ...?

The one thing I do know is that this whole subject matter could make a superb documentary. BBC Docs take note.