My Sanctuary Above the Stairs: A Journey of Independence

My name is Ash. I’m 36 years old, and for a long time, my world was defined by movement and "going beyond." Growing up, my younger brother was my best friend, and we built a world together through gaming and computers. That fascination led me to build PCs for friends all over the country—creating an "online family" long before I needed one in person.

I’ve always been the type to go beyond the job description. I was the researcher travelling Britain to revamp retail stores; the taxi driver; the man behind the wheel of "extraordinary cars" for Auxillis. Later, as a Porter at a castle hotel in North Wales, management and guests commended my helpfulness. I loved my work. I loved my independence.

Five years ago, life changed. I developed a debilitating neurological disability that left me wheelchair-bound and non-verbal. Because I have a rare immunity to anaesthesia, I am trapped in a medical limbo—no diagnosis, no clear answers, just a body at war with itself.

I have been through several humiliating and strenuous assessments with government agencies. For four years, I fought for assistance that I know is a necessity, only to be told it wasn't "feasible."

My flat is on the second floor of a Victorian conversion. To some, four flights of stairs and no lift sounds like a mistake. To me, it’s my sanctuary. The views from my lounge and bedroom windows are the incentive I need to get up and face each day. To move from here is not something I could contemplate—I need the security of this home and the neighbours who have become my extended family.

But currently, getting home is exhausting and dangerous. To get down to the world, I have to slide down the stairs on my rear, using a walking stick for leverage. To get back up, I have to physically lift my own legs, step by step, with assistance. The stairlifts would provide me with safe, stress-free access to the outside. It would return my dignity.

I am a very independent person who has never accepted help if I can manage by myself. I don’t see myself as disabled—I am just me. I have issues that can be horrendous, but they are moments to be dealt with so that life can continue going forward.

I am seeking funds for the stairlifts because it is an essential addition to my life that I simply cannot fund alone. Life is a challenge, but I deal with it the best I can. I’m not asking for a "want"; I’m asking for the independence I’ve spent my whole life building.