Shiloh Lawrence believes laughter is the best therapy. (Pictures by Antonio Miller.)

by CAROL MARTINDALE

FOUR years ago, Shiloh Lawrence was walking, running and playing all types of sports, including his favourites – road tennis and pool.

Now the 21-year-old young man is confined to a wheelchair.

And it happened just like that – out of the blue.

Shiloh cannot walk.

Doctors delivered the dreaded news when he turned 17 years old.

Rhonda Lawrence remembers the tears that poured from her eyes that day. Father Fernando Gibbs was also in tears. They just couldn't believe it.

But Rhonda looks at her son and says: "He is the strong one. When we were crying it was Shiloh who had to turn and comfort us. He told us to leave it to the Lord," she recalls.

Shiloh remembers a fall he had a day while playing tennis near his Bayville, St Michael home. After the fall, he had no feeling in his left leg.

He was concerned and immediately went home and told his father.

The feeling didn't really come back, he says. But even though it would always feel numb, Shiloh said he could still stand.

That went on for about three weeks.

Fernando says he didn't think it was too major, probably too because Shiloh continued to be outside playing. He was back on his bicycle.

But what made the family very concerned was when his other foot gave out under him.

"He used to use the right foot to support the bad one and then that gave out," says Fernando.

They immediately took the boy to the hospital. At that time because he could only walk slightly he relied on his father lifting him around.

Then, an MRI delivered the worst news they could possibly get.

Shiloh was referred to the Neurology Clinic on April, 2003, after a short history of having difficulty walking. The report from the Queen Elizabeth Hospital said this: "He is known to suffer with nerofibromatosis and had experienced sudden weakness in the left leg just weeks prior with no history of trauma or injury .... He is now completely unable to walk with the development of contractures to the left hip and knee."

Shiloh had just finished school at St George Secondary and had applied to do a one-year course in office procedures at the Skills Training Centre.

His mother chimes in: "He had been accepted and then 'bang', all this happened."

Rhonda is sitting in the dining room of the family's home next to Shiloh, who is perched not too comfortably in his wheelchair. Fernando prefers to stand, glancing constantly at his youngest son, making sure he is fine.

Shiloh is smiling, but in his youthful voice admits he is not too comfortable but trying to hold out for the duration of the interview.

Earlier, his father had lifted him out of his bedroom and into his chair.

Even that is not as easy as it seems. Fernando explains that there is a technique in lifting Shiloh, who has no feeling from his waist down.

Shiloh also buckles his tiny, drawn feet in, smiling and saying: "It's comfortable like this."

Fernando remembers that as a baby Shiloh would cry out when he was being lifted. Then, as he got older, he would complain of back pains, but nothing too serious.

But if Shiloh's inability to walk wasn't enough for this family, they also have to deal with the growth on his back which places pressure on his spine. This is connected, they say, to his lack of mobility.

His mother lifts his shirt to show the fleshy mound of skin and curve of the spine.

They are thankful it has not affected his brain or any other vital organs.

Because of Shiloh's condition, the family has been under immense strain. With 24-hour care required for their young son, Fernando and Rhonda have to almost take turns working. Right now Fernando is out to work, while Rhonda had to give up her job at a plant nursery.

Fortunately, with a strong family support, the parents say Shiloh's two brothers and sister pitch in to help.

But they want to do more for this young boy.

With local doctors describing Shiloh's case as difficult, according to the family, they have looked outside for help.

They have turned to Massachusetts General Hospital, which they say specialise in conditions such as Shiloh's.

From 2004 they were in communication with officials at that hospital who have given them hope that they can help their son.

They feel more confident and positive with the feedback from overseas doctors.

Fernando says that while he was not knocking the health care offered in Barbados, he was "going where he was getting positive advice and given hope". Doctors here, he says, were back and forth saying at one time they think it would be difficult to help their son get better, and then at another saying they had hope.

Correspondence from the foreign hospital indicates that they are interested in taking on Shiloh's case and while they will do the operation for free, the family will have to come up with the costs to foot the rehabilitation and recovery bill. This could easily run close to $10 000.

Friends overseas have already tried to raise funds for Shiloh but have come up short.

Another Barbados overseas organisation has also joined the cause.

Rhonda and Fernando want help for their son as soon as possible, especially since Shiloh's last MRI shows the growth on his back is placing pressure on his lungs.

Still Shiloh smiles through it all.

He believes laughter is the best therapy for him.

"You got to be strong and you got to believe," he says, still smiling.

It's Tuesday afternoon and Shiloh is patiently awaiting the 2:45 p.m. World Cup match featuring France and Spain.

France is Shiloh's team and he was hailing for them.

Meanwhile, he and his parents are also hoping that Barbadians will hail for him and help him achieve his goal – to walk again.

carolmartindale@nationnews.com