PARALYZED WOMAN ENCOURAGES OTHERS LIKE HER

JACKSON -- If mental toughness were considered a virtue, Dianna Seabaugh would be a natural for a halo.

There is no halo to complement the curly blonde hair or fair complexion. What is evident, however, is a compelling smile and a relentless pursuit of bringing meaning to a life that nearly seemed finished just over a year ago.

She casts a wry smile as she surveys her torso and legs after being asked if the seat belt she wore on an October afternoon in 1993 saved her life. "Did it save my life? Yeah, I suppose it did," she said. "Sort of."

The Jackson resident, once an aerobic instructor and rock climber, looks much younger than 45. "I guess the active life has had something to do with that," she said.

There is still plenty of fight in her smile.

The car accident, which injured her spinal chord and rendered her paralyzed from the shoulders down, first appeared to have left her helpless.

But her mental outlook and a family that provided her with spiritual sustenance enabled her to hurdle seemingly overwhelming obstacles.

She can find irony instead of self-pity in questions about seat belts and the like because she has managed to become productive once again.

"I've heard that God never gives you more than you can handle. Well, there were times when I wondered," said Seabaugh, resplendent in a purple sweat suit.

After helping several victims of spinal chord injuries, Seabaugh believes her true calling is to spread some of that mental toughness to others who are not as strong.

"I talked to this young guy named Tommy from Hayti," Seabaugh said. "No, I think his name is Tony," interrupted Seabaugh's home-care nurse Debbie James. "I think it's Tommy, but anyway, he was feeling sorry for himself because he had to be fitted with a prosthesis after losing his leg to a shotgun blast," Seabaugh said.

"I told Tommy or Tony, `Hey, can you scratch your nose? Can you comb your hair? Well, I'd just like 24 hours in your shoes."

The amputee from Hayti didn't come around immediately. But he recently sent Seabaugh a letter that simply said thanks. "He's now working in a men's clothing store and doing much better," beamed Seabaugh. "That kind of thing makes me feel good, that maybe I made a difference in somebody's life."

Since she can't have her wish, Seabaugh has used technology to have the next best thing. Her wheelchair is fitted with a sip-n-puff, a straw-like device that enables her to call herself on the phone and turn on any appliance or electrical gadget in the house. By sipping and puffing on the straw, she is able to run through a series of commands that puts her in control of the television, stereo or anything else that can be turned on or off with the flip of a switch.

The electronic box, which is situated at the end of her right arm, costs $27,000 and is made possible only with the help of her insurance policy. "She can do anything with the sip-n-puff but get out of bed or into the chair," James said.

James, who works for Complete Health Care Inc., of Cape Girardeau, which is subsidized by the Division on Aging, is one of three certified nurses assistants who goes to Seabaugh's home and helps her through as normal a daily routine as possible.

"Debbie is my arms and legs, my lifeline," Seabaugh said.

When she is not at home, Seabaugh can be found working with a physical therapist. An electronic device attached to her arms stimulates the nerves to move her fingers.

The goal is to force the nerves into enough activity to give Seabaugh back some feeling in her hands. "I don't think I'll ever get feeling back in every arm and leg, but I do think I can get to the point where I can feed myself again," she said.

Said James, "She will be able to do it. She's that strong-willed of a person."

So strong-willed that she intends to go back to school to complete her degree in computer science. "I may go to SIU-Carbondale, because that seems to be the most accessible around here," Seabaugh said. "But another decision I have to make is whether or not I would want to move to a larger metropolitan area and go back to counseling people who are paralyzed or in a similar situation."

She knows she can never go back to what she used to do for a living. "I can't be an aerobic instructor or work as a safety engineer," she said, smiling at the irony of the latter. "I will say, though, that I'm a lot better off than a lot of people. I still want to explore the choices."