{"id":8863,"date":"2025-07-18T20:16:00","date_gmt":"2025-07-18T11:16:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/inpsjapan.com\/en\/?p=8863"},"modified":"2025-07-20T01:11:39","modified_gmt":"2025-07-19T16:11:39","slug":"from-paris-to-a-wheelchair-guillain-barre-rehabilitation-and-the-power-of-solidarity","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inpsjapan.com\/en\/sdgs-2\/from-paris-to-a-wheelchair-guillain-barre-rehabilitation-and-the-power-of-solidarity\/","title":{"rendered":"From Paris to a Wheelchair: Guillain-Barr\u00e9, Rehabilitation, and the Power of Solidarity"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

By Katsuhiro Asagiri<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n
This personal account chronicles my unexpected and life-altering battle with Guillain-Barr\u00e9 Syndrome (GBS), contracted during a business trip in September 2024. After initial misdiagnoses and critical delays due to hospital refusals in Japan, I was ultimately hospitalized and treated through immunotherapy and intensive rehabilitation. The article highlights the essential, yet often underrecognized, role of physical and occupational therapists (PTs and OTs), alongside nurses and doctors, in my recovery journey. It also explores the deeper humanitarian lessons drawn from this experience, including empathy, global health inequality, and the need to protect healthcare access worldwide. With a particular emphasis on the Buddhist concept of \u201c<\/em>\u540c\u82e6\u201d (d\u014dku in Japanese, or shared suffering), I reflect on the moral and social responsibility to support care infrastructures\u2014especially in conflict zones where such systems are lacking. This story is a tribute to the power of rehabilitation and the quiet heroism of medical professionals.<\/em><\/sup><\/pre>\n\n\n
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Press Room in Paris with Kevin Lin, my colleague from Chicago (second from right) and the author (extreme right). Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
TOKYO (INPS JAPAN) \u2013<\/strong> In September 2024, I embarked on an international business trip filled with promising encounters and meaningful discussions across Central Asia and Europe. The experience was enriching\u2014marked by hospitality, collaboration, and dynamic cultural exchange. But just as my travels were concluding with covering a three day forum in Paris, everything changed in a single night. |JAPANESE<\/a> |CHINESE<\/a>|<\/p>\n\n\n
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I was put on oxygen, and given a battery of tests at American Hospital in Paris.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
Around 10 p.m. in my hotel room, I felt a sudden burning pain in both thighs and fingertips. Within minutes, the pain climbed up toward my chest. I began to sweat heavily, unable to sleep or lie flat. Alarmed, my colleague Kevin Lin rushed me to an emergency hospital. My oxygen level had dropped to 93 percent. I was hospitalized for three days, put on oxygen, and given a battery of tests. Despite the severity of the symptoms, I was told no life-threatening condition was detected, and I was advised to fly home as soon as possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kevin remained with me throughout. Determined to return home immediately, I purchased a Japan Airline one-way ticket to Tokyo and Kevin accompanied me to Charles de Gaulle Airport, ensuring I boarded my flight safely.Thanks to compassionate Japan Airlines flight attendants who let me stretch my legs, I survived the long flight home. But the worst had only just begun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Return to Japan: A System Under Stress<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n
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Japan Airline Airbus A350-900 credit: Wikimedia Commons.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
After one sleepless night in Tokyo, my condition worsened. The pain intensified; I could hardly stand. On the third day, I called for an ambulance. What followed was a chilling reminder of pandemic-era caution: four hospitals refused to admit me because of my recent travel history abroad. Thankfully, a fifth\u2014Shuwa Hospital<\/a>\u2014finally accepted me. Their doctors, after careful evaluation, suspected Guillain-Barr\u00e9 Syndrome<\/a> (GBS), a rare but dangerous autoimmune disorder in which the immune system attacks the nerves. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was referred to <\/a>Dokkyo Medical University Saitama Medical Center<\/a>, where I was admitted immediately. There, the true scope of my illness became clear. The paralysis wasn\u2019t limited to my legs. It reached my face\u2014I could no longer smile, blink normally, or slurp noodles. I learned that GBS could spread further to the throat and lungs, potentially making swallowing and breathing impossible. Fortunately, that line wasn\u2019t crossed. With early facial rehabilitation by a Speech-Language-Hearing Therapist <\/em>(ST), I gradually regained facial mobility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Pain, Posture, and the Paralysis of Daily Life<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n
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Dokkyo Medial University Hospital Credit: Wikimedia Commons<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
Despite treatment, I endured constant, excruciating pain\u2014burning sensations that intensified while lying down. Sitting at the edge of the bed offered temporary relief. For three straight weeks, I lived in a reclining wheelchair, night and day. This unnatural posture caused painful swelling of feet, requiring daily massages.<\/p>\n\n\n
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While receiving intravenous painkillers, I sat on the edge of the hospital bed to ease the pain rising from my legs, cooling my hands with a wet towel to cope with the burning sensation spreading from my fingertips. credit:Katsuhiro Asagiri.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
Adding to the ordeal was severe constipation, which began on the night of the first attack in Paris. Despite maximum medication, I didn\u2019t have a bowel movement for nearly two weeks. These overlapping symptoms pushed my body and spirit to the brink.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Medical intervention\u2014including immunoglobulin and steroid pulse therapies\u2014stabilized my condition. But by then, I had lost 13 kilograms, and my muscles had severely atrophied. I could not walk or stand. My life was now centered on the slow, uncertain road to rehabilitation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Quiet Heroes: PTs and OTs<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n
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The author practicing walking in the corridor of Amakusa Hospital\u2019s ward, using Nordic walking poles. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n
I was transferred to Amakusa Rehabilitation Hospital<\/a>, part of the Keiaikai medical group, on November 8, to begin the long road to recovery. What followed was nothing short of a miracle made possible by rehabilitation therapy. At Amakusa, I was assigned a doctor, physical therapists (PTs), and occupational therapists (OTs). Each day, I underwent three hours of intensive therapy, focused on rebuilding strength, retraining my muscles, and restoring basic motor functions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The PTs worked patiently to awaken my paralyzed limbs, guiding me through exercises that began with the simplest motions. The OT helped me regain the ability to move with coordination, maintain balance, and to gradually restore independence in daily life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
These therapists weren\u2019t just professionals\u2014they were lifelines. They believed in my recovery even when I couldn\u2019t. Thanks to their work, I gradually regained the ability to stand, then walk, and eventually begin reclaiming my normal life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
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