Investigative journalist Livvy Haydock, known for working with some of the most renowned criminals in the world, received a shock when she was told she had multiple sclerosis (MS). But the convicts she interviews provided her with support, which was the most unexpected thing.
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| Image Source - Google | Image by <br><a href= BBC News |
By Mehran Mazari
Livvy says, "I've always been told I'm not afraid of anything, but this MS worries me. I feel so little.
The 38-year-old has had an unconventional existence, creating and delivering documentaries on subjects including girl gangs and child soldiers in the Congo. Her most recent hit, Gangster: The Narrative of John Palmer for BBC Sounds, explores his role in the largest armed theft in British history—the 1983 Brink's-Mat gold bullion robbery.
Her teenage love of American rap music contributed to her interest in gangs, violence, and the criminal underworld.
She explains, "I wanted to understand it." "People who commit crimes frequently are not allowed to discuss them from their point of view."
She has gained a better understanding of what drives people to take such risks and how, at times, their decisions may seem "logical" to us.
A plot twist in Livvy's own life started to develop as she was researching the drug war in the Philippines in 2016.
She tells BBC Access All that "there was something really wrong with my legs." "I was certain the food was suspect."
After completing her movie, Livvy went back to the UK, but the symptoms lingered. She saw the doctor multiple times over the ensuing four years, but she never received a diagnosis. She was advised to get a lumbar puncture in 2020 to "rule out MS" by testing the spinal fluid. But the outcome supported the exact reverse.
MS develops when the myelin protective coating around nerve fibers is destroyed, preventing communication between the brain and body. The spinal cord may be impacted, which may compromise balance, mobility, and vision.
Following a call from a neurologist confirming Livvy's MS diagnosis, she was informed she would have another call within the next week to discuss her treatment options. But despite her best efforts to remain composed, weeks went by without phone contact. She claims, "I felt like I had been handed a grenade."
She diverted her attention by concentrating on the documentary she was doing about kidnap gangs because "it was easier to think about," according to the subject.
But by the time Christmas rolled around, "the grenade exploded," and a small family argument became "something out of EastEnders."
When the nurse finally called, Livvy began to comprehend the diagnosis and realized she would need to carefully plan her future, especially in light of her risky research.
She has lost track of how many frigid nights she has spent waiting outside for dealers to show up for interviews. They are the least trustworthy individuals in the world, she quips. She frequently scolds people who are late for bothering her.
But in addition to being something she can immerse herself in, her work has also been a source of comfort and compassion for her.
I encounter a lot of disabilities in the criminal justice system, she claims. The bulk of the gang members I spoke with at one point either used wheelchairs or had persistent health problems as a result of gunshot wounds.
She commonly encounters incapacitating conditions like sickle-cell illness. Excruciating pain is brought on by red blood cells that become distorted and sticky, which block blood arteries and reduce oxygen delivery.
One of her acquaintances fell prey to a honey trap while undergoing treatment for it in a hospital. He received Instagram messages from a rival gang that claimed to be a woman and raved about how "hot" he was.
"The opposing gang went to visit him in the hospital and attacked him because he was there and had called for them to come to see him. It was revolting, she claims.
A former US-based gang member is another of her favorite people to talk to about life with a disability. During the height of his fame, he oversaw 30 drug dens in Dallas. Then he was attacked by his group.
He was shot in the head; the bullet passed directly through both visual nerves; they did not intervene; he was allowed to perish. He managed to stand up, and now he's totally blind," she claims.
Livvy chats with several offenders who also look after their disabled relatives and family.
"There are so many children taking care of their parents. Although I won't use it to excuse their acts, having knowledge of what motivates them to seek out money is helpful, she claims.
Due to Livvy's MS, her legs, vision, and well-known MS symptom of "electric shocks" down her sides are all affected.
Occasionally, she has trouble finding the correct words, and as a result, "I end up saying bizarre sentences because the messages in my brain don't work."
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| Image Source - Google | Image by <br><a href= BBC News |
Every six weeks, she receives an injection as part of her treatment to lessen the myelin sheath's scarring and destruction.
She wasn't prepared to face other challenges related to the disease, such as whether to disclose her MS to potential partners.
She asserts, "Trying to date is difficult enough." I want to find a partner and start a family, but this feels unfair.
To manage her finances, health, and safety in her atypical profession as a freelancer, she is currently forced to reevaluate her life plan and career.
She claims, "I'm always afraid to take time off because it's a tough industry." "You worry that they won't ask again, so you never say no to jobs."
She intends to continue confiding in her acquaintances who are aware of her situation even if her career does change.
"There is a man I know who served a very long period in prison and really fell from his bunk, suffering terrible back injuries as a result. Because we can relate to one other so well, we talk a lot.
It's amusing how quickly we switch from discussing robberies to asking about someone's health.
