‘Having no arms is an unusual disability, there’s no guidebook. I made one up’ – The Irish Times

The drug thalidomide was approved for sale in Ireland in 1959 and was promoted to help prevent nausea in pregnant women. It turned out to have devastating side effects, harming and deforming the developing fetus. The international withdrawal date for this drug was November 26, 1961. However, the drug remained on the shelves of pharmacies and home medicine cabinets in some rural areas of Ireland until 1964.

There are currently around 40 people in Ireland whose mothers took thalidomide in good faith. These thalidomide survivors are an elderly population who were not originally expected to have long life expectancies. Their representative, the Irish Thalidomide Association, is in ongoing discussions with the government to highlight the impact of aging.

Irish Times photographer Nick Bradshaw has spent the past five months traveling around Ireland, taking portraits for the Thalidomide series with a Canon camera. Originally from Sneem, Co. Kerry, he now lives in Wicklow and has been working as a press photographer for over 30 years.

“For several years I have been photographing this group of people celebrating their drug cessation anniversaries. They gather in public at the end of November, usually outside the Dail or Taoiseach’s office. As time went on, I got to know this group and earlier this year I asked if anyone was interested in being a part of this series,” says Bradshaw.

[ ‘As a child I told people my fingers fell off and my hand shrunk in the wash’ ]

[ Ireland’s thalidomide survivors: ‘The State is only waiting for us to die’ ]

“I wanted to take respectful and intimate portraits of these people and what some call ‘their injuries’ and others call ‘disabilities.’ They knew in advance that the portrait would include injuries. ”

Bradshaw visited people’s homes and workplaces. “Once we arrived, we talked, and then we moved on.” He observed people moving through the space and throughout the day, taking many portraits of each subject. News photographers (or reporters) don’t usually share or copy photos with their subjects before publication, but Bradshaw did just that with this edit.

“This is a very special, very personal and intimate series,” he explains. “It’s about trying to be respectful to people.”

finola cassidy

Finola Cassidy, 62, lives in Dublin. She is married and she has three children.

“My family and friends are my life. I love opera, classical music, Italy, and tennis. I played tennis for fun for years. I didn’t think I was bad at tennis because my way of doing things was so unique. A few years ago, I had to give up because my back and arms were weak. I really miss being able to hold a tennis racket. I instructed my children to bury it with the tennis racket. I left.”

[ Thalidomide survivors: Mediation on issues of financial support and State apology to get under way ]

Martin Murphy, Peggy Murphy

Martin Murphy, 62, lives in a separate house on the family farm in Templemichael, Co Cork, while his mother Peggy Murphy, 94, lived at home until recently.

Martin cannot speak or hear. He lost one ear and suffers from facial paralysis. He does his DIY all by himself and helps others who need it. he is single

Peggy recently had a fall and is currently in a rehab facility. She wants to go back to her home soon.

tommy burbage

Tommy Burbage, 62, lives in Portarlington, Co. Laois. He is married and has a daughter-in-law.

“I work at the Burbage, a family-run pub. I serve behind the bar. I’ve been working there for almost 40 years. I think when I started a pint was 45p. . Now it’s 5.40 euros. I’m crazy about horses and racehorses. I used to destroy them and ride them. I loved horses.”

mary duffy

Mary Duffy, 62, lives in Newcastle, Co. Wicklow. she is married

“I work as an artist, painter and photographer. I also do a lot of sailing dinghy.

“Lack of arms is a really rare disability. There’s no guidebook on how to deal with it. I had to make it up myself. When I left home at 17 to go to college, I had no choice but to build tables and counters. I came up with the idea of ​​carrying a bar stool with me so I can use it. It’s like an extension of my body. I take it everywhere.

“I can’t stand it when other people sit on my chair. I feel like the stool is part of my body. I can do so many things with it, so when someone else sits on it, I feel like I’m two years old again.” I feel like I can’t do anything on my own.”

Dr. Austin O’Carroll

Dr Austin O’Carroll (62) lives in Dublin. He is married, has two children, and works as a general practitioner in the city center.

“When I was a kid, I didn’t walk for years. Between the ages of five and 13, I broke my leg every year and had to reset it. It instilled a stoic nature in me. That quality was very helpful to me.

[ They call me Dr Chaos on occasion. I’m quite at home in a waiting room when people are acting out ]

“Ten years ago I thought I would be in a wheelchair by now, but that’s not the case. The more you can face your worst fears, the more resilient you become. It means you can cope with most things. To do.”

Gar Kilduff

Ger Kilduff, 64, lives in Mullingar, Co. Westmeath. She is married and has three children.

“I used to do a lot of sewing and knitting, but now I can only do a little. That loss is one of my biggest regrets. I don’t peel potatoes anymore because they’re too hard. It’s my last resort. Ask someone in your family for help. I’m stubborn.

“I looked at my hand and thought, “Oh, my God.” Most people would think that after this amount of time they wouldn’t care about their hand, but deep down they didn’t. People look at you, but sometimes they just look at your hands. You never get used to looking at your hands.”

John Stack

John Stack (60) lives in Tarbert, Co. Kerry. He is married and has three children.

“I’m a beef farmer. I come from a family of butchers. I have a herd of about 80 cows. I can do most things, but there are some things I can’t do. If a cow is giving birth, I I can’t help you with my hands. Every day has challenges, but you have to keep going.”

Professor John Carney

Professor John Carney, 61, lives in Dublin. He is married and has three children.

“I’m a lecturer in epidemiology at the Dublin Institute of Technology. I consider myself very lucky. I don’t have any internal damage of any kind. Everything is external.

“When I was a child, my parents treated me like everyone else, so I thought I was completely normal.” Now, what’s hard sometimes is people’s attitude towards the way I look. It’s infuriating. They don’t think I can even sign my name.”