By Peter Goff in Beijing
(Filed: 20/03/2005)

http://news.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?
xml=/news/2005/03/20/nchin20.xml

Four years ago, Jason Clarke, a fit young father from Dublin, was
left paralysed from the neck down after his ex-girlfriend threw a
bottle at his head during an argument on New Year's Eve.



Mr Clarke, then 31, suffered three strokes and was "a vegetable, to
all intents and purposes", says his family. Doctors wanted to switch
off his life support, but his parents refused to let him die.

For three years they sought help from several clinics in Ireland and
the United Kingdom, paying more than £100,000 for nine months'
treatment in the Royal Hospital, a specialist neurological centre in
Putney, south-west London. Some progress was made, but it was
painfully slow. By May last year, Mr Clarke, a physiotherapist
himself, still could not stand.

His head had to be supported by a brace, he dribbled constantly and
was fed through a tube inserted into his stomach.

Now, after just 10 months' intensive treatment in a Beijing clinic
run by Deng Pufang, the son of China's late leader, Deng Xiaoping,
Mr Clarke's recovery has been little short of miraculous. This
weekend, he is going home to Ireland.

Thanks to the attentions of a personal carer, 24 hours a day, seven
days a week, in a clinic with more than 1,000 highly qualified staff
to tend to fewer than 350 patients, Mr Clarke can now walk with a
stick and feed and wash himself.

Although his speech is still halting, he can make jokes about pretty
girls and speaks of his desire to climb the Great Wall in coming
months. Top of the list is seeing his nine-year-old son, Simon, from
a short-lived earlier marriage. "I really can't wait to see him,
he's just great," Mr Clarke said last week. "I'll be able to play
with him again now I've got better."

He has been treated with a blend of eastern and western medicine,
and up to 40 intensive therapy sessions a week. The medical costs
for his family were just £7,000.

Back home, the family's insurance company had refused to cover the
cost of the Royal Hospital, claiming that Mr Clarke could have
received similar treatment in Ireland, something his parents dispute.

In any case, his improvement in Britain was slow when compared with
Beijing. "The progress Jason has made here is incredible," says his
mother, Peggy, 63. "We were afraid to wish for it but he is becoming
his old self again. China has really shown up our healthcare system."

Last week, her son was the guest of honour at an Irish embassy party
in Beijing, where he clinked glasses of Guinness with diplomats on
St Patrick's Day. The ambassador, Declan Kelleher, praised
his "heroic efforts" and gave him a Chinese kite. "Like you, Jason,
this kite can soar to great heights," the ambassador said. As Mr
Clarke stood up on his own for the presentation, he was met with
thunderous applause.

The inspiration behind the clinic, Deng Pufang, was paralysed from
the waist down when thrown from the window of a university dormitory
during the Cultural Revolution, after his father was purged.

A powerful figure in China, his clinic is exceptionally well funded
but also benefits from a highly qualified, cheap, workforce. "The
difference is not just about cost, it's about attitude to
healthcare," says Seamus Thompson, a family friend and former member
of the Irish Wheelchair Association (IWA), who introduced the
Clarkes to the clinic. "Here, the patient is at the centre of
everything."

Soon after Mr Clarke arrived, more than 25 specialists from all over
China met for a case conference to discuss his treatment.

They devised a rigorous daily programme of physiotherapy,
occupational therapy, hydrotherapy, psychotherapy, music therapy,
speech therapy, recreational therapy and acupuncture.

Until now, most foreigners have come to China for traditional
remedies but Li Jianjun, the head of the clinic, plans to leave at
least 10 beds open to patients from Britain and Ireland who have
suffered spinal injuries and strokes. "The rates are very reasonable
and, as you see with Jason, the results are very good," he said.

He predicted that other Chinese hospitals would start touting for
foreign clients. "On the medical front there is no problem," Mr Li
said. "What we need to get over are some policy issues, such as
getting international insurance companies to agree to pay for
treatment in China."

In Beijing, Mr Clarke kept in touch with his family via a computer
and video camera set up in his private suite. As his mother cast her
mind back to the initial attack, she could scarcely believe that he
had come so far.

Her son had been at a party in Dublin with his girlfriend of two
years, Jenny. They argued outside a marquee as revellers danced
inside. In a rage, she flung a bottle that hit him on the head. He
collapsed and when medics tried to revive him, he suffered three big
strokes.

His girlfriend was later found guilty of assault and sentenced to
200 hours of community service. She has not visited him since the
incident, but according to his mother, Mr Clarke occasionally blurts
out her name. Mrs Clarke said he calls out "Jenny" to no one in
particular, followed by "I still love her."

Although the family had full health insurance, the system "failed us
miserably", says Mrs Clarke, who was recovering from breast cancer
at the time. Her son was put in a geriatric ward, where a doctor
told hospital staff: "If he starts to slip off, do not resuscitate
him. It would be inhumane." Mrs Clarke said: "At that stage we were
thinking it was over. We were talking about which of his organs we
should donate."

In desperation, her husband, Frank, who hosts an art show on Irish
television, told the doctor: "Just keep him alive or I'll sue you."

For weeks Jason Clarke's lungs and chest quivered and rattled, his
eyelids occasionally fluttering. A friend who had studied Chinese
massage came to see him, prodding and poking him, pulling his
fingers and toes.

"There was this big splutter, and all of a sudden the rattling in
his chest stopped," his mother says. "He started breathing normally
for the first time."

Still, the family was unhappy with his progress and arranged for his
transfer to the Royal Hospital, organising fund-raising events and
emptying savings accounts to pay for it. After nine months, however,
their son was unable even to hold his head up.

Their friend Mr Thompson, who knew China from taking wheelchair-
bound Irish tourists to Beijing, recommended that they take their
son to Mr Deng's clinic.

For 20 years, Mr and Mrs Clarke had been prominent fund-raisers for
the IWA. "All that time helping them out, we never thought we'd need
their help for one of our own," says Mrs Clarke. As he leaves
Beijing, Jason hopes that he will become more independent. "It has
been really brilliant here," he said, smiling broadly. "I can walk
again."