[ad_1]
On a cold November evening outside the local pub in the seaside town of Portsmouth, John McFaul, sitting with his son-in-law, saw that there was a missed call on his phone. He excused himself and moved to a quieter place to return the call from an unknown number in Paris, a call he had been expecting for weeks.
At this point in his life, McFaul had already been on a remarkable journey, from losing his right leg above the knee after a motorcycle accident when he was 19, to becoming a bronze medalist at the 2008 Beijing Paralympics, to becoming talented orthopedic doctor.
Now, news of his latest career change was just a phone call away as he hurried to dial the number. After all, you don’t want to keep the Director General of the European Space Agency (ESA) waiting.
The call didn’t last long. “John, I am pleased to inform you that we have considered your application and you have been successful,” CEO Josef Aschbacher told him. McFaul, it was to be announced at a ceremony in Paris, was one of 16 people selected for the latest class of ESA astronauts. It also meant breaking a glass ceiling: he was to become the world’s first astronaut with a disability in the 64-year history of modern space exploration.
He was also, as you would expect, speechless.
McFaul returned to his seat and raised a glass with his son-in-law, taking a moment to think. What would his 19-year-old self think of all this?
He reflected on his mantra, which comes from a line his father told him shortly after his accident in September 2000 while on a gap year in Thailand and the frustrating months of recovery that followed.
He can still recall vivid memories of those dark moments. There was the night in Rowehampton Hospital’s amputee rehabilitation wing when she couldn’t sleep through her deep sobbing. “The only thing I could think of was to put pen to paper,” says McFaul. “I had a travel photo album that I had just come back from, so I turned to the back page and wrote this poem.” He titled it: “Opportunity”.
The last four lines read:
And while my tears grace this page, they are not of sadness, regret, despair, or guilt,
But madness, to have neglected the fact that my heart still beats,
And that behind the doors to which I now reach,
An opportunity arises.
The poem sums up his attitude towards his newly acquired handicap and the situation he finds himself in: “It was not the end of my life as a man with two legs, it was only the beginning of my life as a man with one leg,” he says. “But it was it was my great responsibility to open those doors. They were ajar, and it was purely my responsibility to open them and walk through them.”
He took that energy and fire and used it to become a Paralympian. At the 2008 Beijing Games, he won bronze in the 100 meters (T42). His friends and family were also on hand to provide close support. That Christmas, his father bought him an atlas, perhaps to remind him that he still had a life full of adventure. On the inside page, he wrote a line that McFaul now considers an “unconscious mantra.”
It read: “Son, always go the extra mile. Life will reward you.”
All these thoughts raced through McFall’s head as he sat in the pub, a man now headed for space. The ESA application itself was a serious undertaking. He started it in February 2021 while working long days, transferred to the ITU (intensive care unit) when COVID-19 swept his hospital, when McFaul received a message from a close friend and consultant. “His words were something like, ‘John, they’re looking for Paralympians to be astronauts. You have to apply,’” McFaul recalled.
The consultant had heard all about McFall’s life during the long shifts at the hospital. It was the first time in 13 years that ESA had hired a new intake of astronauts, and it seemed impossible to miss. McFaul thought it sounded funny, but he went through the personality specifications, which listed traits like: “good in hostile environments,” “excellent communicator,” “ability to process large amounts of information.” He wondered if maybe it would be perfect. He had a medical education and the necessary experience. Why not? he thought.
Time is precious for McFaul, who is a father of three young children, and what follows will be a huge commitment. He underwent an extensive six-stage process that included an eight-hour workday of psychomotor and memory tests in Hamburg, Germany, as well as extensive interviews with former astronauts and senior ESA executives at their base in Paris. He also had a one-on-one meeting with Aschbacher himself.
In the interviews, the psychologists wanted to know how he would react in uncomfortable situations and whether he really thought about the bigger picture. He was hit with questions like, “You’re talking to a group of 10-year-olds. How do you tell them you’re going into space, but you might not come back?”
They also asked: “This uses millions of tons of carbon dioxide when part of the space program is Earth observation and climate change monitoring… How do you justify that? Are you comfortable with that on a personal level?’
McFaul says: “Broadly speaking, these were interview-style questions that asked you difficult questions, but relied on your answers as an individual rather than your knowledge of a specific subject area.”
Apparently, he says, they were satisfied with his answers. Now comes the task of sending it into space. Starting in April, McFaul will work with ESA and NASA on a feasibility test designed to determine whether it is possible for him to complete a mission to the International Space Station. The problem is, it’s never been done before.
As of now, the answer to the feasibility test is that they don’t know. “You could probably break the test down into three separate parts,” says McFaul. “What difficulties being an amputee will cause undertaking some of the training tasks on Earth, whether it’s basic training or pre-mission tasks or mission-specific tasks. Part Two: What are the difficulties of putting me in a spaceship? what spaceship or platform am i launched on, what are the difficulties if any that could cause me problems? Does the spacecraft need to be adapted? And then you have the third part in low land or beyond.
“I want to be involved, I want to be part of the team and do spacewalks and maintain the equipment out there. I want to do everything all the other astronauts do and contribute to the team. I’m not there as a sign or a space tourist.”
Nor as a representative of the many physically disabled people around the world, he explains. McFaul acknowledges that there is a chance to try to put disability on the employers’ agenda, but is careful to describe his role in doing so.
“I am little aware that I am not representative of the entire disabled population. I have a very clear, static disability, there are people with more complex disabilities,” he explains.
“It is important to recognize that this is a small step in addressing the larger issue of inclusion in all areas of disability employment. So it’s not The John Show, it’s a stepping stone to get people talking more about disability because the more people talk about it, the less stigma there is…the more opportunities in life they’ll have. “
The new class of astronauts were announced last week at a ceremony in Paris. On stage, McFaul beamed, and as he walked past the microphone, he promised he had a lot to offer in ESA’s attempt to put a physically disabled person into space.
“The idea is that I’m an astronaut, like all other astronauts and astronauts, doing scientific research in space, maintaining the spacecraft inside and out, and I have exactly the same schedule and payroll, and I work alongside my fellow astronauts,” says McFaul.
“I guess it’s like being a doctor—I’m not a paradoctor. I’m a doctor and it’s going to be the same; I’m an astronaut.”
[ad_2]
Source link