Castlégar News October 19, 1986 POLLS: Testing the public's pulse By BRUCE LEVETT Canadian Press It is written that the term “public opinion” was first popularized one Jacques Necker, finance minister to Louis XVI of France. Necker wrote that public opinion was influencing the behavior of the Parisian financial markets. (There is no record that Necker ever carried his public opinion polling further to advise his monarch that the peasants were revolting. If he did, King Louis misunder- stood because’he died at the hands of his irate subjects.) In the ensuing 200 years, the art of testing the pulse of the public has evolved to the point where it covers not only financial trends and political considerations, but just about any subject upon which the public might have an opinion. Today pollsters proliferate. And they claim a high degree of accuracy. ODDS OF CALL How do they do it? Has a pollster ever phoned you up or knocked on your door? What are the odds that they ever will? Clara Hatton, vice-president and director of Canadian Gallup Poll Ltd., says “We do approximately 1,000 people a month on our regular Gallup. “If you live to be 75 years of age, your chances . . . are one in 20 that you would be interviewed once between the ages of 18 and 75.” The “regular Gallup” is the twice-weekly release pro- vided to newspapers that subscribe to the service, as opposed to specialized polls conducted for private clients. “We send people out to knock on doors,” says Hatton, who notes that there are “hundreds” of polling firms in Canada and that Gallup is “probably within the top 10 in size. “We select approximately 105 different areas which are representative of Canada (exclusive of the Yukon and Northwest Territories) and they're selected on the basis of community size and region. “We select a new area every sample we try.” HAVE A ROUTE The interviewers are given a map of the location, a starting point and a route. They “start with the third house in and interview at every second household from there. “We get our interviewers from many points — a lot of them are referrals from people who have worked for us for years,” says Hatton. “If we get desperate we can always go to Canada Manpower or school principals. “Our interviewing takes place during evening hours or on Saturdays.” The interviewers — both on foot and by telephone — use a standard questionnaire. “We doa number of telephone polls,” says Hatton, “and they're usually on a particular subject topic and slightly less lengthy than our normal omnibus,” which may produce several poll results on different topics. “Our basic door-knocking questionnaire usually takes about half an hour.” PROVIDE SAMPLE The 105 locations across the country give Gallup “a sample of Canadians who are old and poor, rich and educated, non-educated .. .” For a particular client, Gallup might be interested only in divoreed persons, says Hatton, “and you might have to do a lot of telephoning to reach one, but that is one of the advantages of telephone interviewing — you can make lephone calls very ly as opposed to door-to- door interviewing.” One of the most-heard criticisms of public opinion polling is that it tends to foster a bandwagon effect — that predicting victory for a political candidate inclines people to vote for that candidate to side with a winner. On the other hand, some people might tend to support the underdog. Hatton disputes such criticism, maintaining that if either of the above scenarios held true “we would be wrong 100 per cent of the time.” SHOW TRENDS Some attitudes are polled at intervals over the years, disclosing trends in public thinking and how they change. Capital punishment is a case in point. “When we started in the ‘40s (before hanging was abolished) there was far more leniency in the views of Canadians than there is now,” says Hatton. “There were about 54 or 55 per cent in favor of hanging. “Now (since hanging has been ended) it's about 70 per cent in favor.” Do politicians utilize public opinion polls for image-pro- tection? “The smart ones measure public opinion because . . . they need to know all they can about what is going on. I don't think that, having taken a poll, they necessarily follow the results against their own judgment.” The capital punishment issue again is used as an example. HOW ACCURAT! Gallup claims to have been “right on” on its assessment on the last federal election. The company says its poll results are accurate to within an average of four percentage points 19 times out of 20. Only about 10 per cent of Gallup's polls are on political issues. The rest, says Hatton, are “just about anything you can think of — a lot of social issues, women in the workplace, attitudes toward gun control and capital punishment, attitudes toward the education system, beer in grocery stores...” Most of Gallup's clients are from private industry. And the cost? “It would differ with the length of the poll, the time it takes, the number of interviews you wanted done, the type of person you wanted to contact — for instance doctors. Doctors are very expensive to reach. “If you just wanted to reach the average Canadian and to catch him at home, it’s far less expensive. “A normal poll of 1,000 people, with just 15 to 20 minutes allotted to each, would cost in the area of $20,000." HAVE CONSCIENCE “They (politicians) have been shown for years that most Canadians would reinstitute it,” says Hatton, “and yet we still don't have capital punishment back. They weigh their own consciences against what the public thinks.” Mechanically, polling works this way: friendship. future. With all best wishes. provincial Election Day ; October 22 scober 19, 1986 Dear Friends: ers will enay vot nt Md ft this + Ko On Election mate ae on the future © portant deci make an imp: “ tamilies. d your ta Sou ate and forest discriminatory | f protessionals in nen — : health a Mat reduc ‘ an le of all ages statt reduct! a education se 5 hose wit particularly ' rs to think about tituents deserve cs. How serious matte There ore or 22nd. All cons Viti Octo dless ot their po iness. vote is your Own bus hat you rmine wha ect will dete on fe) Nealth and social el ext four years: Pp future, and lease choose r the n : Participate in YOU caretully. sincerely. Chris D'ArCY: Rossland-Trail To Our Friends at Celgar Pulp... As Celgar Pulp heads into a new chapter under new ownership, our thoughts go with you all. As your neighbours at Southern Wood Products, we look forward to continuing a good working relationship and All of us at Westar Timber are proud of our long association with you and we wish you every success in the LN ess * ‘| WANT OuT' Life wheelchair Editor's note: Former cyclist Jocelyn Lovell is among those campaigning for funds for medical research on spinal injuries, though a possible cure is years distant. This is part of a series on spinal-injury victims, their lives and future hopes. By SHERYL UBELACKER Canadian Press TORONTO — The verdict is delivered over a hospital bed instead of in a courtroom and the voice belongs to a doctor, not a judge. But for thousands of spinal injury victims, the words “You'll never walk again’ carry the same devastating sentence — life in the prison of a wheelchair. A few of those who hear that phrase miraculously defy the medical odds and regain the use of their limbs. But for most whose spinal cords have been damaged or fully severed, piecing together their shattered lives means only one thing — months of physical and emotional rehabilitation. While many praise the efforts of hospitals that are dedieated to helping spinal injury victims accept their physical limitations and become as self-sufficient as pos- sible, others resent the air of hopelessness they say is generated by the mainstream medical community. Jocelyn Lovell, Canada's premier cyclist before a collision with a truck in August 1983 left him paralysed below the shoulders, says he was told during his seven. month stay at Lyndhurst Hospital, a Toronto facility specializing in rehabilitating the spinal injured, that he would eventually accept being a quadriplegic. TOUGH INDEED “Here I was, new to this wheelchair game, and I left there thinking: ‘This acceptance thing, I've got to face it, keep a stiff upper lip. 've got to start being a man,’ ” he says. ‘I thought ¢ycling was tough, then this is a tough game indeed.’ “Acceptance? That's when I lean back in my wheel- chair and I think, ‘Well, I'm alive, I've got my heart and my brain,’ But it just doesn’t seem to be enough that I'm alive. “I can honestly say that I hate being in this damn wheelchair,” Lovell says. spitting out the words. “I hate it. And what I want is out.” Lovell, who lives in Toronto with his wife, Sylvia Burka-Lovell, a former world speed-skating champion, is channelling the energy and determination he reserved for his 20-year career in cycling into a new crusade — trying to attract the attention and funding needed to find a cure for spinal cord injuries AIDS SOCIETY He has become probably the most highly visible although certainly not the first, Canadian member of the Spinal Cord Society, a maverick international organi zation dedicated to finding a cure for such injuries. For the society's 50-year-old founder and president, Charles Carson, the enemy to the cause of finding a cure is the media image of the smiling, wheelchair-bound Mishap che Editor's note: Former Lakehead University hockey player Irmo Marini is among almost 20,000 Canadians left partially or wholly paralysed by spjnal cord injuries. This is part of a series about such victinsg, their treatment and research in the field By CHERYL UBELACKE! Canadian Press TORONTO — A sharp, searing pain like burning coals flamed through Irmo Marini’s body as he rebounded with a thud from the arena’s boards, then slumped motionless to the ice. Moments before, thigh muscles pumping, he had rushed up the rink with his Lakehead University hockey teammates in pursuit of the puck Until his skate blade slipped Catapulted head-first into the boards, he flopped to the ice, no longer aware of his legs but sensing his arms as they flapped helplessly at his sides, a ludicrous mis interpretation of his mind's internal command to “Get up. ALTERED LIFE ~~ That split-second mishap in February 1981 altered Marini's life forever as his name was added to the growing ledger — three Canadians a day — left paralysed by spinal cord injuries Diagnosis — quadriplegia After spending three weeks in a hospital in Thunder Bay, Ont., with traction weights on his neck, Marini was flown to the trauma unit at Sunnybrook Medical Centre in Toronto, where he began the almost year-long road back to a healthy but radically different life “That's where I had most of my rough times,” says Marini, 28, shifting his shoulders against the back of his wheelchair as he recalls having his spine surgically fused and his subsequent sentence to 30 painful days on a respirator after one lung collapsed ‘LET MEGO’ “I remember the anesthesiologist said: ‘We re going to have to put you back on the respirator for a long period athlete, dribbling a basketball in a tournament for the disabled. “That gives the public the impression it's great to be paralysed,” says Carson, a crusty, outspoken paraplegic from Fergus Falls, Minn. “I think it's time they found out being paralysed is rotten.” Worst of all, the media image “does a hell of a lot of damage to the 99 per cent (of the paralysed) that can't do that,” he says, likening his spinal injury in a plane crash 10 years ago to someone “cutting off the electrical power plant in town — everything goes.” CURE, NOT CARE Armed with its motto, Cure — Not Care, and a logo showing the familiar stick figure in a wheelchair with a large white X slashed through it, the society's more than 180 chapters worldwide (nine in Canada) raise money to finance various spinal cord research projects aimed at eventual cure — “not to buy new wheelchairs,” snaps Its list of research projects includes development in the United States of a fairly primitive form of “com- puterized walking,” in which paralysed muscles are ically stimulated by . In Canada, one of the scientists receiving Spinal Cord Society funding is Hamilton neurosurgeon Dr. Robert who is experi i with a cooling technique he helped develop about 15 years ago to minimize spinal cord damage at the time of the injury. Using a tiny device that straddles the sheath surrounding the cord, the area is cooled to 6 C for four hours in a bid to reduce hemorrhaging and swelling at the injury site. MUST BE PROMPT Hansebout, director of the acute spinal injuries unit at Hamilton Civic Hospital, said in an interview it is crucial that the treatment begin within six hours of the accident — admittedly an often unrealistic goal when the patient is hurt in a remote area or a place served by a hospital inexperienced in spinal cord injuries. Hansebout's cooling” whieh is by large doses of the anti-inflammatory drug cortisone, is based on the theory that when the spinal cord is injured, the body marshals an unknown toxic substance to destroy axons, or filament-like fibres that carry nerve impulses via the cord to and from the brain. “By reducing the blood flow, we reduce the harmful substance,” says Hansebout. “At least, that's the theory.” In animal experiments, Hansebout found that laboratory dogs with damaged spines which were either given a two-week treatment of cortisone or had their injury site cooled, were able to walk poorly after about two months. ABLE TO RUN However, dogs given both treatments within one hour of being injured “eventually were able to run,” although they suffered some spasticity and difficulty controlling their bladders. While admitting the technique is not a miracle cure and success with human patients has been limited, Hansebout believes “if we can get the spinal cord victim early enough, they maybe we'll have a chance that it won't be so severely damaged.” a this time,” And I said: ‘No way, just let me go.” “There was a pause, and he said: OK .. . if you want.’ Maybe he was just testing me. And then I started thinking . . . about my family and about Darlene (now his wife), and I said, ‘No, put me back on.’ ” For three months, he had another unwelcome companion — the halo vest, a contraption of metal bars and screws that kept his head and neck immobile while the vertebrae healed. “I looked like something from outer space,” Marini jokes, then turns serious. “Darlene would come in every morning and I'd say ‘Pull the plug Spinal cord injuries have left close to 20,000 Canadians as paraplegics, with paralysis of the legs and part of the torso, or quadripiegics, with additional motor loss in the arms and hands. Traffic accidents account for more than half such injuries, while a full 10 per cent are suffered by swimmers in diving mishaps MOST ARE MEN More than half of those left paralysed are under 30 and more than three-quarters are male, but the number of women is increasing alarmingly as lifestyles change. In one of four such accidents, alcohol or drugs are a factor — including the person with a bravery quotient boosted by booze who swan dives into a backyard pool filled with a metre of water, and the drunk driver who slams into a hapless victim Weaned from the respirator at Sunnybrook, Marini was transferred to Lyndhurst Hospital in Toronto, where an army of staff specializing in rehabilitation — doctors, nurses and a wide variety of therapists tallied his physical balance shee:. He could move his neck and shoulders, biceps and wrists. But the muscles in the rest of his body, including those in his fingers, would not respond. Sense of touch was also lost, although his fingers could discern extreme cold and extreme hot For the next six months, Marini spent hours in occupational and physical therapy coaxing any movement from his muscles and relearning many of the taken-for. WHEELCHARI-BOUND . . . Williams Loke’s Rick Han- sen is on his way home across Canada, closing out an around-the-world tour by wheelchair. Hansen is making the tour to raise money tor spinal cord research and to promote interest in wheelchair sports New tax form scrapped OTTAWA (CP) The federal government has scrapped a new tax form sent to thousands of handicapped Canadians which sought detailed informa tion on their toilet habits. Groups representing the handicapped reacted angrily when the government mailed about 10,000 of the forms to people applying for a disability tax exemption. Health Minister Jake Epp decided late last month to granted tasks he had mastered in childhood — eating. washing and dressing — as well as the new skill of propelling a wheelchair “It's just like training for the Olympics,” says Marini, as he hooks his thumb through the handle of a mug and uses leverage to raise it to his lips. “Except in this context you're training for survival.” MOURNED LOSS For almost a year following the accident, he was plagued by images of what he used to do — weightlifting. hockey, just walking. “I golfed, but not a great deal,” he says. “I remember thinking and saying I'd give anything to go golfing, yet if I was able to, I probably wouldn't do it that much.” Hand in hand with these visions came despair and a desire to end it all as he — like other vietims of paralysis mourned the lost parts of his body Lying in a bed or tucked in a wheelchair, “things looked so bleak,” says Marini, admitting he often contem plated suicide. “Everyone thinks about it. I don’t know if they all voice it.” A Lyndhurst study for the period 1973 to 1980 shows suicide accounted for 10.8 per cent of deaths among discharged patients, a jump from 4.2 per cent in a similar study conducted from 1945 to 1973 FEELS HELPLESS Parlaysis shatters a person's self-concept and self-esteem, says Lyndhurst psychiatrist Dr. Paul Sterling, especially because of the fitness trend in today's society “Some people get into difficulty because they are unable to get beyond the limitations of their disability,” says Sterling. “Certainly in the initial stages, that's what hits you, those limitations. You're faced with your own helplessness, your dependency on others for the simplest kind of things.” With paralysis comes bladder and bowel dysfunction, the inability to perspire or get goosebumps to control body temperature — sitting in a cold room can be torture shred another 60,000 of the forms which had been printed but not yet mailed. In angry telegrams to the government, the Coalition of Provincial Organizations of the Handicapped described the forms as “intrusive, paternalistic and offensive.” The Canadian Hearing Society said they showed “astonishing ignorance and lack of sensitivity.” ged Marini's life almost non-existent or reduced sexual function, and spasms, ranging from twinges for some patients to violent contractions that can throw others out of their wheelchairs. Surprisingly, many others suffer gnawing or burning pain, sometimes constantly, in limbs otherwise devoid of feeling OTHER PROBLEMS And because of the need for catheters, “paras and quads” are plagued by bladder infections and kidney stones. As well, they must always be on guard against pressure sores from lying or sitting in one position. For quadriplegics — many of whom can't yell or cough — a simple lung infection can be life-threatening Patients endure great uncertainty about how such drastic physical changes will affect relationships, says Sterling. “with parents, with their spouse, children, friends, how it will affect their social life, their sexual life, their career and it's hard for them to get answers The answers come only by experience.” Marini considers himself one of the lucky ones Darlene was determined to make their relationship work and to go ahead with their September 1962 wedding, despite the knowledge that few marriages survive the strains when one partner has a spinal injury I guess | just loved him too much to take off.” the athletic looking blonde says matter of factly. “Because I knew that it wouldn't bother me, him being in a wheel chair. It didn't change my feelings Marini has “got on” with his life, returning for his masters degree in psychology at Lakehead, where he has become the school’s first careers counsellor for students. But he still voices the feelings of others who have been left paralysed “Let's say I haven't accepted the injury, but I've adjusted to it,” he says wistfully. “A lot of guys in chairs blame God. I don’t blame Him any more “I think maybe He just had His head turned when | had the accident