Limerick's Jamie Hartigan aims to tackle prejudices around dwarfism

LIMERICK’s very own Jamie Hartigan has been battling against the odds his entire life.

From his mum Caroline being told her son - who fit in the palm of her hand as a baby - would live for just two days, to his battling performances on The Voice of Ireland, the Rathbane man has taken life in his stride at every turn.

Jamie was born with Silver-Russell Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder, which causes restricted growth both before and after birth.

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One of more than 400 recognised types of dwarfism, the side effects can include low appetite, high blood pressure and heart disease.

Even before Jamie arrived into the world in 1990, the Health Board, as it was at the time, gave him a bleak outlook.

“Before I was born, they said there was no hope here. They said there would be no chance of me surviving. They warned she would suffer a miscarriage,” Jamie says.

When he was born, it wasn’t much better, he adds, saying: “They gave me 24 to 48 hours. And even past that, they gave me two weeks maximum.”

Unwilling to accept the recommendation of Irish medics, however, Jamie’s grandfather Billy, living in London at the time, sought a second opinion.

He identified a heart surgeon in Britain and wrote to her.

“From what I remember, he said, ‘from your God-gifted hands, could you see my grandson?’ Within two weeks, I was offered an appointment,” Jamie explains.

However, with the Health Board unwilling to fund his trip cross-channel, it was left to the generosity of Limerick people to help him out, through a benefit night.

“The surgeon was a lovely lady, a beautiful lady, inside and out. They had me diagnosed with something completely different here in Ireland, but when I went to see herself, she diagnosed me correctly,” Jamie explains.

It was only after a number of trips that the Health Board in Ireland relented and agreed to fund the trips based on his diagnosis.

“When I was 15, I was supposed to get a heart-and-lung operation. We were bagged up ready to go, waiting to get the operation. At the time, I didn’t think I was going to come home. But the surgeon did her usual check-up that day, and said, ‘it’s nothing short of a miracle. Your heart and lung have finally balanced out. You might never need an operation,” he recalls.

Remarkably, as he hits his 36th birthday this February, Jamie has never had to go under the knife, and recently even gave up his heart tablets.

Now, all he has is an inhaler for when he gets chesty.

“Two squirts of Ventolin, and I am brand new,” he laughs.

Despite the obvious physical challenges Jamie has faced, it was actually the harsh words and behaviour of his peers at school which almost did for him.

“The slagging would have started fairly innocent. But then it gradually got way worse when I went into secondary school, to the point where I was suicidal on many occasions,” he admits.

“I used to cry myself to sleep seven nights a week, and I was afraid of my life to go to school.”

Completing his education in the 2000s, Jamie counts his blessings that social media was not as widespread as it is now, meaning his home was something of a refuge.

Eventually, he fought back, recalling one particular incident early in his secondary school career at Sexton Street CBS.

“You’d have cases where people would pick you up, and dangle you in the air. I remember I was in first or second year, and there was a guy in sixth year. He was about six-foot two, and caught me by the scruff and lifted me up over his head. I shouldn’t say it, but when he lowered me down, I gave him a kick where the sun don’t shine - in between the legs - and I dropped him,” he recalls.

Unfortunately for young Jamie, his principal was watching on.

While he had to endure the customary telling-off for using foul language, he was then surprised by the response.

“He then put his hand out to shake my hand to say well done for backing up yourself,” Jamie smiles.

Even as a grown-up, and employed full-time in customer support by telecommunications firm Eir, he still finds himself mocked in general society, alongside his partner of 10 years, Megan (pictured below, with Jamie)

“They’d never do it to my face. But they’d pop their head out of a car window, and call me ‘midget’. You could have cases where they’d take pictures, they’d stop their car, you’d know they are recording videos. We’ve had cases where people create videos of myself and my partner and share them over Snapchat. It’s horrible.”

Remarkably, Jamie remains really pragmatic when asked how he deals with this.

“I always say, I wouldn’t like to have cancer, I wouldn’t like to be in a wheelchair. I wouldn’t like to be deaf, dumb or blind. There are a lot of other things I wouldn’t like to have in my life, or I wouldn’t like to suffer. So you take the good with the bad,” he says.

“No matter how good or how bad you have it, there is always someone worse, or someone better. That’s just the way to look at it.”

The expression ‘kids can be so cruel’ is borne out by one of Jamie’s experiences.

Recently, he heard a young child asking their parent why he looks like a child, “but has hairy legs”.

It’s practical reasons which prompt him to ignore it, he admits.

“It’s hard at times, I won’t lie. To the point where you’d feel like stopping the mother or the father or whoever they are with. But I never do, because it’s only going to cause confrontation for myself. As I am such a small person, I cannot physically defend myself in any situation,” he explains.

Jamie is lucky in the sense he has a strong family, a loving partner and good friends to support him.

Ironically enough, he says that one of his best friends, Thomas, towers up six-foot three!

“I walk quite fast. I’d say it’s probably from trying to keep up with him all the years,” he laughs.

Jamie achieved a level of fame around a decade ago as a contestant on RTE’s The Voice of Ireland.

Although he was mentored by Kian Egan, he felt one of the Westlife star’s fellow judges, the late, great Dolores O’Riordan was “the most genuine and down to earth”.

He impressed with his rapping and vocal skills.

But he says the most he would do these days is karaoke.

“I’d have to have a pint or two down me to get the confidence though!”

Jamie sums up his outlook with a simple message, one he believes speaks to the heart of resilience.

“When you break the word disability down, the word ability is in there. We all have our own abilities to our own limitations. Everyone is different. No matter who you are, or where you are from, what situation you're going through, no matter how difficult life might be, always look on the bright side - there might a cloud over you today, but tomorrow, there might be a sun in front of you,” he concludes.

Jamie would love to share his story with businesses, schools, colleges or other organisations in the hope it might help or inspire others.

For more information, email hartigan.jamie@gmail.com.