Let me LIVE!

as a postman at Lancaster's Fenton Street delivery office. "A big part of it was outside, I could get on with it, nobody was on my back, I really enjoyed it" he remembers.

But within months Leslie's physical symptoms became impossible to ignore any longer.

"One day l had to cover an out-of-town walk, so they gave me a bike. But I couldn't ride it - I no longer had the balance or co-ordination. I was so embarrassed, I just had to hand it back and say `sorry, I just can't use it'."

A manager spotted Leslie having difficulty and suggested he go for a medical. "The consultant just said `you've got cerebella ataxia.' I'd never heard of it, I didn't know anything about it and the doctor didn't explain. I was very angry about that."

Leslie had not quite reached the end of his 12 month probationary period for Royal Mail, so the company let him go. However, he was grateful to the local CWU rep for negotiating an extra six weeks' wages to tide him over before he could claim benefits.

Leslie endured a period of deep depression after losing his job and lost contact with a lot of his friends. Things started to look up, though, when he enrolled as a volunteer at Lancaster's Disablement Information and Social Centre (DISC), where he has continued to work for the past 16 years. Now vice chairman, Leslie works there three days a week.

Sufferers with chronic long-term illnesses have famously campaigned for the right to die.

Not so former postman Leslie Burke, who has taken on the medical establishment in a bid to preserve his right to live.

A bolt of lightning adorns Leslie Burke's forearm - it represents the origin of life. Further up is a
tattoo of the Chinese symbol for 'good luck' - not something you'd associate with a man with a terrible degenerative illness.

But for 44-year-old human rights campaigner l.eslie Burke, remaining positive in the face of adversity is a life choice, like getting married or converting to Islam.

"Two years ago l made a New Year's resolution to be as positive as I could be," he explains. `I was drifting into middle age, l'd lost most of my friends, I wasn't going out much and l wasn't enjoying work. But since l made that resolution I've done things which, though they might not seem like much to anyone else, have lifted my spirits.
"I got these tattoos done - all with positive connotations, I didn't want anything to do with death or destruction. I got my ears re-pierced and dyed my hair blue! l wanted to confound expectations."

Leslie suffers from a rare disease called Cerebella ataxia - simular in effect to multiple sclorusis. Slowly but surely, he is losirng the ability to co-ordinate movement and speech. he now uses a wheelchair full time. My co-ordination and speech affected, but mentally I'n not affected," Leslie stresses.

The former postman knows the time will come when he can no longer do anything for himself or even communicate. In spite of this Leslie believes his existence will always be worth preserving and it is this philosophy which his it drives him in his legal battle with the General Medical Council He wants to see the GMC guidelines changed to prevent east doctors playing God with patients who no longer feed themselves or communicate their wishes.

Not diagnosed until the age of 23, Leslie was an active child who put his lack of co-ordination in certain situations down to being "good at some things and not so good at others."

But by his late teens, other people were beginning to notice a difference: "Lots of people assumed I was drunk, which was quite handy because I looked drunk and it didn't cost me a bean! I remember passing a lady on my way to work once and she gave me a funny look as if to say `what's he doing going to work drunk at this time of the day!'"

In the mid-1980s Leslie worked