Professor Exhale, Head of Rehabilitative Medicine, body of a fish, found a cure for paralysis. She was out scaring disabled people to let off steam, when the way forward became apparent. (We forgive teachers sticking pins into the eyelids of children outside school hours, and vets getting home and cutting off their dog's legs to different lengths so they run with a weird rocking motion that'll tip them over when they go too fast, so we shouldn't be harsh in judging a doctor relieving the pressures of work in this way). She observed that when scared, paralysed people jump like everyone else. Movement that shouldn't be possible occurs. She went back to the lab and tried it again and again - whilst nicking some magnesium to burn later - with people of all different levels of paralysis, and it always always worked. Try it for yourself: sneak up behind someone in a wheelchair and scream as loud and shrilly as you can, and watch them jump.
The postulation went (thanks to rather strong steroid cream and resiting the urge to pick at it): if involuntary movements can occur despite paralysis, then the potential is always there for voluntary movements to occur. Initial attempts to explain to patients that it must all be in the mind were met with anger, tears, and no movement. Professor Exhale continued with her professional cruelty, but none of her patients would ever move beyond the involuntary jumps. In time these movements stopped occurring, because the patients were ready to be scared.
As her work became more cruel, Professor Exhale had less and less need to let off steam in her personal time. She no longer scared random disabled people, pushed them out of their wheelchairs, or had another person distract them so she could cut their legs to shreds with a scalpel. She even talked to one once. Professor Exhale explained her work, gave a demonstration of the involuntary movements, and then wondered aloud how she'd turn involuntary movements into voluntary ones.
Being a smart young thing, the disabled chick toddled orff home and thought about it. She reasoned that if her body could subconsciously move, then if the subconscious could somehow 'speak' to the conscious, and tell it how to move, she'd be dancing like a wishbone in no time. Nighty night, dreamy dream. She awoke, hopped out of bed, and all was fixed. Gorsh, that was unrealistically easy. Orff she toddled to find Professor Exhale and tell her that just explaining the situation nicely, then letting subconscious dreams do the rest, would work. Professor Exhale stole the idea and cured all her other patients without even bothering to find out the disabled chick's name. (Y'know, I don't think that Professor Exhale is a very nice person. I do have a bit of a teensy weensy crush on her though - it's the hair).
A conference was organised to announce the breakthrough and soak up all the glory. Professor Exhale could have gone the more conventional route and published a medical paper, but she really really wanted to call the conference the Paralysis D'Accord Rally. "Hi. I've cured paralysis, look. And here's how. Tell me I'm great and then fuck off home. Oh and don't forget to appreciate the title of the conference. That's all there is. Fizzle. Ain't no more."