Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Not always a smart ass.


As I was scanning channels last night, I happened upon a movie that kept me up until 3 o'clock this morning.
It was called "My Left Foot". It was the story of Christy Brown (a man), and it was a true story..

It reminded me of the days I worked for the local school district. I was a personal nurse for severe/profound special needs children.. It was a job that truly touched my heart.. Most of the kids were autistic.. But it was a mix of many different disabilities.. Developmentally delayed, physically handicapped, children that were products of addicted mothers, some kids that you would see and call "vegetables", and kids affected with cerebral palsy..
I would still be doing this job if it was financially possible (special needs nursing, doesn't pay near enough).

Every one of these kids touched me in their own special way..
We lost two of my girls while I was working at the school.. People who don't understand or may even be afraid of a special needs child might say "they're better off".. Well, nope.. All of these people have a purpose.. And losing those girls was devastating to me.. They were full of personality, and I couldn't wait to see them every day..

Why this post? Because the movie flooded me with the memories (I can't begin to tell you how much I miss the kids)..
Christy Brown was born with cerebral palsy (note the link to the United Cerebral Palsy foundation on the right side of my blog)..
C.P. is one of the cruelest diseases to me.. It is damage to the motor control center of the brain.. Most C.P. patients have spastic movements, speech impediments, drooling, they're unable to walk well, if at all.. They would look like what most people would call a mentally handicapped person..
Here's the thing.. They are not mentally handicapped at all.. In fact, unless they have other disabilities, they are just as intelligent as you or I.. But they are trapped in body that doesn't work..
In public they are treated like a retard (sorry about the politically incorrect term)..

My first job was with severe/profound adults, at Crosspoint.. Tom was one of my favorite clients.. Admittedly I was scared of him at first.. I started that job when I was 19, and I didn't know anything about mental illness.. He always smiled when he came in and with that smile came a stream of drool.. I avoided eye contact and absolutely had no intention of shaking his hand.. But as my time at Crosspoint progressed and I learned his speech patterns, I realized he was a pretty smart guy with a sense of humor that put Robin Williams to shame.. He refused to use a wheel chair or walk with a cane.. He stumbled through Danville, with pride in who he was.. Something many of us can't do..
I don't know what ever happened to Tom.. Last time I saw him was 15 years ago at the DACC springfest.. You see, the only job he could get was picking up garbage with one of those little poker sticks..
I hugged him, wiped the drool off my arm and told him it was good to see him.. But I could see kids (and sadly adults) staring..

Christy Brown was treated like a freak until he was about 8.. All of his limbs were basically useless except his left foot.. With it, he wrote the word MOTHER and a new world opened up for him.. He is a published author, a gifted painter, and a husband..
If you get the chance to see this movie, take it.. Daniel Day Lewis will stun you with his portrayal of Christy Brown..

In the mean time, when you see someone who has a disability that might otherwise scare you, say hi.. Or at least shoot them a smile.. It may not seem like it on the outside, but inside every human shell, is a soul..

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Bon Voyage!!!

There were a couple things I wanted to do while I was off.
Spend time with my parents and do something exciting with Ryleigh..

So mom (Bev) and I hatched this plan to go see relatives on her side of the family in Texas.
An all girl get away.. They live in San Antonio and I haven't seen them in about 20 years..
I hate to fly.. I mean I seriously hate to fly.. But Ry has never flow before and I thought it would be a great experience for her..

Bev on the other hand, was all about saving a buck.. She immediately started map questing our route.
She had this all worked out in her head.. We were taking her Honda Accord instead of my roomier Kia Sorento, to save on gas.. I argued, she fought, I begged, she won..

My friend Beth lives in Irving Texas.. Here's how it was going to go.. We were going to leave tomorrow, drive to Irving, stay at Beth's, go on to San Antonio on Saturday. Stay there for two days and head back.. On the way back we would stop in Fort Smith and stay with my dad's cousin and then finish the trip on Wednesday or Thursday.. It is 20 hours each way..

If you really know me, you know that family is super important to me.. My kids are my life.. My daughter is a joy (for now). And often times I don't do grown up things because I'd rather spend time with her.. (She's growing up fast and I want to get in as much time with her as I can)..

I love my mom.. She is not just my mom, she is my friend..

Here's the thing.. No matter how much I love both of these people, I'm not sure I like either of them well enough to be in a Honda Accord with them for 40 hours..
Why? Three different generations means..
Three different types of music.
Three different types of hormones.
Three different types of restaurant choices.
Three different kidney/bladder combinations.
Three different desired car interior temperatures.
Three different sets of life challenges (mom-retirement, Ry-teenage drama, me-jobless and adjusting to a full time relationship).

See the pattern of threes here..
Every issue is the same.. Three different somethings, except one..
One personality..
That's right folks.. I am my mother's daughter and my daughter's mother..
We are all opinionated, vocal, we don't mince words and we don't hold back..
If you are our waitress and you suck, you will know you suck.. And you will know it three different ways.
Same goes inside the Honda Accord.. If you pick shitty music, you will know the rest of us hate it.. If you make a bad judgement driving, you will hear about it for the next 450 miles or until you make another bad judgement.. And when you get to a place with new humans, they will be told about your bad judgement (I speak from experience).

But even with all of this adversity, I was preparing myself to make the journey..

And then it happened.. Out of the blue.. The phone call blind-sided me..
It's mom..
Her: I found airline tickets for $XXX.
Me: BOOK IT..

Now I'm not sure if the afore mentioned thoughts had finally gone through my mothers head and brought her to her senses.. Or if the fact that it's 86 degrees in San Antonio, that made her change her mind.. I don't care why she changed it..
And as much as I HATE to fly.. I love the idea that I will not be in that Accord for 40 hours, more than I hate to fly..

We leave tomorrow and get back next Thursday.. Hopefully tan and relaxed..
And although I'm sure a road trip with three females would have given me much to blog about, I'm sure there will still be some antics to share when I return.

See ya soon Glascocks.