Finding an Accessible Apartment as an Adult With Cerebral Palsy

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It’s finally happened, I’m becoming an adult. I’ve been on a six year odyssey focused on one single goal, ideal and mission: moving into my own home.

It’s been hard. Illinois is one of the worst states for people with disabilities and budget cuts are always forced on the disabled population. The amount of accessible housing is severely limited and it has often left me frustrated and full of despair. I watched people move out before me and even though I was proud, I was also envious and jealous. However, everything is changing and I’m no longer the young man I once was, although I’m not that old either. At 30, I’m going to have the freedom and independence I’ve dreamed of, but how did I get there? Here is my story.

When I first graduated from college, all I wanted was to move out of my family’s home. My mind had one singular thought and dream. But as I explained earlier, my options were limited. At first I sought to find a house, and my realtor Katie was very accommodating and receptive to my wishes. However, there were two things standing in my way. I couldn’t afford it as I only work part time, and my roommate had just found a significant other and wanted to move in with her. I was hurt because all my dreams and ambitions seemed to be crashing all around me, but since this was my dream I didn’t give up. When I go after something I usually go one direction: forward. However, as the search narrowed, no options were found and I began contemplating alternatives.

There are a few facilities where disabled and able-bodied people live
together as a community. Luckily for me my parents had the brilliant idea of building one. It seemed ideal and it provided with a dream of equality and the proper amount of accessibility. However, we as a family had too much on our plate and we had to put the dream on hold, at least for now. But just like my dream of finding a girlfriend, I never stopped looking.

Then a third solution appeared, and it felt like a miracle. The town of LaGrange started building an apartment complex which was supposed to have 250 units with 50 of them being for people with disabilities. My ray of hope had finally shown and it seemed like my dream was coming to fruition. I watched and waited as a cloud of dirt became my vision of hope and beauty.

As time moved forward, my leasing agent Kaileen proved to be more than accommodating, answered all my questions and tried to make my apartment as accessible as possible. Suddenly everything that seemed mundane and monotonous was hopeful and accommodating. At 30 years old I have found the fountain of youth and have begun to become young again. I move out tomorrow!

It has taken a while, but everything is now in order. With more order comes more responsibility and I’m ready. I’m a man of action, dreams, and words, but most important to me is the fact that I’m an individual with cerebral palsy who always strives to make my disability better and more beautiful to society. With this apartment I have achieved my dream of being an independent individual. Patience is most definitely a virtue!

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I Am a Woman With a Disability and I Am Happily Married

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Growing up, I was like any other little girl who dreamed of being married one day. But if I said it out loud, the adults around me quickly hushed me. The reason? I had been diagnosed at age 2 with spastic diplegic cerebral palsy, and I soon came to understand this was not a dream I was allowed to have.

As a teenager, I realized the vast challenges disabled people face when it comes to dating. Guys would hardly look at me as a person, let alone as a girl or a potential date. In fact, the bullying I endured throughout school took a new turn in high school and I had guys egging each other on to “ask me out” while the others watched from a distance. The minute I acknowledged the request in any way, they would start laughing and walk away saying “as if!” or something worse at the top of their lungs, while I watched money exchange hands as the bet was paid off. It was humiliating.

Young adulthood was no better. As a Christian, church was a venue in which it was supposed to be safe to form friendships and begin dating, but the same stigmas followed me there, only with a slight twist: I was looked on as a “friend” or a “sister,” but never anything else. Ministers and pastors counseled me against getting my hopes up.

There is a mindset that disabled people should look for love only within the disabled community. I never once bought into that mindset and was open to whomever God chose.

I did have one dating experience when I was 24. He was a long-time friend and we dated for 17 months before he broke it off. The reason: he didn’t like the fact that I refused to promise him that I would not end up in a wheelchair one day. There were other issues that were his alone and not a topic for this story. So at 25, I found myself heartbroken and single once again.

By the age of 35, I had honestly given my dream of ever becoming a wife to God and was content being single. I had been a maid of honor and a bridesmaid at so many friends’ weddings. I had watched them birth children and deal with the challenges marriage and kids can bring. I had even walked beside a few of them whose marriages ended in divorce. I had no illusions about the hard work marriage entailed. As the years passed, I was completely at peace with the idea that I was and would remain single.

Suddenly at the age of 42, I found myself in the midst of a shift from a three-year friendship into a romantic relationship. Trust me, no one was more shocked than I was and… he was able-bodied!

There were so many questions people asked and so many questions we asked ourselves, but always it came down to our views about God and His plans and purposes for our relationship. After a courtship by fire (my Dad had been diagnosed with ALS), we were engaged.

Two months before our wedding, severe back spasms began in my lower back, making it impossible for me to walk for six to eight hours per day. All my plans to walk down the aisle using my four-wheeled walker were suspended as we came up with plan B – my groom would carry me down the aisle.

I endured dress fittings with my ladies-in-waiting literally holding me upright while the seamstress pinned the hem of my dress and tears rolled down my face due to the pain of the intense back spasms. I was certain the seamstress thought I was being married against my will!

A few weeks before our wedding the back spasms stopped being as severe, and I was able to walk again. I kept asking my groom-to-be if he was sure that he wanted to marry someone so “broken.” He never wavered.

So, at the age of 44, on March 24, 2012, I was married. My dream of becoming a wife became reality. A very special man chose to see the real me behind the disability and we have been happily married for over five years.

I encourage all women and men with disabilities of any and every kind not to give up hope. I am living proof that dreams come true!

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Thinkstock photo by Creatas Images.

 

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Learning to Drive as an Adult With Cerebral Palsy

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I’m learning how to drive. I, a 28-year-old woman with cerebral palsy, am finally learning how to drive.

Let me walk you through my experience with driving thus far:

I first got my beginner’s license when I was 19. I really just got it as a piece of I.D. to get into a bar, but that’s besides the point. I went for a few lessons with my parents (God help them!) to attempt to drive with my feet, and only vividly remember the last lesson I had with my dad. I specifically remember this lesson because it was the last time I got in the driver’s seat of a car for almost 10 years.

I was determined that I could drive with my feet. I somehow convinced my dad to let me drive home from a block away, after only having driven a couple times in an empty parking lot. Now, not only do my feet leave much to be desired, I also have terrible depth perception. So, I spent a lot of my time probably five feet away from the curb as my dad yelled at me to get closer/go faster/stop being a lead foot, and cars passed me, drivers giving me the finger along the way. This particular driving lesson ended with a bird flying into the side of the car, bouncing and landing dead in my neighbor’s driveway.

Recently, I finally decided it was time to actually learn how to drive. I started out trying to drive with my problem children (my feet) again, with my husband white-knuckling the “oh s***” bar and trying really hard not to scream in terror.

We then decided it might be best for me to have a driving assessment done to see if I needed hand controls. So, I went. It started off with a cognitive assessment, which I’m pretty sure was invented specifically to make me feel like a fool and drain my brain of any logical… anything. They said I did well, but they were concerned about my depth perception.

They then wanted me to demonstrate my ability to lift my toes up and down off the ground without lifting my heel. Well, that was a big ol’ nope! So we didn’t even entertain the idea of driving with my feet, and got me hooked up with some hand controls. The car I am learning in has a spinner knob to turn the wheel, and a lever to push for brake and pull for gas.

Through my lessons I’ve learned that despite what your brain tells you, you’re not supposed to look at the “thing” in front of you that you want to avoid hitting. You’re also not supposed to just skip lanes because you want to avoid a median when turning onto a street.

But, in all seriousness, living with CP has shown me time and time again that there are different ways for everyone to do things, and just because you can’t do something the “conventional” way, doesn’t mean you can’t do it at all. A lot of learning and a little bit of perseverance can go a long way.

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I'm Proud of How Cerebral Palsy Has Shaped Me

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Imagine a child running around in the snow, making snowballs, building a snowman, and making snow angels. Now, imagine a child who has a physical disability out in the snow. This child is struggling to walk in the snow; it’s hard for her to pick up the snow and form it into a ball, and when she tries to make a snow angel, her legs and arms seem to be weighed down and look practically impossible for her to move.

I was that child. The one who struggled to walk in the snow, who took 10 minutes to make one snowball, and who couldn’t make a snow angel because her muscles wouldn’t cooperate with her. As a diverse individual, I’ve had many challenges throughout my life. I was born three months early, and as a result, I have cerebral palsy. Cerebral palsy affects my muscle control and balance, among many other things. This has caused me many hardships, but has also given me many wonderful experiences.

Cerebral palsy is caused by brain damage before birth, during birth, or immediately after birth and is not a degenerative disease. Cerebral palsy affects body movement, muscle control, muscle coordination, muscle tone, reflex, posture, and balance. Cerebral palsy is a common diagnosis that can occur in premature babies. I have triplegic cerebral palsy, which is a type that paralyzes or affects three limbs of the body. Physically, it affects my balance, muscle control, muscle tone, reflex, posture, and balance. Mentally, it is connected to an anxiety disorder, a learning disability, and an unspecified neurodevelopmental disorder. “Neuro” means how the neurons in the brain transmit information to other brain sites. If there is an interruption in the transmission (in my case — prematurity) then this diagnosis is a professional way of describing a brain processing difficultly.

As a child with a disability, I had a lot of physical challenges other children did not. While the other kids could run and jump on the playground, I was struggling just to walk on the uneven playground turf. I couldn’t climb the ladder to get to the top of the playground equipment and I couldn’t go on the slide, because I couldn’t keep from losing my balance and falling off the slide. Due to all of that, I missed out on some of the fun the other kids were having.

In addition to the physical challenges I faced, finding kids to play with was always difficult. As a child, I wore leg braces. They were clear with hot pink, Velcro straps, and came to just below my knee. I also wore a helmet while on the playground to protect my head during falls. It was soft, bright purple, and had a large white velcro strap that went under my chin to hold it on. The other kids didn’t understand what to make of my braces or helmet. Because they didn’t know what to make of my braces, helmet, or me, they just stared at me with confused looks on their faces. They never talked to me or played with me. They made me feel excluded and like being different was a bad thing. As I went from a child to a teenager, I kept my braces, but they evolved as I grew.

I began my education at a traditional preschool and continued it at a traditional kindergarten. After I finished kindergarten, my mom withdrew me from school and decided to homeschool me. She decided to homeschool me because she felt it would work better with my therapy schedule, and it gave me the opportunity to have a quiet learning environment and work at my own pace.

As a teenager, I started to notice the differences between my school experiences and those of other teenagers. My school days consisted of doing homework in the morning, going to physical therapy sessions in the afternoon, and being taught new lessons by my mom at night. Because I didn’t go to a traditional high school, I didn’t get to enjoy the extracurricular activities that most teenagers do.

When I was a teenager, I got a Facebook account and started to notice the differences between myself and the mainstream teen. Those differences were once again brought to the forefront when I started voice lessons at the age of 14, and I heard other kids my age talking about the things they were experiencing. I felt completely disengaged from people my age. I missed out on school dances, being part of a school debate team, sports team, and going to parties.

There were other teenage milestones I missed out on, too. I never drove a car, dated a boy, or rebelled as a teenager. Because my life was so different from that of other teenagers, I found it impossible to relate to them. I didn’t have any friends, and I spent a lot of time alone in my room. I felt sad, lonely and depressed.

Once I became an adult, I started to see, appreciate, and be extremely grateful for my physical disability. The positive effects of being a person with a physical disability greatly outweigh the negative affects. I’m a hard worker. I find ways to overcome the obstacles having a physical disability creates. I never give up on myself or my dreams. If I don’t find success doing something one way, I keep trying different ways of doing it until I find success. I don’t feel that I would have the tenacity that I do without having been faced and forced to overcome the obstacles in my life.

I feel that I am a very open-minded person. I am appreciative of all people regardless of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, disability, political views, and religious beliefs. I feel very passionate about the topic of diversity. I think it is a very important thing to have in the world. I feel there is so much to be learned from diverse people, their stories, and unique perspectives on the world. I think the world would a very dull place without a variety of diverse people and viewpoints. I feel my disability has given me a unique perspective on life and has helped to shape me into a diverse individual.

Today I am a 22-year-old confident, self-assured woman. I am passionate about raising awareness for cerebral palsy. I have started a blog to highlight the issues I face as a woman with cerebral palsy, and I hope to help others through my writing. I started college this year and have found it to be a really positive experience. It’s hard work, but I’m finding I can be successful in college. I love theatre and acting. I love the opportunity to be on stage and lose myself in the telling of someone else’s story. I am grateful for the theatrical opportunities I’ve had and for the chance to show others that even though you have a physical disability, you can still be a part of theatre.

I feel my differences have shaped me into the person I am today. My cerebral palsy has caused me many challenges and given me many gifts. I think it caused me to be stronger, work harder then I ever thought possible, and helped me to be more accepting of others. I think it has shown me what my limits are and forced me to find ways around them. I am proud to be a diverse individual.

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Please Don't Single Me Out Because of My Cerebral Palsy

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It’s true that I have a disability, but I don’t think of cerebral palsy
that way. The word “disability” means “a physical or mental condition
that limits your abilities.”  I don’t think cerebral palsy limits my abilities.

Even though it is polite not to stare, I don’t want anyone to avoid looking at me completely. I wear braces, also called ankle foot orthotics (AFOs), and it would really be nice for someone to look me in the eyes rather than at my AFOs. Or you could comment and say, “Those are really cool.”

I receive insincere comments from other kids because of cerebral palsy; that helps me to be sensitive to other people’s feelings. But that doesn’t mean I like the comments. So many kids say I run slowly, but I wish they would focus on any of my other traits or interests rather than my physical success.

If you’re my friend, I’d like to talk with you about something other than cerebral palsy. If you said, “Caroline, I’m interested in learning about cerebral palsy, can you tell me a bit about it?” then sure, I’d tell you some things. But people don’t speak carefully and say things like, “Why do you walk different?” So instead of being able to educate someone, I feel I have to defend myself, as if walking differently is a bad thing.

I don’t like to be singled out. If I want to play jump rope, for example, I feel like an alien if you say, “Oh go slow so she doesn’t trip.” I know it can be a kind gesture, but when someone changes the game because of me, I feel like a one-eyed dragon. In other words, I feel different from everyone else in every way.

These are the things I wish people knew about how I feel about cerebral palsy.

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My Legs Don't Define My Legacy

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My name is Richelle Heath. I am 41 and I have spastic diplegia cerebral palsy.
My journey began in 1976 as an adopted child whose parents knew nothing about cerebral palsy. They were told by a fellow church member I may have CP because my legs weren’t moving in accordance with typical childhood developmental milestones.

After guidance and referrals, I had my first surgery at 2 and my last at 16 years old. My parents afforded me every opportunity so I had the best chance of walking independently, driving a car, graduating college and working in corporate America. I am proud to say I have accomplished each and every one of those goals. My dream was to be completely independent. The kind of independence that is often taken for granted.

At age 37, I began using Facebook to see if I could find other people with cerebral palsy facing the same daily struggles as I do. I just knew that somewhere out there, others were dealing with similar challenges. I also felt I couldn’t possibly be traveling this journey alone, one wobbly footstep at a time. I found four FB pages and that is how I met Heaven Ramsey.

I entered and won a writing contest that afforded me the opportunity of an incredible friendship. This led me to help admin and help create her cerebral palsy awareness page, “A Stairway to the Stars, Heaven’s Journey with CP.” We have had four magical and incredibly wonderful years of education, avocation and inspiration together.

Our collective journey and our friendship inspire us. Everyone we have met has taught us important lessons. The most important lessons we have learned are to never give up, that we matter and our stories matter! Our footsteps in our journeys leave a footprint for those who will follow behind us. We are walking this journey one step at a time. Together we all create the path for greatness.

The CP community is 17 million strong in our quest for acceptance. This common childhood disability is not as publicized as others are. Another concern is that as children “age out” of the system, they are left as adults to find their own way, their own help, their own insight, their own education and to do their own advocating. Truly, we are our own best advocates! We are stronger together because our knowledge empowers us as a community.

That’s how the #CPDreamTeam began. It was a vision for a t-shirt hashtag to let everyone know they are not alone. Our shirts hold the names of 250 Cerebral Palsy Warriors on the back of each one (we are in the process of number four now) in celebration of National Cerebral Palsy Awareness Day and World CP Day every year.

Just a shirt? Absolutely not! It’s a representation of the family and friendships we have built to remind us we are all in this together, and we are stronger because we have each other. My legs don’t define my legacy! Yes, my legs are spastic and sometimes uncooperative. That is my CP. I have CP, it does not have me. Part of my legacy is the gift of my legs because they have carried me a million miles. Miles of blood, sweat and tears, but without them I would not be me — steadfast, strong and true. The other part of my legacy is the gift of friendship. The many friends I have gained during this journey have opened my eyes to acceptance and understanding of other people.

Cerebral palsy is a part of me, but it does not define me. I hope to create an awareness of this disability through my successes and struggles. With my voice and experiences, I hope to leave a legacy of CP awareness and increase services for people of all ages.

Learn more at CP Dream Team.

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