Rolling Down Memory Lane
If you are living with cerebral palsy, there is a good chance that you have had corrective surgeries, especially as a child. If you were like me, you can remember casts that were more akin to some kind of torture device. You might have even had more than one body cast that left you bedridden for months.
You might have really looked forward to the day the casts came off, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, only to discover that you were still as immobile without the cast! To top it off, your legs probably itched like crazy. Like me, you might have been told not to scratch; but, the itch was just too great.
Now you had stiff, unrelenting limbs, sore skin that was reminiscent of a major sunburn, and months of skin was peeling off in globs. For teen girls there was also the added embarrassment of looking like you were related to a gorilla, your legs were so hairy. But, you couldn’t shave, because your skin was so sensitive.
In short, there would be months of therapy and raw determination to even be able to get back the mobility you might have had before the operation.
There is a Point
Now, I have taken you on this little rolling trip down memory lane, not to dredge up less than pleasant memories, to make a point.
I spent the summer before seventh grade having a lateral rotation of my left leg, I believe. Both were done. But, I can’t remember which was which. Anyway, two important things happened in my life that summer. I got out of my casts; but, I wasn’t mobile enough to attend public school yet. So, I had a tutor that came to the house 2-3 times a week.
When most kids enter junior high, it is full of adventure, new experiences and new friends. For me, that happened in 8th grade. I was finally able to attend school and we moved! Ugh!
It was NOT my best year. We lived in a town so small, 8th graders only had one teacher. That year it was Mr. Arnold. He was not having a great year either. His wife had MS, and she was getting worse, he had two growing kids, and he regularly drowned his troubles in the bottle. Although he was a functioning alcoholic, his always had that smell; and, he wasn’t very alert or perceptive. My name that entire year was “Molasses”! I don’t think he ever used my real name.
I never told him how much it bothered me; but, I am sure you can remember being 14 and sympathize. I forgave him, to be sure. I knew his circumstances. Although I didn’t particularly like him, I did feel sorry for his family. So, “Molasses” I was. New school, bad nickname, and only one true friend; but, I grew up without too much scarring from that year.
Okay, Back to the Point . . .
Did you ever feel like you had to apologize for slowing friends or family down? Did you just not say anything for fear you wouldn’t be liked or labeled a whiner? I did. Actually, it was worse after I got married; but, that is a story for another day.
Anyway, I loved learning to drive with hand controls. Behind the wheel, I was just as fast, or faster, than my friends. In fact, I got a reputation (and a ticket or two) for having a lead thumb.
Then, a year and a half ago, friends gifted me with a used electric wheelchair. Now, I could even go for “walks” with people or my dog.
But, let’s face facts. CP generally makes people slower. It is just part of living with CP. It shouldn’t be apologized for; and, good friends and loved ones will understand, if we can’t keep up or need to rest. It really isn’t a big deal. Just like, in the grand scheme of things, being called Molasses my 8th grade year was actually his problem, not mine.
It was these thoughts that ran through my head, more quickly than I can write them, when I saw this joke that someone posted on my FaceBook.
To all of us slower paced people with CP:










