All posts by JamieJordan

Not quitting is hard stand up and fight for yourself

Dear Diary: January 3, 2013

Like millions of Americans out there who are struggling to better themselves because of the New Year’s Resolutions that they vowed to follow for this year, I too am starting my own strict physical training. By this time next year, I will be known as Super Wheelchair Man.

What would YOUR Super Hero name be?
What would YOUR Super Hero name be?

Seriously though, I bought myself a standing frame. Actually, my insurance bought it, or Santa Claus for all you believers out there. He was a few days late, but I won’t hold it against him. I think I referred to this as a “standing box” in previous chapters. This one is much more sophisticated and modern. Here’s a picture of the box:

Yes i'm standing and yes it hurts
Yes i’m standing and yes it hurts

        Makes you stronger! Tougher! More Amazing! More Inspiring! Funnier! You may even learn to walk! Comes with Best Friend! Comes with table to put all your crap on while you stand! Apple Flavored *Not Approved by the FDA)

This is me, opening my EZ Stand box:

My ghost writer, who is not a ghost and barely qualifies as a writer, asked me why I would want to torture myself in this way. She even asked me if I was hoping to learn how to walk with this device. I’m guessing she will be the one on the sidelines screaming, “Run, Forrest! Run!”

Most people’s Resolutions:

1. Lose Weight

2. Get Rich

My Resolutions:

1. Learn how to walk. (Not really, just standing would be fine)

All joking aside, I bought the standing frame so that I could improve my overall body strength. This should allow me to be more helpful when I am being lifted into my chair and with the daily tasks of moving my body around. Wow, I sure sound helpless when I say it like that. Thank goodness the EZ Stand comes with a best friend. It doesn’t really. I was kidding.

So I started my writing session today feeling really sore from using the EZ Stand. It is far from easy. Whoever named this chair was obviously someone that can already stand, because if standing isn’t a problem for you then yes, it’s super easy. This device is also entirely unnecessary for you if you can stand, unless you just need an excuse to feel successful and good about yourself by showing how well you can do this piece of exercise equipment. If you are struggling with all of the exercise equipment in your local gym, this might be just the thing for you! EZ Stand!

(I’m really sore today from exercising.) What kind of exercises? (Standing.)

Like I mentioned before, some people find me inspiring. I guess I can add this to my “list of reasons why Jamie is inspiring”.

INSPIRING!

  • Has a chair with WHEELS!
  • Sometimes says funny things
  • Can almost stand with assistance!

Are you inspired yet?

 

Update

I wrote most of this  almost 2 years ago  as part of a book  that has now been moved to this blog. I’m still standing three days a week. Most of those days I would rather not do it. I think with most exercising it gets easier the longer you do it. This has not been my experience.  I’ve made progress, I now stand fully upright more often than not. The pain has not gotten better, in fact I take a physical beating every time I get in the frame. Now it’s more of a mental test. I know it’s going to be awful every time I do it, and I have to find ways just to get it done.

I’m still doing it because I refuse to let the pain beat me and have control over me. Sometimes there’s no easy way to do something, and you just have to have the will not to quit no matter how hard something may be it’s that simple.

 

 

Will Jamie Jordan please stand up

I've been through med school I know more than you I just forgot to look at your chart
I’ve been through med school I know more than you I just forgot to look at your chart 

Thanks to http://agenesiscorpuscallosum.blogspot.com/2009/06/diagnosing-agenesis-corpus-callosum.html for the use of the image

 

I remember going to a doctor’s appointment when my doctor took a sick day and there was a fill-in working in his place. I roll into the doctor’s office in my wheelchair, and the doctor has my chart and all of my past information. The doctor decided that I need a cortisone shot. The doctor asked “We’re going to have to give you this cortisone shot in your hip. Can you stand up?” Ummm….no, I can’t stand up. Yeah, I’m lazy. I wanted to be able to ride the elevator without guilt. 

 

I’m probably being a little hard on this guy. After all he was just subbing in for my doctor. This guy had one crucial piece of information that a normal person I meet who ask me if I can walk. doesn’t have, He had my medical chart. I don’t even know how those things work, but I would think ‘has cerebral palsy ,does not walk” should be right at the top of the Jamie Jordan medical chart, don’t you? If it doesn’t have that information, somebody tell me what’s the point of a medical chart?

See you guys tomorrow

 

It’s hard work being a man on wheels

It's hard work that feels like play
It’s hard work that feels like play

I have never had a 9-to-5 job, I’ll give you a few seconds to let that sink in. I love to work. I’m doing something all day everyday. I truly believe it’s what keeps me sharp. So you can imagine my confusion at 13 when I told my parents I wanted to get a job and they made a very simple point. “how are you going to get there?” I don’t drive, I never have. I don’t have the vision or the reflexes for it. Me out on the highway in the driver seat of a car, would do more damage then Mr. Magoo after getting his latest pair of eyeglasses. Yes my parents could have gotten me there, but that’s a lot to ask someone on a daily basis when you already ask so much.

I love sitting around, playing video games and watching TV more than I should, but at some point in every kids life, you have bills to pay and they kind of sneak up on you. you wake up one day and realize that stuff. like video games, costs money and most of it costs more than you have. So you start trying to find ways to make some. In a previous post I talked about sweeping out the Junior high by pulling a Broom behind my chair. That was my first job at the age of about 13 I made a dollar a day. I have had a job ever since.

I’ve done video editing, audio editing, band management, social media management for a Company. I’ve been a standup comedian in virtual worlds, I promoted indie music. That’s a few jobs that I’ve had. I didn’t get rich doing any of them . I did them because I had to do something. As you probably gathered from this blog, I’m not a big fan of sitting around just glad to be alive.

I started this blog/media experience as a way to share my book. I wanted something ever-expanding that readers could come back to. I want to make this my new job. The lady that built this site goes by the name of Evie Marie. Honestly this whole thing was her idea. She works from home as well, for reasons she may explain in a post of her own later, hint hint.

You may be reading this thinking, “man I would love to work from home, that sounds awesome” it is awesome, but it’s also very hard. There is no structure, if I want to take the day off, I can but that means I won’t make money today that I may need for bills tomorrow.

Legitimate work-at-home jobs are hard to find. Do a quick Google search. Now, how many results pop up that don’t look like a scam. If you’re using the same Google I am, the answer is, not many.

The main reason for this is simple. Most companies want their employees to actually come into a building for work because they want to make sure said employee is actually doing work. The people who are successful working at home are those who started their own business and don’t answer to anyone.

That’s what Evie and I are trying to do with this blog. We’d like to make a business out of inspiring and making you laugh every day. It’s a blast, and we love doing it. That said, it takes a serious amount of time and effort. I’m using speech recognition to do this post, and it works okay but I’m having to stop and correct every third word, to the computer I must sound like the teacher from the Peanuts cartoons.

I say something like ” I am here to inspire you” and the computer hears” I am here to rewire you”. I type using one finger, so speech recognition is still faster than typing, but not by much. From start to finish this single post will take me about an hour to write, I’m not complaining just saying I desperately need a secretary. When we blow up and take over the Internet, I’m going to hire one of you to type. The job might also have the added benefit of getting to ride around on my wheelchair. Before we get there we need your support. It’s not mandatory but if you like what you see and don’t mind chipping in we certainly appreciate it. New rims on my wheelchair ain’t cheap. If you can’t donate that’s cool to. You can help us spread the word. Help us become the new sensation on Facebook and twitter. if a YouTube video of a piano playing cat can you get 50 million views, so can we, but only with your help. This blog has to be at least as cool as a piano playing cat. If it’s not, leave us a comment or an email and tell us what you’d like to see. Whatever it is I’ll do my best to make it happen. unless off course you want to see the piano playing cat, in which case, I give up.

Happy reading everybody 🙂

Everybody poops: men on wheels are not exempt

These words are the reason I don’t do it in public

You know when you have that feeling like you “have to go”? You know what I’m talking about, right? Usually, you just get up and go. I don’t really get to do that. Normally, I have to wait until someone is able to help me to do that. The urge to poop can come on pretty suddenly. The worst is when my mom goes out of the house, and I’m feeling fine, but an hour later…
Mom: I’m going to go to the grocery store. Have to poop before I go?
Me: Nope
Me: phone: I’m sorry about this, but I have to poop.

When I was a kid, I had trouble controlling my bladder. I also have some trouble controlling my arms and legs and my eyes, but somehow the bladder control thing was much more embarrassing as a kid. That’s not really funny, but it’s true.

I’m a toilet clogger. I think it’s because I’m sitting all day, and the poop probably gets compacted while it’s in me, so when I “go” it comes out as a giant poop baby. If I’m ever on a date, I probably won’t bring this up as a topic of conversation, but since we’re all friends here, it seems ok. The good thing is that after I drop the big one, all my clothes feel really loose again. It’s like I can poop myself down a whole size. Pants that were once chafing into my stomach a little bit are now loose and relaxed. It’s like giving birth, I suppose. A poop baby birth.

The bad thing is that I don’t want to use public toilets because I prefer to clog up my own commode. I especially don’t want to clog up someone else’s personal toilet.

*Jamie clogs toilets* every time

I have to go to the bathroom.
OK.
I need you to lift me out of my chair and onto the pot.
OK.
I also need you to pull my pants down, ok?
OK.
I may need some help after.

and I clogged your toilet.

If I’m ever out of town with people who aren’t my parents and someone else is taking care of me, I just hold it. I would hold it the whole time. It’s like self-inflicted constipation. Regardless of the whole toilet clogging thing, I don’t want to have to ask someone else to wipe my butt afterward. It’s just awkward. If I’m on the road with someone who’s not family…I just don’t go.

As I’m writing this I’m thinking “who could possibly want to read this” I’m writing it anyway
Because this is something you deal with when you are handicapped. Everybody deals with it, but I would wager that most of you don’t need help on the toilet. Trust me, needing help changes everything. When I’m rich I hope to get a bidet or something similar so that maybe I don’t need quite so much help. I’m looking on Amazon as I type. It seems you don’t have to be rich to own one. For some reason I feel like to have one in your house, you must meet Robin Leach as a requirements first. Your question for the day dear reader. Do you have one and do you like it?

Thanks to https://www.pinterest.com/sandrawalling/handicapped/ for the graphic

The most akward conversation ever: the one you avoid

Image from http://ifunny.co/fun/pXgXjnqK2
You can look I won’t run over you

I don’t know what kind of treatment other people in wheelchairs out there get, but I can tell you a little bit of how things are for me.
When I go out in public, it’s like a circus act. Everyone wants to look at me, because I’m different. I get that. But there are some things that are just interesting and unique to me.

It was before a really big event in April, and I had been going out to promote my public speaking to some school officials. So, I went out to dinner with a friend who will be there at the event. He and his wife came and picked me up and we went to the restaurant in the van. While my dinner companions were very cordial and open with speaking to me, and there were other people in the restaurant who were not afraid to speak and converse with me, the hostess did not speak to me or greet me. Some people are very uncomfortable speaking with someone “different” like me. At this particular dinner, I made it a point to openly introduce myself to the waiter and converse with him to save us both a lot of embarrassment. Maybe they think I can’t speak and that’s why they don’t try to speak to me. A lot of times waitresses won’t talk to me. They will ask the other people at the table what I want to order.

Sometimes people are apprehensive around me because they are afraid they are going to offend me, as a remedy for this, they don’t say anything. They think that I will be offended because they look at me, so they avoid eye contact with me at all costs. That is much more awkward than having someone say something that is possibly offensive. Imagine if you lived your whole life avoiding offending anyone. I would prefer to be treated like I am “normal”. I shouldn’t have to make such a huge effort to garner equal communication that a walking person would have. Also, you could literally ask me any question and I would not be offended. In fact, I encourage it. I wait eagerly for possibly offensive questions. They are my favorites.

Everywhere I go, nobody is expecting a guy in a wheelchair to show up. Even though everyone knows what a wheelchair is, it’s a huge shocker when it shows up in everyday life. There must be thousands of wheelchair bound people in the United States, yet we rarely see them. Where are they hiding?

My family was on a trip from Texas to Memphis. The car broke down and we had to call a tow truck. The tow truck driver said, “OK, hop into the truck and I’ll hook the van up to the back.” My dad let him know that we couldn’t do that because I was in a wheelchair and couldn’t just “hop” in the back. The guy towed the van with us inside of it. There were some strange looks as we drove very very slowly through town while being towed.

One of my favorite types of people I encounter in public are the “congratulatory” people, not because they are necessarily right in their approach, but because their ideas about my life in a wheelchair are a little weird. The congratulatory stranger will greet me with a very outgoing demeanor and tell me that I’m “the man” or “awesome” and they are “proud of me” just for existing as I do. I guess that it’s akin to when someone points out that a picture of a girl with a facial deformity is beautiful. I think people do this because they feel that they are offering something that nobody else in the girl’s life is telling her… she’s beautiful. It’s probably just the opposite. So many people are probably constantly telling her those words that she realizes it’s because of the facial deformity. I’m not saying that someone with a face problem can’t be beautiful, I am saying that “normal” beautiful people don’t get the same treatment. The word I’m looking for here that best describes this behavior of congratulating me for living life in a wheelchair is patronizing. I understand that the person means well, it just always puts me in a weird position.

There are also touchy-feely people that are not afraid to give me hugs and kisses like I’m a pet or a little child. I don’t mind this behavior, especially in the case of pretty women. Come to think of it, men don’t really do it so much, so I shouldn’t complain. And forget I mentioned it at all. If you’re a beautiful woman who wants to come up and give me a little kiss, that’s fine. You can sit on my lap too if you like

Image from http://ifunny.co/fun/pXgXjnqK2

My kryptonite smells great and knows what it wants

Before you read this, let me just say that these are my observations and do not in any way apply to all women.

You’ve been warned

Women are always right. And even when they aren’t right, if they think they are right, then they are. Women also have a way of wording things so that she is right no matter what. If she says she feels like you are ignoring her, there’s no way that can be “wrong”. I’m not trying to be better here this paragraph was written by a woman and rings true based on my experience. That doesn’t mean it is however. Women are complicated and wonderful creatures, that I freely admit are a mystery to me.

Women can change their minds. The wheelchair is a chick magnet. But 6-8 weeks into a relationship, if you speak the words that you find HER attractive, she freaks out. “Spark” means something completely different to the women I have met than what it means to me. I think most women I have met were attracted to me in the beginning. Somewhere along the way most have decided that they would rather have me as a friend then get romantic. In my experience, women have always decided the path of my relationship to them. Meaning, I can find a woman attractive and want to date her. In most cases however the woman has had final say, on whether anything beyond friendship happens or not. I guess this is the way it should be. I’m not gay so I have no idea how this works with gay couples, but I have to think it must be similar. This is not a pity post. This is something I have struggled with in my life. Having a woman look at you and say “I want to be your friend, that’s not enough for you I’m sorry”. Every time this has ever happened to me, I have thought” wait, doesn’t what I want matter” what they want is important also of course, it’s just that the entire process has never seemed very balanced to me. This is probably the one area of my life that I have a little voice in my head saying “I wonder if it’s because of the chair” everyone struggles with self-confidence. I have an almost arrogant belief in myself in every other aspect of my life. I have succeeded with women before, but even after success being “friend zoned” always gets to me.

My point with this post is that we all have kryptonite. I created this blog to motivate and inspire you. So it may seem strange that I would point out my self confidence issue but as the front page clearly states ” we all have issues” how do you deal with them is what matters.

I have female friends that will tell you, I never give up. If I’m attracted to someone it never really goes away. I never get tired of trying to show a woman that I’m worth her time. I think most people give up too soon on the things that they want. I’m not saying you should be a stalker, or that you should get stuck on one person. what I am saying is the phrase “if it is meant to be it will happen” is only true in any situation if you’re willing to put in the time and effort to show that you’re worth it. Doesn’t matter if you’re talking about a potential love interest or a job you want. Everything in life that is worth doing takes time and effort. The amount of time and effort you’re willing to put in before you decide to move on to the next great thing is up to you.

Being there for your friends takes more work then stalking them on Facebook

Do you have what it takes?

I don’t know how to make myself unavailable. If a friend needs me, I’m there. This may remind you of the movie “Yes Man” with Jim Carrey and Zoey DeChanel, but it’s not like I have a rule to say “yes” to any need from my friends but I am always available to those who are close to me. What do I mean by “close to me”? Many of us are involved in social sites and have a slew of friends on the internet that are associated with us, but not close to us. You know who these people are. I’m a Facebook curmudgeon. I don’t care about the games. I don’t care about people knowing what I’m doing all day every day, and I don’t care about what any of my friends had for lunch. The only part I like about Facebook is the messaging section. There are only about 3 people on facebook that send me messages, but hundreds that post what they ate for lunch that day. The people that send me messages are people that also have my email address and phone number, so there’s no real reason for it for me. We all learned about Facebook suggestions when we signed up. It was like magic. Facebook could find those people that we were connected with at some point or another in life, and re-connect us. Like Montel Williams, only more amazing.

There are the people that Facebook suggested you be friends with because they went to school with you. These suggestions fall into different groups. When I look through the suggestions facebook has for me, I start sorting these people into the groups. Some people fall into the “Oh, I can’t believe I hadn’t added this person before, they are practically my BFF.” Group. Then there’s the people that make me think, “Yes, I should probably add this person, because we were acquaintances in high school.” Then there are the people that I look at and think, “I remember going to school with this person, but did we ever even talk? Did we have a class together?” Then there are the suggestions that everyone dreads. Facebook suggests that you be friends with your ex girlfriend from high school. You know, the one that sliced your tires. Facebook wants you to be friends with the English teacher that flunked you. Facebook wants Batman to be friends with The Joker…since they are both from Gotham. I digress. I have often wondered why Facebook doesn’t have a dislike button somebody should really look into that.. My point is that Facebook gives us the illusion I’ll keeping up with a friendship. What it really does it makes it easier to appear friendly without much effort. In much the same way that texting makes it easier to communicate with a person you’d rather not speak to. I think I just made myself sound really old

I am consistently available for my friends that fall into the category of “closeness”, whatever that means to you.

If you want to have better relationships with your friends, try being available for them. Answer your phone when they call. Everyone knows that most of us have caller ID. And not many people like to leave voice mails.

High School

The first day of my Freshman year I came to school and when I asked where my aid was, I was told that I wasn’t going to have one anymore.
So I started going to Content Mastery there were many other teachers and people that worked at the school that helped me and the other students who required differentiated educational strategies. There was also a room in my school called the “Content Mastery” room, where there were 3-4 tutors that helped with test taking and studying. If I had to take a test, I would go to this room, because if I wrote the answers myself it would look like chicken scratches on the paper and be completely illegible. My mouth has always worked extremely well, but my hands only half as well. So, the tutors in the content mastery room would write the answers that I would tell them so that I could take my tests without giving away the answers to all the other students in the class.

Because I had special needs in school, I built stronger relationships with the staff than the average kid would. I had an English teacher named Sharon Reep (Mrs. Reep). Toward the end of my freshman year, she told us that her siblings used to call her “Blondie”. I don’t remember how this tied into the lesson, but when I was leaving that day after class, I said, “See ya later, Blondie”. The rest of the class gasped, expecting her to be angry, but she loved it. She thought it was funny. We are still in contact to this day, and she has opened up to me that she was intimidated when I rolled into her class in my wheelchair. She thought that I was going to be a lot of extra work and she wasn’t sure what I would require. It took some time, but she realized that her preconceived notions were wrong. I was lazy, a loudmouth, the class clown, smart assed, but I was smart. Besides the chair and the less than agile hands, my brain operated as normal, and I was just as obnoxious, if not more so, than most other boys my age. I spent time talking with Mrs. Reep while she graded papers. I was friends with her sons Jason and Jared. In college, Jason brought me a signed baseball. I’ve had dinner at the principal’s house with his family. I had my economics teacher over to watch movies with me. Liz and I stayed in contact until she passed away in 2011 from lung cancer.
When I was in school, everyone liked me. I had wheels and nobody ever had a problem with me. I had two types of teachers. I had the teachers that didn’t know what to do with me, and I had the ones that liked me. The teachers that didn’t know what to do with me didn’t always like me, but they couldn’t find a way to give me a detention, because the principal always liked me, and would refute any punishment that was coming.
. I was bulletproof through school.
Some might say that the reason I was “bulletproof” was because of my chair. And in some ways, that is true. Most people I meet don’t want to be themselves around me. They hide their true thoughts, because they are afraid of offending the person in the wheelchair. If you say something mean to someone who is your own age and stature, that’s considered ok, but if you say something mean to a person in a wheelchair, you are suddenly a low life cripple-hater. I got turned down by a lot of girls in high school and college, and they would always attest that “it’s got nothing to do with the chair”. Of course it has something to do with the chair. It’s part of who I am. They just didn’t want to tell me the truth because of their fear. So, I digress, being “bulletproof” is a two-edged sword. People can be exceedingly nice to you, but it is difficult to know who is being true to their character and who is wearing a mask.
People that have come into my life that are honest, legitimate, and not intimidated by me are invaluable friends. These are the people you want to surround yourself with in life. They will help you progress and get where you need to be on your life journey. Expect there to be only few people that fit into this category. They are very rare and hard to find, but if you find someone that seems to “fit” like this, you should preserve those relationships at all costs.

Because of this, I was never afraid to approach my teachers. I wasn’t self-conscious like many developing adolescents are. I can’t speak for every handicapped person, but being in a wheelchair made me less self-conscious. If I had stopped to think about what other people were thinking about me, I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere. I never really got self-conscious until I got to college. Looking back, I can see that high school was a lot more fun to me than college, and I think that it was largely because of my confidence at that time in my life. When we let our inhibitions about ourselves take over, it pulls us back from advancing and doing the things we want to do in life.

My freshman year of high school was literally the best year of my life thus far. Every day I would come home after school each day loving my life. Freshman year is supposed to be terrifying, scary, and difficult according to most advisors and school counselors. It’s described as a very difficult transition in one’s life. But for me, it was the opposite of that. It was my best year. One of the reasons I had a great year was because of Tracy in my speech class. She was a beautiful blonde who decided I would be her “puppy dog”. On our first day of class, we had a socialization exercise where we all moved around and got to know each other. I was in my wheelchair, so I had to move around the outside, not into the rows of student chairs. Most of the students were a bit “lost”, as freshman high school students are. Mingling doesn’t come naturally to most of us. Tracy approached me and introduced herself. She told me that she played volleyball and basketball, and invited me to come see her games. I was so enamored with Tracy that I could only nod. If I were standing, I would be weak in the knees. Tracy was nothing short of amazing. That year, I spent a lot of time with Tracy watching her games and hanging out with her in “puppy dog” fashion. In short, I had a huge crush. She had awesome upper class friends that I got to spend time with, like the quarterback on the football team. She liked to party, and was a fun, fiery girl full of happiness and spirit. This was 1994, and Cheryl Crowe had just come out with the record Tuesday Night Music Club, including the hit All I Wanna Do. Tracy loved this song. It became “our” song, even though we were only friends. As an adult, I can understand that she enjoyed playing and toying with me. We never dated, but at that time in my life I was in love, and that made it the best year of my life. Of course, I could have complained and depressed myself because Tracy and I were not lovers, but I was happy with what I had.

Because of Tracy, as a freshman I got to associate with upper classmen. As an adult this might not seem like a big deal, but for a 14 year old boy, this is huge. One of the memories that really sticks out in my mind from that year was when Dmitri, a senior and the quarterback for the football team, caught me in the hallway and motioned for me to come over to him. He was standing there with his girlfriend, who was also nothing short of a spectacular girl. She was a medium-height gorgeous brunette named Erika. Dmitri pulled a hundred dollar bill from his pocket. A hundred dollars was a lot of money back then. A hundred dollar bill is still a lot of money today. He said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and if you can give me the right answer, this $100 is yours.” I looked at the crisp bill questioningly. “If you had the choice, would you hang out with me, or my girlfriend?” asked Dmitri. “Well, duh!” I answered. “She’s hot! I would definitely hang out with Erika.” With that, Dmitri smiled and said, “I’m keeping my $100.” He stuffed the bill back into his wallet, which I found out later that day was a bill his mother had given him before school that morning. It was funny and a memory that stands out to me even now. Dmitri and Tracy both went to Eastern New Mexico University after graduating high school. What makes this memory special isn’t really the hundred dollar bill. I’ve seen other hundred dollar bills in my life since high school, but this one was special because of the memory of the people involved.

As I said before, I still managed to have a great time despite the lack of typical freedoms. I always got good grades and look back on my experiences with fondness.

Despite being in a wheelchair throughout high school, and spending a lot of time with a girl I was absolutely in love with who was not interested in me romantically, it was the best year of my life. Unlike most high school students, I never went to one high school party. I rode in a not-so-hot van to school every day, so that wasn’t really conductive to party traveling. I never had a real date. But despite all of these things, looking back at my experiences, it’s the positive memories that surface first. Sometimes appreciating our lives is more about seeing it for all of the good things rather than looking at all of the shortcomings. I never look back on those years with sadness or regret for what wasn’t there, but I remember them for what was there.

I’m not going to sugar-coat it though. There were some tough pills to swallow along the way. If you look back on your high school and early college times, you probably have fond memories of the freedoms allowed in your coming of age. You probably remember your first car, the ultimate symbol of budding maturity and newfound potential to rebel against the confines of traffic laws and parental control. If you had even a part time job, you suddenly had your own money to spend on anything you would like to purchase. High school is also a time of endless opportunities for adventure. Between the sporting events, school dances, mixers, music concerts, and festivals, the school made sure you were constantly entertained and had ample opportunity to leave your homes and not return until well after curfew.
I traveled in a van. My mother drove that van. This might be enough information to fully explain the situation, but I will go further. I love my mom, and I appreciate all she has done for me, but it’s really hard to pick up chicks with your mom hanging around with you playing the role of chauffer. There’s nothing suave about trying to whisper to your mom, “Hey, I’m going to roll off to the bathroom, ok?” The jobs I had were in school, and while I am secretly grateful that one must stand up to flip burgers, which forever eliminates me as a possible candidate for that position, it may have been nice to have one of those bottom-level jobs with an inherent lack of supervision so that I could have a little bit more freedom. I had friends in school, but like most young people, they were not confident in van-driving. Most teenagers are terrified behind the wheel, and the thought of driving a Ford E-150 to go out cruising doesn’t really set the scene for a wild and crazy night out.

The Tanl
Sexy right?

I went to all the school dances and sporting events, so I didn’t miss out on the school’s entertainment, but for me, it didn’t provide the same levels of freedom that it does for most high school students.

I managed to graduate, on to the college years

Junior high

I remember Liz Shelton would take notes for me, helped me study for tests, and would physically help me around. She was a redheaded woman in her mid-thirties who actually lived down the street from me with her husband and kids. She was one of the people in my life who would treat me like I was a “normal” person without wheels. I remember this having its advantages and disadvantages. I liked that she didn’t talk to me like I was a baby, but at the same time she wouldn’t take any guff from me. At the time, I was wearing leg braces. Technological advances between 1990 and now have introduced a lot of advances in equipment for people with special needs. People without the leg strength to keep their knees from bending and falling out from under them used a standing box. I had metal leg braces that went all the way up to my hips on both sides with locks on both knees and knee pads. They were made of some sort of cheap plastic material, and would cause your skin to sweat incessantly. It was less than pleasant. In school, I wore these braces and I stood in the standing box, which modern technology has developed into the “standing frame”, which is much fancier and looks far more comfortable. The standing box was less efficient than the equipment available today. The box was literally just a wooden box that was just big enough for my body to fit into it with a door on one side so that I could get in. Liz would help me in and out of this box which was clearly made by someone especially for me to avoid the costs of purchasing a fancy one. During my years in school, I was the only person who needed a standing box.

Rejected class room ideas

Just like other people from my generation, there are certain “inside jokes” that followed us. There was a commercial for an elderly care product where the female actress feigns a fall and then says “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up”. Liz once gave me a shirt that said “I’m talking and I can’t shut up”. I can write, but it’s not very legible, so even when I was doing homework I was speaking and dictating so that Liz could write out my answers. Basically, I was talking all the time. This may be one reason why I became such an avid speaker on the radio, but it also meant that I became “less good” at keeping my mouth shut. So, the shirt was appropriate, I suppose. It was an interesting gift that I won’t ever forget.

I Did laps around the gym through grade school in my manual chair for PE.
The janitor of both the junior high and highschool is still a friend of mine. Curtis…decided he would offer me a job. For the PE period every day, he would tie a shop broom to the back of my chair and it would pick up papers and small pieces of trash in the hallways as I rolled along. The broom dragged behind me, and when I saw something that needed to be swept up, I rolled over it so that the broom dragging behind my chair would catch it. That became my PE time. Instead of going around in circles in the gym, I rolled around the school and collected trash with my broom. After PE class, I would get $1. A dollar might not sound like much, but I could get a soda at lunchtime and a snack. A dollar is a lot for a kid in the 90’s.

There was a day that I made Liz mad. I don’t remember what I did to make her mad, but I got a detention slip from Liz…a little purple piece of paper that I had to witness her filling out. The whole time she was filling out the slip, I was laughing. The more I laughed, the angrier she became. Finally, PE period rolled around and I told Curtis about Liz filling out the detention slip for me. Curtis put mop oil on my handles. I finished my job and wheeled myself back to the nurse’s office where Liz was waiting. Somehow, I managed to keep a straight face until Liz grabbed hold of the handles. Immediately, she went to the sink and used a ridiculous amount of paper towels trying to wash the oil off of her hands. The entire Junior High was meeting in the auditorium for an assembly. She wheeled me to the principal and told me to confess of my tricky sin to him. I told him. He laughed, patted me on the shoulder, and walked away.

I was THE MAN in Highschool I had wheels before anyone else

The Patricia effect

Journal Entry for December 14th, 2011 – The last few days, I have not felt good at all. When I meet people, I know there is a reason for it. But I have been dealing with someone that I met who doesn’t handle my personality well. She’s one of those people that I instantly clicked with, and if she hops online and wants to hang out with me, I do. The difficult part is that she thinks I’m neglecting something in my life by spending time with her. I almost never say no when I am asked or invited to do something. The struggle in the last few days is that she feels that because I am available for her that I expect her to be available for me. That’s not the case at all. I like to see her and talk to her, and we’ve already discussed that there are times that she will want time on her own. I’ve also been told that I’m overly kind. That I’m so sweet sometimes that it’s sickening. I don’t know how to BE anyone other than who I am.

When we met, she had this mental image of me being a guy in a wheelchair that sits in the corner and drools all day, so I stepped up and showed her my own independence and my personality. But…she likes to be in charge.

Why do I continue to be friends with this woman? I feel that I’m meant to be there for her. I’m right where I need to be right now.

This is something I actually wrote in December 2011. The woman in question was named Patricia, this was near the beginning of our relationship. We had only known each other since August and this is how I was feeling in December. After sometime, she began to trust me. She became part of my family. She met my grandmother and everyone close to me at a family reunion nearly a year later. She was my best friend for three years. We had our issues and as the Journal entry above indicates she was not afraid to tell me when I was in her face. After three years she was taken from me, murdered by her husband September 25th 2014, He also met my family at the reunion they attended. I recently came home from our 2015 Family reunion, it was close to where she lived. If she were alive, she would have been there, and loved every second. I tell this story about a friend I lost because it goes with a post on this blog about my personality and smothering people. The above entry is how Patricia and I started, she found me overwhelming, and was very unsure about me on certain days. By the end of our relationship, I was her best friend, and a vital part of her family. I felt I was supposed to be a part of her life from day one. The point of this post is, never give up on people, Life is short, too short to walk away from anyone who treats you decently most of the time. People today have very short attention spans and even shorter fuses. There were times that Patricia got frustrated with me, or that I got frustrated with her. We spent several months in our relationship not speaking.

I truly wish now that could have the time back. Who knows, we might have changed the the World together. The people you surround yourself with and your relationships, are all that’s important in this world.

She sucked me in from day 1

Do not take them lightly. My relationship with Patricia maybe the secret ingredient to my future success. You never really know how people will influence your life path, It maybe years before you understand how important your relationships were to your success. Take care of them, don’t neglect them, and be thankful for each one you have. They may be moving you toward being the person you want to be.