I can’t tell you how much fun it is to be on service dog partner #2. Milo (and Chloe), both trained at Fidos For Freedom, Inc. and could not be more different. Milo(bear) is timid by nature. When he is on task, however, he is very focused (and less distracted by wanting to love on EVERYONE like sweet Chloe was). However, his timidity makes introducing new things a bit of a trial.
You may be familiar with a new and popular “thang” called the “Fidget”. They are actually great classroom tools for people with ADHD. I’m all about classroom accessibility, so if things like this can help students concentrate? Well, please come with your Fidget.
Unfortunately it is “new to Milo”. Milo began seeing a lot of Fidgets in the classroom. They spin – and to my knowledge don’t make a noise – but who knows if a dog can hear even this quiet “whirrrrr”? The only problem was that Milo was terrified of them. He’d stop mid-task if he saw a Fidget in use and walk around behind me to peek around my hip.
NOT VERY HELPFUL.
I knew I was going to have to do something to get him use to these spinners. He couldn’t continue hiding under the nearest desk. Since I need him to pick up the items I constantly drop, I needed him to be able to focus in spite of Fidgets around him during class.
After talking to a couple of trainers at Fidos For Freedom, Inc., we decided the way to go was to desensitize Milo to the Fidgets.
… so I bought one.
I opened it up, put the center button between index finger and thumb, and “gave it a whirl” with a flick of my right hand.
Not the WISEST thing to do since Milo(bear) was sitting right next to me. He made a strange sound in the back of his throat and took off. I interpreted it as “Et tu, Brute?” (my Literature teacher-mother would be so proud).
I found Milo in the walk-in closet.
Long story short, I worked with him for 4 days in short intervals of exposure. Here is where he is now…
Hopefully, when classes start on 8/28, Milo(bear) will be completely comfortable with Fidgets. This whole “desensitization” process was good for both of us. My daughter and hubby are expecting my first grand baby in October. Milo has never been around babies. He was raised in Cumberland prison and his puppy raiser before that, nor his one-on-one trainer after… had babies around. I suspect he will have to learn to become accustomed to more things very soon. ‘Cept I won’t be spinning the baby girl around and chasing Milo(bear) to expose him. <AHEM>
Facing Our Fears – and Perhaps Desensitizing Ourselves to Them
One of the biggest pluses of having a service dog partner is the courage the partnership provides. Learning to cue off things Milo(bear) hears, that I don’t, is great! I feel safer. I can count on him to hear things before I do. I can look in the direction the “sound maker” is coming from so that I can stay safely out of the way (cars, large groups of students, shopping carts with rowdy kiddos, etc).
Because of peripheral neuropathy, I drop things all day. I’m not talkin’ about that I drop 2 or 3 things a day. I drop 2 or 3 DOZEN things a day. In the past, I would have to ask for assistance to reach it and/or pick it up. Otherwise I would risk falling because of vestibular issues. This meant I often didn’t go out and do things on my own because it was too hard to ask people for help. Milo(bear) has helped me face some of those fears because he is there to help me. His favorite task is “fetch-hold-give”. In my thinking, this isn’t true desensitization though. Milo(bear) has become an assistive tool to mitigate those challenges. It’s a way around them instead of “through” them.
As I sat and pondered whether or not I have ever truly desensitized myself to something, I realized that most learning through desensitization has come from how I chose to respond to comments, people, or situations.
At the age of 51, I have now lived more of life as a differently-abled person than as an able-bodied one. I can tell you that how I respond to challenges, hurtful comments, or discrimination is much different than how I responded as a 25-year-old. Some of this improvement evolved from exposure. Other measurable steps of improvement simply came from educating myself and learning all I could about positive advocacy. It’s not that the things people say cannot and DO not still hurt me occasionally. My RESPONSE is what has changed. A 25-year-old Denise would:
- Isolate myself for days afterwards
- Embrace depression instead of heading it off with coping techniques
- Open my mouth and “let it rip”
- Throw a private and public pity party (that no one ever RSVP’d to)
- Plot revenge
- Determine to HATE that person to the end of my days
- Google how to put a “hit” out on someone
- Preach at them and try to make them feel guilty with a long, drawn-out “altar call”
- … and more equally ineffective responses.
Even through constant exposure, the 51-year-old Denise does NOT always respond in a healthy and proactive way. I still have “knee-jerk” responses occasionally, especially if it takes me by surprise. However, my new response is at the very least, more helpful to both myself and the twit that said something unkind. Now I tend to:
- Consider the source and determine how best to respond
- Take some time to determine HOW I want to respond
- Determine if I SHOULD respond
- Choose a good time and place to respond
- Cry if needed…
- Chant to myself “you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar” (and then ask myself if I even WANT this particular fly…)
- Occasionally seek advice from a peer support network if it is something “major”
- Follow through on a course of action and DON’T HOLD A GRUDGE
I have learned to do this through trial and error, but also through desensitizing myself to these situations by simply experiencing them and learning what keeps me sane and healthy in how I respond.
Let’s face it.
If you live with disability or chronic illness, you are going to constantly be faced with people who don’t understand, don’t care, or say/do inappropriate things. The 25-year-old Denise response did not improve my situation, nor did it bring peace (my zen was woefully rattled).
I do not FEAR the things people say to me or the situations I may find myself in as I live life. I know “stuff is gonna happen” and when it does, my response is MORE important than how I feel as a result of the experience.
We cannot control the things people say, nor can we completely keep our life experience with disability, “hassle-free”. I do believe we can learn to live in harmony with all the Fidgets in our lives. Being a positive advocate comes from doing things wrong sometimes and learning from it. It also comes from the discovery of having handled something well, and seeing the positive change and result from our proper response.
©2017 Personal Hearing Loss Journal
4 thoughts on “My Name is Milo and I Was Afraid of Fidgets”
Great post. I feel like you wrote that specifically for me, as you know I have been confronting issues that need desensitizing and that I often have trouble effectively dealing with the various bumps in my rocky road. Thank you for another great article.
I don’t think any of us reach the point we have “arrived”. It’s a constant learning curve for all of us. 🙂
It is frustrating to live with the fidgets in your life. After becoming suddenly and prematurely deaf I encountered so many obstacles, hit by car, dropping things and falling at the most opportune moments. The hardest thing for me to accept without being reduced to a puddle of self pity was words spoken by hearing folk who always thought they had the answer to all my difficulties. Not meaning to I believe some of their words were just cruel.
After my cochlear implant things somewhat improved but found these same people became authorities on how now I feel.
Time has become the great healer, it gave me time to adjust and accept my deafness and disability and accept and embrace my new way of life. After awhile it just didn’t matter so much to me what people (usually ones that meant well) thought.
Acceptance and loving ones self is a beautiful thing!
I can’t tell you how much your comment means to me. I have plenty of “those Fidgets” in my life too and it only complicates my own acceptance. Thank you, Elaine.