Careless Words

Published on May 31, 2019May 31, 2019 by hearingelmo2 Comments

As a person with disABILITY, like any within a diversity group, I have experienced harm from words. Before you stop reading and think I’m going to blast the abled population, let me just say that people with disABILITY are often the worst offenders.

If I asked every person in the world to throw up their hand if they have experienced words that have…

hurt them

demoralized them

made them wince (inwardly and outwardly)

caused a “hitch” in your breath because of the unexpectedness

made you cry

made you SWEAR

caused you to “shut down”

forced you into isolation

triggered you to “fight back”

or scarred you for life…

… the sudden uplift of hands worldwide would cause a major shift in wind currents and likely tilt earth off its axis. Seriously. We’ve ALL experienced this.

I use the phrase “experienced words that have…” intentionally. Not all of us HEAR well and many who do hear well don’t listen well. The damage of careless and mean words is not something simply heard or speech read on the lips of fellow human beings. The words are EXPERIENCED. This experience is why damage is done. We take it in. We stew on it. We watch those words ping-pong back and forth in our brains and hearts like a pinball machine, drawing blood and causing wounds from every “hit”. We are scarred.

When my children were younger I would remind them that human beings can FORGIVE but we cannot FORGET. Our words have such power – it’s just freakin’ scary! I am an impulsive speaker. I say things without thinking through and that impulsivity causes regret more times than I can count.

People have told me things before that I needed.

Perhaps I was being a butt-head and careless with my own words. They put me in my place. Maybe it hurt but it was a disciplinary kind of hurt and I walked away wiser and un-scarred. (By the way, all of us have people in our lives whose very positional relationship with us allows them this power).

People have given me true (heartfelt) constructive criticism. This means the intent was clear, precise, and helpful. I am sensitive enough that even this at times can be hurtful, but it doesn’t WOUND.

Those types of experiences can hurt… but they aren’t spirit-murdering (a new word I learned at an Anne Arundel Community College workshop this week). I would like to argue that CARELESS words are never EVER helpful.

The word itself means, “not giving sufficient attention or thought to avoiding harm or errors”. Careless words can be both intentional and direct. They can also be unintentional and “oopsie” moments. Either way they hurt. They wound. They leave scars.

At the end of the semester a handful of students were sticking around to chat after the final. They were lovin’ on Finn, my 3rd service dog in training (SDiT),

… and just “messing around”, hangin’ out, and talking. One of my students muttered something and *I* (emphasis on that I, for I am deaf – grin) heard the collective indrawn breaths. So…

I nosily asked, “what just happened”?

The student said, “Good God, did you hear what I said?“, acting both horrified and astonished.

“Well, no,” I replied, “but I heard y’all’s REACTION”.

Her eyes filled with tears and she admitted, “I said something contradictory and stupid and then said, ‘GAWD that was bipolar of me'” She then slapped her hand over her mouth and looked around at the group with big eyes. The group all immediately patted her back and assured her that “we ALL say stupid things”, and “we knew what you meant”. She vehemently waved all their support aside and said MUCH louder…

“No, NO. You don’t understand! I AM BIPOLAR. I just slammed myself!”

At this point, the floodgates opened and she was sobbing hysterically. It was contagious… of the 8 students standing there, five of them were in tears within minutes!

Do you know they stuck around for another 20 minutes and discussed the power of words and stereotypes? I just stood there in awe watching what I hoped was a little bit of my teaching rubbing off as they expertly dissected and dialogued about intent, carelessness, and harm.

OWN It

You are gonna spew careless words. Whether you speak with your voice or your hands, you are going to speak before thinking. Or… maybe you speak AFTER thinking but you simply don’t care about the damage you are unleashing.

Own it. If you care, if you want to minimize the damage, if you want to do better, if you are the kind of human being that understands the power of words, OWN IT.

Apologize if needed (and mean it)

Make amends

Strive to do better. Vow it!

Practice

Call it (when appropriate) when you see others do it

Follow up and use all five apology languages IN WRITING.

This last one I have learned the power of this conscious decision to OWN it by following up with a note. Whether it is a handwritten note, an email or text, etc., writing down a follow up with a person I threw careless words at is so important.

It becomes this tangible, concrete evidence of my regret and promise to do better. The injured party can re-visit it if they want. It may act as a future means of measurement to them about how far I’ve come in using words as weapons. For me, it acts as a literal pivot point from which I can measure my own growth, my own practice of intentional, encouraging communication.

Next week, I want to discuss how one goes about admitting and voicing that “ouch! that hurt”. If careless words can injure, we are all wounded warriors. What do you do or say if someone hurts you?

Have a great week y’all!

L. Denise Portis, Ph.D.

“We Are Not Given a Good Life or a Bad Life”

Published on August 15, 2018 by hearingelmo3 Comments

“We are not given a good life or a bad life. We are given a life. It’s up to us to make it good or bad.” (Devica Fernando)

I believe one of the most self-destructive things a person with disAbility can do is to compare themselves to other people. I have even heard people with disAbilities compare themselves to other people with disAbilities… seemingly weighing “who has it worse“. Y’all? I have done this myself. Believe you me – I get it.

I think people who live with chronic illness or disability do this for one of two reasons:

They are trying to remind themselves they are better off than “so-and-so”
They are trying to discount the perseverance and courage of another because there is “no way they can understand YOUR life” because you have things much worse.

Let me start with the first one.

If you have “stuff”… physical, emotional, and mental challenges, don’t ever compare yourself with someone else also struggling. This is especially dangerous if you end up invalidating your own difficulties. The life challenges you deal with are just as legitimate and real as those faced by other people.

Frankly? Every person you know is fighting a battle you may – or may not – know about. This is the reality of life. Those of us “dealing” with life’s challenges were not given a good life nor a bad life. In spite of what I’ve heard others bellyache, not even God is at fault for your “good or bad” life. As Ms. Fernando stated, “It’s up to US (emphasis added) to make it good or bad”.

So (temporary) pity parties are not allowed? Well of course they are allowed. They are also

expected

normal

even beneficial.

You just can’t stay there wallowing in self-pity. If you believe in the power of “psyching yourself up”, simply do so by focusing on your own life and don’t compare yourself to others. It’s OK to not be OK. It’s not OK to think you should be OK, because compared to others you’ve got it pretty good. The struggle is real and we all have struggles.

Before I leave this point, allow me to just say that I am “born again” about sharing and caring with other people who live with chronic illness and disAbility. We can learn from each other. My greatest “teachers”, those who by example or explanation, coached me to try a different approach, a new assistive device or tool, or to adopt a new mindset to help me succeed.

The second point can be much harder to avoid. As a person with disAbility (late-deafened) and chronic illness (Meniere’s disease), I sit in meetings with my peers feeling frustrated when someone makes a really lame excuse for not doing something well or refusing to take on a responsibility. I think, “Well for love of cracker jacks, who goes around saying they couldn’t complete a task or responsibility because they are just to busy?” (Yes. I really think this LOL).

Who am I to say that someone without VISIBLE disAbility or chronic cannot use “busy-ness” as an excuse? Maybe they are dealing with something you do not know about. Maybe…

Their child has an unhealthy addiction.

They are scrambling to make room for their ailing mother who can no longer live alone.

Their most significant, personal relationship just imploded.

Their doctor wants to see them to re-take a medical test.

At the community college campus where I work, inclusion is the word of the day (and week, month, and year). Yet inclusion – includes – people who seemingly do not fit into a defined diversity group. Diversity implies all the ways we are different. I don’t know anyone breathing who isn’t different in some way. Inclusion, means to universally INCLUDE.

This past week I retired my 2nd service dog from Fidos For Freedom, Inc., specifically from working with me in the classroom at AACC. We started a major demolition and construction project this summer. Unfortunately, after working nearly 3 months on desensitization, Milo is unable to cope with the loud noises and “mini earthquakes” to focus on his job and assist me. I taught two classes this summer (Developmental Psych and Intro to Psych) and they were the hardest classes I have taught to date. I have had the assistance of a service dog in the classroom for 14 years! (Milo will continue as my partner in all other areas and is not retired full-time as of yet). Having to carry all of these assistive devices to work just to be independent in picking up things I’ve dropped or walking without wobbling, has been an emotional, mental, and physical challenge for me.

A couple of weeks ago during one of the breaks I offer (as it is a 4-hour class!), I ran into a colleague who teaches in a different department. I know her well enough that when I said, “Hey! How are you doing?” she answered honestly.

“My life is hell. This is the hardest summer session I have ever taught.”

I will admit my first thought was a flurry of reverse-prejudiced “OH BRUTHER” rationalizations.

I mean… she is healthy and athletic, and in her prime. She has tenure. She is well respected. Her expertise is valued. How is it that SHE is having the toughest summer? She doesn’t have any disAbilities or chronic illnesses! There I went with a silent “eye roll” and judgement simply because the things I was dealing with in adjusting without a partner were so much more IMPORTANT than anything she could bellyache about!

I immediately (mentally) slapped myself up side the head (though likely would have benefited from the real deal), and instead asked, “Well gee! What has been going on?”

Come to find out anything that COULD be going wrong in her life, was indeed going wrong. Her teen daughter was hospitalized and put in long-term care for depression. It came from out of nowhere and no one in the family had seen any warning signs. Early in the summer, she nearly lost her to suicide. Add to that long-term plumbing issues, car troubles, financial woes, and an internet stalker (I kid you not) rounded out the “list”.

Nope. This fellow teacher does not have any disabilities that I am aware of, nor any chronic illnesses. Yet, she too, has been struggling all summer and doing her best to cope. She, like me, chases down and hog-ties that professional smile to paste on right before entering a classroom. She is distracted and suffering from insomnia. She has cried many tears. Embracing true inclusion has taught me to recognize that her struggles are just as real as mine are. I love what Jordan (2011) said in the Diversity Journal: “Inclusion involves bringing together and harnessing these diverse forces and resources, in a way that is beneficial. Inclusion puts the concept and practice of diversity into action by creating an environment of involvement, respect, and connection—where the richness of ideas, backgrounds, and perspectives are harnessed to create business value.”

My colleague’s “stuff” looks different than my own “stuff”. It’s still STUFF. Encouraging and supporting everyone, benefits, well… EVERYONE. No one has everything going for them; a life without problems, fears, or struggles. However, everyone has something going for them.

Everyone.

Denise Portis

©2018 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

I Would Rather Walk with a Friend in the Dark, than Alone in the Light

Published on June 1, 2018June 1, 2018 by hearingelmo8 Comments

fullsizeoutput_8d0

I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light — Helen Keller

I graduated from Walsh High School in a rural area of Colorado in 1984. Fast forward 34 years <wince> and I am graduating again with now my final degree. In 1984 I was a healthy young woman with a moderate hearing loss in one ear. In 2018 I am a middle-aged woman in a perpetual state of getting healthy <wince>, profoundly deaf (and “hearing again” as long as I am wearing my bionics) and an adult with disability from Meniere’s disease and Post Concussive Syndrome.

It may surprise you to learn that I am happier and healthier (emotionally and psychologically) than I was at the age of 18. Life has been hard – and continues to be, but doesn’t everyone experience that in some form or fashion? My challenges have made me who I am today.

The 2018 Denise, has found a life worth living by embracing my unique challenges and focusing my life and energy in the disability community. Oh yes! It’s hard sometimes… dark even; however, I am amongst friends, fellow warriors, super heroes, and advocates.

May I just say, “THANK GOD FOR THE INTERNET”? There are numerous research studies that support that the Internet has connected, educated, and created a platform for advocacy for those with disability. The community, the friends I have found over the last 34 years has made every challenge I’ve shouldered worth it. Most of the people with disabilities I have come to know have different challenges and diagnoses. Yet all work hard to experience the best quality of life they can. We use a variety of accessibility tools, medications, assistive devices, and medical procedures to maximize every opportunity while insisting on a productive and meaningful life. We are stubborn. We believe in self-care. Our priorities tend to be the things that really matter. Some of us are Spoonies.

My dissertation, something I have become quite passionate about, revolves around the theory that traumatic events and diagnoses do not have to destroy a person. As a matter of fact, a wealth of research (my own included) supports that these events can stimulate growth – the foundation of Posttraumatic Growth studies.

This doesn’t mean that I do not have bad days. They happen. Those bad days are something you recognize and experience as well. Yet I have learned that walking in the dark and challenging path of life with disability with all OF YOU, is far better than any walk I took on the lighted, well-tended path alone.

My challenges are progressive. Do you know that doesn’t even bother me? I’ve learned how resilient I am and I have learned to:

Reach out to my community when needed for support
Ask for advice and work-arounds
Find new ways of doing things
Rely on a loyal service dog for minuscule but necessary tasks I was too afraid to bother others with
Believe in myself
Pray hard – but work harder
Never stop learning
Believe the future is accessible
Stand with others
Be vulnerable and open about the good and the bad

uphill-battle

I’ve also learned to CHOOSE HAPPINESS and to do my best to spread that message. It may seem like a difficult choice some days, but cognitive psychologists agree that if you deliberately change your thinker (your chooser), it will change your feeler, and show in a change in your behavior. It is amazing what “choosing happiness” can do to your personal outlook. Don’t be afraid to embrace the days you scream and cry and cuss up a storm (sorry mom). Those days will happen as well. I have learned though that if my focus is positive advocacy and choosing happiness, those screaming days are few and far between.

I’ve always admired Helen Keller. This intelligent and gifted woman had neither sight nor hearing. Yet Helen learned that her life “in the dark” was pleasantly full of like-minded friends and associates. She knew the value of walking in the dark with a friend. I hope you can learn to embrace that mindset as well.

L. Denise Portis, Ph.D.

Chronic Pain – Part ONE

Published on May 26, 2018 by hearingelmo7 Comments

Welcome to guest blogger, Deborah Marcus, long-time friend (sister), fellow advocate and writer, and professional photographer. It is always great to have guest bloggers on Hearing Elmo because although I have lived with disability for 27+ years, I do not and cannot understand chronic pain conditions as it is not something symptomatic of my own challenges. I have always been thankful for that — for one thing I am a wuss. I have loved and admired Deb for a long time, in part because I consider her a warrior woman who DOES live with chronic pain. This is part ONE of a multi-part posting. Follow up posts in the future will link to this one so that her story chapters will remain connected.

What persuades me to step back from the ledge? What worked yesterday, today, what will work tomorrow? Those who live with chronic, severe pain or illness are familiar with these questions.

I have lived with disability for much of my life. Hard of hearing from a relatively young age, severely so through my 20s and 30s until I began to hear again at age 42 with cochlear implants, I am no stranger to the need to make adjustments. I have lived with other disabling conditions, too, which unlike hearing loss and deafness are largely a product of the external forces of trauma and abuse. At 54, I have lost count of the moments when I’ve told myself “keep on, keep on”. As a result of physical abuse which once took the form of being sent down a long flight of stairs, backwards and head first, I have experienced increasing challenges with my vestibular (balance) system. Once a series of intermittent episodes of vertigo, my imbalance is now chronic. For over two years now, I have not had a minute where my equilibrium is not in a struggle with the space around me. Along with this is a condition that I have managed to cope with for 38 years, for which I had no name until recently. Three years ago I wrote a short piece describing life with trigeminal neuralgia. Things have changed regarding my TN status since then, but it’s instructive to see where I was at that time: https://visionsofsong.com/2015/07/10/into-the-sunshine-living-with-trigeminal-neuralgia/

It is not the only pain condition I live with, but it is the most distinctly life-altering. About six months ago, I realized that the medication treatment that was giving some relief wasn’t doing much anymore. Trying different medications and doses brought no help. I spoke with my doctor, who referred me to a hospital that does high volume work in the areas of gamma knife radiosurgery and microvascular decompression, the only two procedures currently advised for my condition.Both procedures have a relatively high success rate for trigeminal neuralgia, 70 to 80 percent depending on various factors. After consultation, in early March of this year I underwent the gamma knife procedure. After a week’s time, I felt some improvement, which was incredibly uplifting for my mood, which had reached new lows. Knowing that it can take a couple of months to see the full effect, I hung in on the bad days, rejoicing in the better days in between, and anticipating further improvements. In the past couple of weeks, I have not been doing well. This past week has been terrible, and I have found myself bursting into tears as much due to despair as to the pain levels. My world, which was shrinking due to severe, chronic facial pain, was beginning to open up a bit, only to feel shrunken once again. I can’t decide which is worse, not thinking there would be anything that could really help bring my pain levels to manageable levels, or trying something that may in the end prove to be a failure for me.

The depression I have been managing somewhat successfully stepped to the front of the line. I became obsessed with the idea of planning my death. Not yet planning my death, but finding the idea of planning it out, by suicide, an intriguing possibility. Why? Why now, when I’ve lived with physical and psychic pain for so long, does it seem like now might be a good time to end my life? What makes one moment better than another, or none of them the right time? As much as I have dealt with depression to varying degrees throughout the years, I don’t recall a moment exactly like the one I had this week, thinking that maybe I’m done, really and truly. I felt that if I expressly stated that to anyone close to me, they would call in the big guys on me, which I do not want. Besides, I’ve been feeling like I’m wearing out the handful of good, caring people in my life with my challenges. I did not want to burden them with such thoughts. I knew that I could call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (found here https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/) and opted to use the chat box to communicate rather than the phone. It took a little while to get to the front of the line, but I wanted to see what would happen. As a Mental Health First Aid instructor, I know what it’s for and recommend it often. I wasn’t sure if it made sense to call since I wasn’t sitting by the computer with a gun or a bottle of pills in my hand. I recognized my need to reach out, and am glad that I called. The person on the line didn’t tell me much I didn’t know, but I could tell they cared that I was struggling, and that meant a lot. At the end of the call, they ask for some feedback. One of the questions has to do with feeling hopeful/hopeless. I was able to say that I felt a little less alone after this brief conversation. It got me thinking about how much, and yet how little I need. I suspect this dichotomy is true for many of us. I can only share from my perspective, and from what I’ve teased from things shared by others over the years.

There has been a fair amount of discussion lately regarding the intersection of childhood trauma and health outcomes. If you would like to look at this in some depth, you may consider starting here, though there are many other resources: https://www.ucsf.edu/news/2016/10/404446/undoing-harm-childhood-trauma-and-adversity

As a survivor of (and sometimes thrive-r in spite of) sexual and physical abuse, having undergone several rounds of therapy to figure out how to cope, I did not immediately make the connection between my physical challenges and what I had experienced while growing up. The mind-body connection was happening in spite of my limited insight. Oh, I understood that my mood could be connected to my experiences, but pain? Not only acute pain, or pain that is persistent due to an event, but pain in parts of the body that were not injured, or if they had been, were still in pain long past when the bodily injury had healed. I have been handed and thrown off a diagnosis of fibromyalgia twice in 12 years. No fibro for me, thank you! It’s that diagnosis they give you when they don’t know what’s wrong, is what I would tell folks. If sounds so…hopeless. I know some who live with this diagnosis, and they find ways to make a good life for themselves. It felt like being saddled with one more thing that I didn’t want to carry.

But trigeminal neuralgia, that’s something they can tie to an event. In some cases it develops post-shingles. In others, trauma can be the culprit, and again, we suspect that is the case for me. I have been more comfortable talking about this severe and persistent pain condition than any of the others, yet there is no denying that all of what I experience is intertwined within me, and so perhaps the only way through all of this is through all of it. Still, I haven’t figured out what to say to myself to want to keep on during the worst moments. I think I put every penny I had on this horse winning the race, with the radiosurgery giving me significant relief for a while. If it doesn’t, I’ll need to see if I can find another message that is meaningful, to keep on, keep on.

I welcome feedback, and aim to follow up with another piece on the topic of chronic pain, disability, and the reconstructing of a meaningful life.

Deborah Marcus

https://visionsofsong.com

New Twist on an Old Fable

Published on May 4, 2018 by hearingelmoLeave a comment

Townsend version of Aesop’s Fable: The Crow and the Pitcher

A crow perishing with thirst saw a pitcher, and hoping to find water, flew to it with delight. When he reached it, he discovered to his grief that it contained so little water that he could not possibly get at it. He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but all his efforts were in vain. At last he collected as many stones as he could carry and dropped them one by one with his beak into the pitcher, until he brought the water within his reach and thus saved his life.

Moral: Necessity is the mother of invention.

I have the privilege of hanging out with numerous people with disability. Some are students, some are colleagues I work with at Anne Arundel Community College, and some are individuals I know from various community advocacy groups. One thing I have learned about people with disabilities,

“Where there’s a will… there’s a way”

This “will” is what this Aesop’s fable of the Crow and the Pitcher reminds me of as I have seen time and time again, people with disabilities finding a way to accomplish what they need to do with whatever means available to them and within their own power.

I was walking towards an “accessible” bathroom with a young woman who self-identified as a “little person”. I normally have a rolling briefcase trailing from my right hand and a service dog in heel with the leash in my left-hand. As we approached the bathroom, I readied myself to disengage myself from my rolling briefcase and pull the bathroom door open. Before I could do so, the student yanked one of her textbooks out of her book bag, stepped up on it, and pulled the door open. She held it open for me and never missed a beat… continuing to talk about what we were discussing on the way to the women’s bathroom.

I, myself, do things that I have simply learned which allow me to be independent. However, this example stuck with me a long time. The young woman was accustomed to doing this and obviously had practice. The young woman’s “normal” reaction was an expectation to do something NEW and NECESSARY to accommodate her need.

Another example: One day on campus as I was preparing for class, a student whom I have met only in the hallway a few times after exchanging a cheerful greeting, poked her head in the door and waved at me. This student uses a wheelchair. I walked over and realized the issue before she even opened her mouth. Right outside this classroom is a CRAZY women’s bathroom that has an entrance that is impossible for any person with mobility issues to get in and out of without assistance.

“Need me to get the door?” I asked.

“Yup!” – “Thanks!” she whispered with a knowing grin.

Later that week I saw her in the hallway again. This time instead of only a cheerful greeting in passing, she stopped me and told me thank you again. Even though the other bathroom on the third floor where we were was more accessible, it was much further from her class and she lacked the time necessary to go down that far to avoid being late for class. I explained to her that I had to have help with this particular door too if I had my service dog with me. We both giggled at how ridiculous it was that we required assistance for that bathroom. (Do you know I still don’t know her name? Comrade in arms, but clueless as to who she is – smile). The day I got the door for HER, my service dog was waiting patiently behind me in the classroom so I was able to assist without any hoopla or drama.

Just in case you are not a long-time reader of Hearing Elmo, I have Meniere’s disease (a vestibular disorder) and “hear again” with a cochlear implant. I also have post-concussive syndrome. I have made numerous adjustments and changes within my home, car, and office to eliminate my need for assistance. Since I can’t raise my hands over my head without swooning, everything I need in the kitchen is on a shelf I can reach safely. My shower has everything I need eye level instead of up higher on the rock-faced shower wall. I have chair-rail molding all over the house so that I can grab it with my fingers if I am walking and get wobbly. All my appliances and drawers that “stick” have a tug on them so that Milo (my service dog) can open them for me. I could go on and on, but I don’t want you to miss that the reality of ANYONE with disability or chronic illnesses, is that they are accustomed to doing whatever it takes to be as independent as possible.

Please Keep in Mind

Will you do your best to remember one thing? If a person with disability, chronic illness, or invisible condition asks you for assistance, you are their LAST resort. They have thought of and planned for everything that they can to be as independent as possible. However, there are times that we just need help.

Don’t make a big deal about helping, just do it calmly and with grace.

Don’t discuss the details or “unfairness” of the person needing your assistance unless THEY want to discuss it.

Don’t feel sorry for us.

Don’t be super dramatic and bring attention to the issue.

Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way

Earlier I stated, “where there’s a will, there’s a way”. If you live with disability, chronic illness, or visible/invisible conditions, I understand when WILL disintegrates. I work as hard as the next person with disability to be independent and strong. Yet… there are times I just throw up my hands and yell, “SCREW this! I give up!”

I cannot speak for others because we are all SO different. Even people who share the same diagnosis may:

Have different symptoms
Take different medications
Have different responses/side effects to those medications
Have more support than you do
Have less support than you do
Have a different personality style and traits
Have a different developmental history than you do
Have different faith practices than you
Have different co-morbid diagnoses (Other conditions in addition to their primary challenge)
Have cognitive issues as well that impact problem-solving

I can say that for ME, the best thing I can do after having a “Screw this” kind of day, is to go to bed. And yup… I mean I do so even if it is only 5 PM! I always feel better, have a clearer head, and a renewed WILL after getting some rest.

I am really tired of being TIRED after having to find and produce my own accommodations for various activities. However, a fresh perspective (after a good night’s rest) nearly always renews my inner warrior and allows me to face a new day willing to do whatever I need to in order to be a thriving, surviving disability advocate.

In the comments, I welcome other examples of how you have learned to make things accessible for you.

Warm hugs and virtual “high 5’s” to my fellow differently-abled people!

© Personal Hearing Loss Journal

Denise Portis, Ph.D.

My Name is Milo and I Was Afraid of Fidgets

Published on August 3, 2017 by hearingelmo4 Comments

My name is Milo and I’m afraid of Fidgets

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.

Desensitization

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:

Cry
Isolate myself for days afterwards
Embrace depression instead of heading it off with coping techniques
Open my mouth and “let it rip”
Retaliate
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.

Denise Portis

©2017 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

Comparisons Are Rarely Healthy

Published on July 21, 2017July 21, 2017 by hearingelmo2 Comments

This summer I traveled to North Carolina to attend my nephew’s wedding. Although we didn’t get to spend very much time while there, it was great to see all my extended family. My parents and 2 brothers both live there, and my sister traveled from Texas with her boys to attend.

Seth and Megan Burhenn
Aren’t they cute?

I can’t remember what started the conversation, but one evening we started talking about Q-tips. The discussion included snippets of all of us understanding that Q-tips were not to be used to clean ears (at least not down into the ear canal), yet we all used them for exactly that.

My mother chimed in and said, “Well that’s better than Bobby Pins! We use to grab a Bobby Pin to clean our ears!”

I admitted that I could remember my grandmother carefully cleaning her ear with the rounded side of a Bobby Pin.

Essentially we sat around talking about the stupid things we know we shouldn’t do yet do them anyway. Ahem.

One Up

Later while I giggled to myself and thought about that conversation, I had to admit how silly it was to try to “one up” each other on STUPID THINGS WE DO.

All of us play the “one up” game.

We shouldn’t.

One day last week I jot down some notes to prepare for this post. It hit me that at the age of 51, I have now lived more of my life as a differently-abled person than I have as an able-bodied person. I was left scratching my head wondering why it is still so HARD?

Side note: One of the suck things about progressive illnesses is that the person finds themselves in a near constant state of adapting. You’d think it would get easier the more you live it, but it doesn’t. At least… it hasn’t for me.

I’m trying to learn to stop comparing myself to others. It’s taken a lifetime to just be better about ignoring the temptation of the “one up” game. I’m still guilty of it occasionally.

I’ve been in a bad place. (Part of the reason I haven’t posted like I should).

I hate to write when I’m in a bad place, but I am going to try to just continue to be real, vulnerable, and honest. Life is hard and we tend to try to pretend it isn’t so that others will not be discouraged. *Cue “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly” soundtrack*

When I start feeling sorry for myself, two things happen:

I hear my mother’s voice in my head, “No one said life is fair, Denise“.

AND

2. I start trying to dig myself out of the self-pity pit by reminding myself that “so- and-so” has to live with this issue, or that one, and I don’t. “So suck it up, Denise!”

Deb is one of my best friends. She gets me. I can bellyache to her and not have to worry that she will think I’m a wuss, a coward, or whiner. She and I have some similar challenges, yet shoulder different ones as well. For example, I do not deal with chronic pain. I’ve always admired people who persevere and live a victorious life and yet deal with chronic pain. Deb is always quick to remind me that we shouldn’t try to improve our outlook by comparing our challenges with others. Our challenges are our challenges, period. (Pretty profound, huh?) It only undermines our own value to fall into the habit of thinking we should suck it up because we aren’t as bad off as someone else. By whose measurement is bad — bad? Our struggles are just as real as the next person’s. It’s OK to acknowledge a bad day. It’s OK to say, “I’m struggling. I’m discouraged. I need help”.

This kind of “comparison thinking” is especially harmful to those with invisible illnesses and disabilities. You don’t have to have an adaptive device on your person to prove you are a person who has been forced to ADAPT.

Service dog bookends. Milo (left), Chloe (right)

I am currently partnered with my second service dog from Fidos For Freedom. My first service dog, Chloe, entered my life in 2006. At the time, hearing loss was my biggest challenge. New to the cochlear implant and in the early stages of a Meniere’s disease diagnosis, I had more than one encounter in public where people thought I was Chloe’s trainer. Looking at me, it didn’t appear that I needed a service dog. I had not yet “blinged-up” my cochlear implant and hearing aide, and was not yet a wobbly weeble. When I explained she was actually trained to assist ME, people were surprised. Now that my balance is so significantly impaired, no one asks if my current service dog, Milo, is my partner. We should never judge someone on appearances alone.

One of my favorite extra-curricular activities is my involvement in SODA. A co-advisor of one of the college’s student clubs, SODA (Students Out to Destroy Assumptions), currently has just as many active members with invisible conditions as we do members with visible ones. Yet all these fantastic young adults adapt. They struggle. They are all samfferent (same + different… did you just roll your eyes?)

I don’t know if it is young adults in general, or THESE young adults specifically, but I believe they are really adept at valuing each individual person and not comparing themselves with others. My co-advisor and I may use the word “super hero” too often within this fantastic group, but truly each one is a super hero in their own right and might.

And so are you.

Denise Portis

Mitochondrial Disease in the News

Published on July 14, 2017 by hearingelmo1 Comment

I love having guest writers at Hearing Elmo because it helps all my readers understand and stay informed about various disabilities that, frankly? I have very little information and certainly a lack of firsthand knowledge. Ruth has written for Hearing Elmo before and I always welcome her contributions. For this post her husband, Gary, contributed as well.

Mitochondrial Disease is in the news again, because of the battle between the parents and the English justice system over the treatment of little Charlie Gard. The form of Mitochondrial Disease that Charlie Gard has is extremely severe and very rare. It has damaged everything in his body to the extent that he requires medical life support to survive.

The core of mitochondrial disorders is energy. Mitochondria is in every body cell (minus red blood cells) and is responsible for converting food to energy. When this does not work properly, it is call Mitochondrial Disease (or Mito for short). Mito affects everyone differently, depending on where and how the person’s mitochondria are affected. Any body system that has defective mitochondria will malfunction and possibly progress to complete failure.

As a person with Mito, people have asked me what the effect of mitochondrial disease is. For me, it means working with multiple medical specialist to maintain the function of weakened organs. Because the degree of energy and fatigue determines the rate at which my organs deteriorate, managing that energy level is my greatest challenge.

Some people use the spoon theory to explain life with Mito fatigue. However, my husband and I wrote another narrative that makes more sense to us. Instead of spoons, we picture a zero balance bank account. Just about, everyone knows what it means to have a bank account and how the balance of that account affects his or her activities. They also know the pain of an overdraft charge.

A healthy person makes energy deposits into their account from food, rest and exercise and has energy left in their account at the end of the day to pass over to the next day. People with Mito do exactly the same thing, but because their energy output is very low, their account drops to zero at the end of the day with nothing to share with the next day.

People with Mito know that all of their body’s involuntary organs like their brain, heart, lungs, ears, eyes, and digestive system need a huge portion of the limited energy they are able to put into their account. The average healthy person is typically unaware of the energy use by their involuntary body systems.

After meeting the energy needs of their involuntary functions, using energy for self-care activities is next. This includes things like bathing, brushing teeth, dressing, or eating. Some people with Mito do not have enough energy in their account to do these things independently, and some can do them independently, but often need to rest to build up their energy account between tasks.

After basic self-care comes necessary health related appointments to the dentist, the primary care doctor, the endless specialists, therapy appointments, etc. The person with Mito has to anticipate ahead of time how much extra energy these appointments will demand. To avoid having their energy balance slip into the red, which means a Mito crash where involuntary body systems are short of energy and struggling to function, they spend days ahead resting more, and building up their account to cover that extra expenditure of energy.

Everyone gets health benefit from exercise. People with Mito have difficulty with repetitive movement, as their energy accounts are often too low to replenish the energy used by their muscles fast enough. Yet getting some exercise, even passive exercise provided by therapists, results in strengthening. It takes considerable effort for people with Mito to balance their energy account with exercise.

Like every other functioning human being, a people with Mito, have the same desire to live independent lives as healthy people do. This can mean parenting children, holding down a job, keeping up their home and yard, shopping, preparing meals, participating in religious activities, attending educational classes, enjoying leisure activities, and keeping up with friends and family. Participation in these ordinary things are difficult, or even impossible, for people with Mito because their energy account balance is too low.

People with Mito can increase the balance in their account by careful budgeting of their energy. They can chose to sit to perform their self-care routines, instead of standing as most people do. They can use a mobility device to save the energy they would use to walk, to do something else. They take advantage of seating that tilts to avoid using the extra energy that it takes to sit upright against gravity. They can chose the timing of their activities to avoid extremes of temperatures, which will drain much energy from their account.

Finally, there are those unexpected life events that may totally empty a Mito person’s energy account: mental and emotional stress (both positive and negative), illness and surgery. A simple cold can be life threatening for a person with Mito, depending the amount of energy left in their account to fight it. It can take days and even weeks for the person with Mito to replenish their energy accounts.

Though I cannot do everything, I want to do, and have struggles with my limitations; life is good, because I have learned by years of practice how to budget my energy. My husband helps too by taking on the more energy consuming activities, while I do the less energy consuming things in our household. This way we can enjoy more of what life has to offer, together.

Ruth and Gary Fox

L. Denise Portis

When You Want to Smack ‘Em With Your Cane

Published on May 24, 2017May 24, 2017 by hearingelmo2 Comments

handicapped-restroom

When you are differently-abled, going to the bathroom can be a pain in the… well?

… BUTT.

If you are partnered with a service dog, it can make the process even trickier until you get a nice routine down. Likely, one of the biggest issues for all of us is ACCESS.

In the United States, public restrooms are required to be handicap accessible. For restrooms that have multiple stalls, the number of required handicap accessible stalls depends on the total number of stalls in that location. All must have at least one, according to the ADA.

fullsizeoutput_bd

Milo, my current service dog from Fidos For Freedom, Inc., is a very big boy. A German sheprador, Milo is 80 lbs. of helpful tail wags. Between my wobbles, cane, and big boy helper, I require some room to use the bathroom safely. I will be honest with you, I use to get aggravated if waiting for a handicap stall, only for the person to exit and they looked perfectly fine to ME.

A student leader in the Anne Arundel Community College‘s SODA club (Students Out to Destroy Assumptions), reminded me during a particular scathing belly-ache rant, that not all disabilities are visible. I think it is great when student leaders can challenge long-time advocates, don’t you? Kudos.

So yesterday, I stopped in at the women’s bathroom prior to my Diversity Institute workshop, to find the bathroom empty with the exception of…

… yeah, you guessed it,

the handicap stall. I stood there (with legs crossed) and waited for the person to exit. I even took out my phone to appear less desperate. Milo’s ears perked up (indicating a toilet was being flushed), and I stepped to the side about a foot so that the person could exit safely. I didn’t bat an eye when the person who came out “appeared perfectly abled”. It is no longer my default judgment to assume the person didn’t need the larger size, rails, and access to the stall.

I was surprised, then, when the young woman, said, “Oh gosh. Sorry, I use this so I have more room for my book bag and didn’t think someone who actually needed it would be waiting!”

I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open.

I counted to ten and purposefully and deliberately maintained the position of my cane on the floor where it belonged, and said, “Yeah, there’s always a chance someone will need it who is waiting for the accessible stall!” I smiled (honestly! I did!) and scooted around her with Milo, closed and locked the door.

I was so mad I couldn’t pee. (Just bein’ honest folks!)

I have never had proof staring me in the face before. 24 hours later I am still processing it. My new default is a good one though. We cannot judge who uses a handicap stall even if there are other stalls empty.

Before you assume, remember:

The handicap stall might be the only one empty when they came into the bathroom.
Perhaps the other toilets are “nasty” or out of order.
Perhaps it is a parent with a small child to assist.
The person may have a genuine need for the stall. Some common invisible disabilities include: A) Anxiety disorders (especially phobias such as mysophobia, claustrophobia, and OCD)
B) Early stages of progressive diseases (MS, Rheumatoid arthritis, Parkinson’s, cancer, etc.)

C) Digestive disorders (IBS, Colitis, etc.)

D) Pain disorders (Fibromyalgia, Mitochondrial, and joint diseases)

E) Chronic fatigue and related illnesses

F) Age related conditions

So… put the cane down; no clobbering innocent folks relieving their own needs.

~~BUTT~~… But —

For those of you who use the handicap stall even when there are others available and you prefer “more space”,

well… shame on you.

That wasn’t nearly as satisfying as busting someone up ‘side the head. I remind myself that I can be an unfeeling jerk and clueless twit about things I don’t understand. If we all learn to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes, the world would be more respectful and kind.

Denise Portis

This is My Fight Song

Published on May 7, 2017 by hearingelmo3 Comments

The first time I heard Rachel Platten’s “Fight Song“, it was actually sung by a different young woman who had faced a life threatening illness and “won”. You can find Calysta Bevier’s audition for “America’s Got Talent” HERE.

Yesterday, Fidos For Freedom, Inc. held its annual certification day. Service dog and hearing dog teams re-certify their skills and clients take a written exam. Milo and I passed with flying colors. While there, I was able to catch up with other teams. I overheard various teams refer to their service dog as their “partner in crime”, “wing man”, “partner”, “side kick”, “best friend”, and “best buddy”.

I’m a believer in the power of the human spirit. I have also seen many people who are differently-abled, dig deep and find the wherewithal to “just keep swimming” (as our friend Dory from Disney’s “Finding Nemo” taught us). At certification day, there is understandably some waiting in line. In an “all volunteer” organization, it takes a village of caring and committed volunteers to make certification day happen. However, clients do have to spend some time waiting for the next station to open up so that they can be tested on those skills. While waiting, I people watch. I’m easily caught up in emotion and found myself getting choked up looking around at various teams performing like super heroes. Can these individuals FIGHT without a service dog at their sides? Yes. I have no doubt. However, having a service dog makes each and every day a little easier.

It’s more than the skilled tasks they do, y’all! Milo retrieves dozen of items I drop each day. He is my alarm clock. He opens and closes the dishwasher, refrigerator, and gets clothes out of the dryer for me. He braces when I stand from a sitting position. He walks along side me and is only a touch away. Yet, the biggest benefit Milo brings to my life is psychological and emotional strength. Can I fight alone? Yes.

But I don’t have to do so.

Milo is with me 24/7. If I’m having a bad balance day, I go to work anyway knowing he’s got my back. If I’m dreading a large meeting, knowing in advance I will have trouble hearing, he provides the courage I need to do what needs to be done. I consider myself an advocate and “assumption destroyer”. However, Milo makes me a super hero. I think service dog partners forget those “under the radar” strengths our service dogs provide for us. On annual certification days, I am often reminded. Observing these teams and the trainers who coach/love them, brings these hidden benefits into startling clarity for me. We can count on other caring human beings to help and support us as needed. However, it is only a service dog partner that can be there ALWAYS.

I want to leave you with the lyrics and original video of “Fight Song”. I also am not ashamed to acknowledge that I found my own fight song with the support of a service dog. For me… it made the difference.

Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep
Everybody’s worried about me
In too deep
Say I’m in too deep (in too deep)
And it’s been two years I miss my home
But there’s a fire burning in my bones
Still believe
Yeah, I still believe

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

A lot of fight left in me

ORIGINAL VIDEO

L. Denise Portis