Medical professionals are trained to work toward optimum results. I understand that. But I feel I never connected with a physical therapist who, for instance, would give me both the pros and cons of a particular path toward my development as an individual with lifelong cerebral palsy.
During my early years, I needed some practicality, some authenticity about how far I could progress physically. But, of course, no one knew. Perhaps that was too much to ask. After all, when I was born, doctors thought I had little chance of walking or talking or going to school. And no one wanted to say (and I didn’t either), “This is probably your limit.”
Just before I entered high school, I admitted to my grade-school physical therapist that I still didn’t feel confident crossing a street because I could not rely on my balance. I feared falling amid the traffic.
“No problem,” she replied. She promptly took a tape measure and measured the cross walk outside of our school building. “See, 16 feet. Practice walking that distance indoors unaided every day. You’ll get it.”
That was 1957. Today, I still can’t walk across a street without my crutches or my walker. And I still have nightmares of getting off a city bus without my crutches and standing on the street corner terrified because I don’t have the confidence to cross the street.
After four years of “hugging” the walls for balance in high school and pushing a grocery cart to gain balance and carry books between classes during my first two years in college, I finally bought myself a pair of Canadian crutches and learned how to use them – without the advice or consent of a physical therapist.
Over the years, I’ve also “graduated” from crutches to a walker and from a walker to a mobility scooter. So, now I have all three to use when and where each makes the most sense.
Living a life of vulnerability has given me unique opportunities to see how far I can go and match what I do with what I value. So, at age 80, I can say, “This is my authentic self.”
* When did you learn to act comfortably according to your values?
Even though I continue the personal values learning process, I've found that as I age I care much less about mistakes - verbal or physical. Life is so much easier.
Medical professionals are trained to work toward optimum results. I understand that. But I feel I never connected with a physical therapist who, for instance, would give me both the pros and cons of a particular path toward my development as an individual with lifelong cerebral palsy.
During my early years, I needed some practicality, some authenticity about how far I could progress physically. But, of course, no one knew. Perhaps that was too much to ask. After all, when I was born, doctors thought I had little chance of walking or talking or going to school. And no one wanted to say (and I didn’t either), “This is probably your limit.”
Just before I entered high school, I admitted to my grade-school physical therapist that I still didn’t feel confident crossing a street because I could not rely on my balance. I feared falling amid the traffic.
“No problem,” she replied. She promptly took a tape measure and measured the cross walk outside of our school building. “See, 16 feet. Practice walking that distance indoors unaided every day. You’ll get it.”
That was 1957. Today, I still can’t walk across a street without my crutches or my walker. And I still have nightmares of getting off a city bus without my crutches and standing on the street corner terrified because I don’t have the confidence to cross the street.
After four years of “hugging” the walls for balance in high school and pushing a grocery cart to gain balance and carry books between classes during my first two years in college, I finally bought myself a pair of Canadian crutches and learned how to use them – without the advice or consent of a physical therapist.
Over the years, I’ve also “graduated” from crutches to a walker and from a walker to a mobility scooter. So, now I have all three to use when and where each makes the most sense.
Living a life of vulnerability has given me unique opportunities to see how far I can go and match what I do with what I value. So, at age 80, I can say, “This is my authentic self.”
* When did you learn to act comfortably according to your values?
Even though I continue the personal values learning process, I've found that as I age I care much less about mistakes - verbal or physical. Life is so much easier.
Yes, I'll second that one.