Recently I have been getting alot of questions about my disability, so I figured I would clarify what happened.
I was born with a spinal birth defect called spina bifida. More or less it means that my spinal column doesn't fully fuse at birth and part of the shord is exposed. It's caused by some sort of acid defficency... or something. Also it varies in severity, from being completely immoblie to not even noticing you have it. The higher up the spine the more damage, mine was in my 4th vertabrae, so not that bad, more or less just meant that I was rushed diretly to surgery, didn't even leave the hospital until I was 5 months old.
Ok, so i'm out of the hospital and everything is going good for the most part, learning how to talk, even learned how to walk (so beating the odds right there). Only problem is my legs are weakening, so it's time for another back surgery, this time I'm 3. I go in and... well this is where my hatred for doctors comes from. i'm on the table and they have my back open, what happens, I bleed to death. Yep, flatline, then they bring me back, only problem is I have a fever of god only knows how high, all i know is that it's high enough to fry some nerves. So more or less they sew me up and decide to do "damage assesment" when I am healed. That damage is the loss of ability to use anything below my knees.
Ok, fastforward to 18 years old, there is a really big transcript sitting on my bed. I look through it, it's the court proceedings from my malpractice case. One interesting section comes up, a little section mentioning the doctors stint in rehab for cocaine... less then a month before my surgery. I was his first surgery out of rehab, and he was showing signs of still being on it. So more or less all this over chemical joy.
Damage Assessment, I can't walk like everyone else. I use crutches for short distances and a wheelchair for long distances and when I feel lazy. Does this change who I am, no. I mean I felt sorry for the longest time, I fought with depression and a horrible self imagine for years. I thought I wasa freak and hideous. Then I realized something, I still am. I mean i could let my disability, someone else's fuck up dictate my life or I could go out and live it how I wanted to. So what if i can't walk, I have amazing friends, a great mind and as far I as I believe a great personality. This disability is a part of me, and I am done feeling sorry for myself, and I dont expect anyone else to feel sorry for me either, this is what I am, i can;t dchange it. All I can do is live with it, and that is exactly what I do.
I was born with a spinal birth defect called spina bifida. More or less it means that my spinal column doesn't fully fuse at birth and part of the shord is exposed. It's caused by some sort of acid defficency... or something. Also it varies in severity, from being completely immoblie to not even noticing you have it. The higher up the spine the more damage, mine was in my 4th vertabrae, so not that bad, more or less just meant that I was rushed diretly to surgery, didn't even leave the hospital until I was 5 months old.
Ok, so i'm out of the hospital and everything is going good for the most part, learning how to talk, even learned how to walk (so beating the odds right there). Only problem is my legs are weakening, so it's time for another back surgery, this time I'm 3. I go in and... well this is where my hatred for doctors comes from. i'm on the table and they have my back open, what happens, I bleed to death. Yep, flatline, then they bring me back, only problem is I have a fever of god only knows how high, all i know is that it's high enough to fry some nerves. So more or less they sew me up and decide to do "damage assesment" when I am healed. That damage is the loss of ability to use anything below my knees.
Ok, fastforward to 18 years old, there is a really big transcript sitting on my bed. I look through it, it's the court proceedings from my malpractice case. One interesting section comes up, a little section mentioning the doctors stint in rehab for cocaine... less then a month before my surgery. I was his first surgery out of rehab, and he was showing signs of still being on it. So more or less all this over chemical joy.
Damage Assessment, I can't walk like everyone else. I use crutches for short distances and a wheelchair for long distances and when I feel lazy. Does this change who I am, no. I mean I felt sorry for the longest time, I fought with depression and a horrible self imagine for years. I thought I wasa freak and hideous. Then I realized something, I still am. I mean i could let my disability, someone else's fuck up dictate my life or I could go out and live it how I wanted to. So what if i can't walk, I have amazing friends, a great mind and as far I as I believe a great personality. This disability is a part of me, and I am done feeling sorry for myself, and I dont expect anyone else to feel sorry for me either, this is what I am, i can;t dchange it. All I can do is live with it, and that is exactly what I do.
