Special Saturday : Special Needs in my Life

Special Saturday is a great hashtag. It encourages everyone with whom Special Needs features in their lives, to write about it, status check it, tweet about it and link up in order to try and raise awareness of living with Special Needs. As you know I am always interested in any ways and means of raising awareness for this very reason (hence why I started The Disability Diaries) so I will be joining in this fantastic movement.


This week the wonderful Special Saturday prompt was to start your thoughts with

'Sharing my life with a person with Special Needs has...'

These are my thoughts:

Sharing my life with a person with Special Needs has rocked my world.  In a multitude of ways.

Firstly it rocked my world by oblitarating life as I knew it.  Kind of in the way that Superman hurls his enemies into space to float around in a timeless, impossible void.   I couldn't grasp the concept that my baby had suffered brain damage.  But there it was.  Quite literally in black and white on the scan.  A mark the size and shape of a thumb print on the left hand side of the brain.

Then my world was rocked back to shape by seeing the amazing miracles and achievements that my little boy was making everyday.  Will he walk?  No.  Will he sit?  No.  But he can tuck away a three course meal with pleasure and enjoyment and that is sadly something so many of the other wonderful Special Needs children we know can not do.  I learnt to be thankful for all the things he could do rather than resent all the things he couldn't.

Sometimes my world gets rocked and crushes me down.  Like today.  Whilst having a stretch out on his bed, from which he can see into the garden he said to me 'I can hear my brother, what is he doing?'  To which I replied 'He is on the trampoline.'.  He sighed and said 'I can hear him laughing.  He is having fun and giggling.  I can't do that.'  C.R.U.S.H.E.D.

Then there are days when my world rocks me into action.  I get up and think today I am going to get somewhere with XYZ equipment issue / person to chase / quote to get / charity to approach / school meeting.  I call and pester.  I email and leave messages.  I write letters and research things, until I feel I have made some small step forward. No matter how small it is.

There are also the days to recount when I have met some of the most wonderful people ever.  People who I really do not think I would have met had it not been for my son with Special Needs being in our life.  They are warm, loving, enthusiatic, friendly, open minded, strong and inspiring.  They are the teachers, teaching assistants, volunteers, helpers, carers, who help to look after my son when I am not there.  They are a special breed of human.  A wonderful one.  Their kindness rocks my world.

Sharing my life with someone with Special Needs has, I think made me a better person.  I used to be scared of and ignorant to disability.  I had never had any experiences with anyone who had disabilities or serious illness.  Now I understand that you smile and say hello and chat to that person in a wheelchair, or using crutches and the person standing by their side supporting them.  You chat to them as you would absolutely anyone else.  You don't look past them and make them invisible.  You ask about their disability and take an interest in that person. 

My sons Special Needs are great and varied.  They have caused issues to arise that I never would have dreamt would be something we would deal with under the umbrella of Cerebral Palsy.  But on the other side of the coin, his Special Needs have made our family closer, united, stronger.  Typically I would say we are a family who would usually take a backseat.  Just go with the flow.  Take what is said as what is right. 

You can not take that type of stand for your child with Special Needs.  You have to be strong.  You have to question.  You have to argue for what you think is right for your child and not just take the word of a professional, because chances are they will have only spent mere minutes (sometimes seconds) reviewing your child.  You know every inch of them.  You have to get your child the voice they can not yell with.

Sometimes I think I do a wonderful job, as a Special Needs mum.  Sometimes I think I do not fight hard enough for him.  We do not have every piece of equipment he probably needs.  We do not have some of the luxury items he could have to help enhance his life.  Sometimes it is hard, to get through everyday and on top of that find all the energy needed to do that extra fighting.  Other days it isn't hard.  Other days it is wonderful and I realise that sharing my life with a person with Special Needs has opened my eyes.

The Disability Diaries (The Life of J1) : We Just Don't Know?

We received J1's diagnosis (Diagnosis Day - Or Finding Out By Accident) when he was just over a year old.  I wasn't sure what to expect.  A flurry of activity through my post box started to occur, appointments for this, referral letters for that.  Most of the early appointments were investigative, to try and establish the extent of the damage that had happened to J1's brain.

Cerebral Palsy is massively wide and a broad spectrum in terms of consequences, but the long and short is it means 'Brain Damage'.  My son had suffered brain damage.  It has taken me years to be able to say those words; 'My son has Cerebral Palsy'; 'My son will never walk'; 'My son can't sit'.  When I first knew, I would sit on my sofa for hours taking a deep breath and attempt to say those words.  But they wouldn't come.  Only tears would materialise, as the words 'Brain Damage', 'Cerebral Palsy', 'Can't', 'Extent of the damage...' would roll around in my mind, confusing me, threatening to drown me in negativity.

I knew that I was going to have to learn to be able to say it, because I was going to have to tell people.  Work for example.  But even if I could get those words out, I knew that they would be followed up by questions.  Questions, questions, questions.  Questions that I did not have the answers too; 'How bad is it?', 'What effect will it have on him?', 'What have you got to do?'.  All perfectly predictable and reasonable questions but my answer could only be 'I don't know.'

And that was the answer that I came to hear a lot 'We just don't know.'  My questions were those that I was asked myself by others, yet I was only just in the stage of questioning the very same things.  In answer to 'How bad is it?' I was told post-MRI scan, that the damaged area was about the size of a thumb print, quite dark in colour and on the left hand side of the brain, the size and shape and colour indicated (although nothing is ever fully confirmed) that it most likely occurred during the last hour of the birth.  Really that is probably the most concrete information I have ever been able to glean.  The questions like 'What effect will it have on him?', 'What is the extent of the damage consequences?', 'Will he be able to eat / talk / walk / sit?' were all answered by blank expression of 'We'll just have to wait and see.'. 

The old saying 'Only Time Will Tell' became poignant in our lives.  As J1 was only just a year old it was difficult to even begin to comprehend what difficulties he may face.  We understood that it was looking unlikely that J1 would be mobile, he appeared to have absolutely no trunk / torso control, but you can't imagine the implications and challenges (over and above the 'He will need a wheelchair' and the obvious ones you hit, access etc) that we would find ourselves facing a few years on. 

However, because J1 was so young, to those who didn't know it was easy for them not too.  When we went out, he was small enough to still be transported in his normal baby car seat (reclined as far back as possible) and his buggy.  If we went places to eat I would take the Baby Bouncer to seat him in rather than be offered the use of a high chair.  In a way, it gave us a slower pace at which we had to come to terms with the diagnosis.

But of course children grow and it soon started to become clear that J1 was going to have massive physical disabilities, but by then we were into a routine of our new life, we did know that we could improve J1's head and neck control with lots of simple baby-friendly physiotherapy.  That we could start to work on re-training the messages from J1's brain to his arms to try and entice them out of the classic tight curled up position to encourage him to learn to grasp and hold things.

With baby-steps we entered the path of the unknown and learnt that you can still work on areas where you 'just don't know' if you can think positive and focus on can rather than can't.  Knowing and understanding the condition and accepting it was the first step to helping J1 to achieve the very best that he can.  It also meant that I had to start focusing on 'Occupational Therapy' that J1 would need rather than just 'Physiotherapy' and that would turn out to be one of the biggest battles of all.  Like most things for someone with disabilities as severe as J1's it would be an extra challenge, creating frustration and anger and needing a whole lot of strength to succeed.