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Disability Advocacy

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This past weekend we attended our friends sons’ birthday party where they had an amazing Wild Animals Educational show. My daughter, Savannah and the birthday boy, Kurt have been friends since they were little children. We have attended a few parties at his home and Maggie, Kurt’s mum throws the best birthday parties for him. When I told Savannah that we would be attending the party, she immediately inquired if there would be animals. She remembered that Maggie usually has an animal show for Kurt’s parties. This made Savannah a bit anxious because unlike Kurt, she does not like animals very much. The only animals she loves are our two Labradors.

Yes, that is a Tarantula on my hand. And yes, it is alive!

As a person with special needs, Savannah requires a fair amount of support in some situations and this time was no different. We had to  make sure that she was emotionally and mentally prepared before the party to cope with her anxiety and concerns. One way of doing this was to reassure her that there would be no pressure on her to engage with the animals. We discussed with her that her daddy would sit with her as far away as possible from where the animals would be. She was happy with this arrangement and began looking forward to the party.

On the day of the party, Savannah did not back out from joining us as she usually does and was excited and happy to attend. Kurt, Maggie, her family and friends are some of the nicest people we know and Michael and I were looking forward to being in their company. As expected the party was relaxed and easy for Savannah. She was also very happy to see Kurt. Before the animals arrived, she repeatedly confirmed with Michael that as agreed, he would sit with her away from the animals.

Savannah and I with Kurt and Maggie
Julian from the WILD ONES Educational Show arrived in his bakkie (South African word for a small pick-up vehicle) full of cages and containers. We watched Julian set up, and Michael and I with some trepidation watched Savannah, watching Julian set up. A few years ago at Kurt’s party, Savannah clung to me for the duration of the party and was miserable and cross because she was so mortified by the animals.

As an autistic person, Savannah’s perception of some situations is different. What might feel fun and exciting to us can be uncomfortable and frightening for Savannah. In order for the whole family to enjoy life together, Michael and I had to make peace with the fact that Savannah will always require some level of support in many situations. Fear is a debilitating emotion and we know that Savannah’s fears are real enough for her, and therefore warrants our respect and patience.

That was the mindset that we had at the party but to our surprise and delight, Savannah decided to join everyone in the area of the garden where the animal show was going to take place. Julian kicked off the show by introducing us to a tarantula. Yikes! I know. I never thought I would hold a spider nor one as scary as a tarantula. But Savannah was watching Michael and I with keen caution, and so I held out my hand and took the spider. Then I held a bearded dragon and a barn owl and the list goes on.
Eli let a Corn Snake coil around him as Savannah watched in amazement.
Then he coaxed her into touching a bunny which we named Peter Rabbit for her benefit. That was one of her favourite childhood books.
Michael who is by no means an animal lover delighted her by holding a tarantula and whistled to a Cockatiel, coaxing it away from my shoulder to his shoulder.
I struggled to fight back the tears when we met the barn owl. Some years back she was caught in a trap and had lost one leg. So she cannot fly and is fully dependent on Julian for her food. As a mother to a daughter who uses a wheelchair and a sister to a brother who is an amputee; that little owl represented the vulnerability and the tenacity that I saw in my daughter, in my brother and in Kurt. More than that, Julian’s care and commitment to this sweet bird spoke volumes about something all of us at the party understand but rarely see outside of our lives as families of people with disabilities.
That is the act of simply caring for one another. Not based on what we will gain or what we will lose, but only for the reason that we are human and we have compassion.
Often people look at Savannah or Kurt and they feel pity. Understandably so because they see themselves as having more abilities than our children do. Often we as families are judged from their limited viewpoint about what we are doing and what we are not doing for all our children. Here’s the thing though: We are here caring until forever. We are constantly finding delight in life no matter what fears and unknowns and awkwardness and frustrations we face. So the pity we get is actually misguided. It belongs to the rest of the world. While our lives take us to difficult places in our hearts:
  • we know what “unconditional” means.
  • we know what depths of love and care truly exists in the human spirit, and
  • we know just how shallow so many lives are because they have not yet learned to give without counting the loss or the gain.
We knew from the beginning that parenting would be a daily exercise of giving of ourselves. It would be letting go of fears and showing up for our children no matter how we were feeling.
What we learnt was that parenting a child who has special needs is sometimes about giving all of yourself. It is about conquering those fears every moment of every day and learning to live with passion and joy knowing full well that your worst fears for your child can become your reality.
We do not know when Savannah will be keen to attend another event so we soaked up the afternoon with Kurt, his family and those glorious animals. We were carefree and delighted as we held tarantulas and snakes. Now that is a great paradox for the life we live, isn’t it?
Being courageous even when our hearts are uncertain.
A very special “Thank You” to Kurt, Maggie, Kevin (Kurt’s dad), Gabriella (Kurt’s sister) and their extended family for being one of the bravest, nicest people we know.

The hardest transition when you are a parent to an adult with a disability is that your child no longer has the safety of the pediatric ward when they become ill.

In the pediatric ward, everyone is in the same boat: parents looking after their children. Now that Savannah is sick again, she has to be in the adult ward where there aren’t any other caregivers staying with loved ones. So I’m an alien here.

On the plus side though we automatically get a private room because I’m not allowed to stay with Savannah in a general ward. It’s cheaper and easier to have me around or else the ward has to employ an extra nurse just for the adult with special needs. The nurses are really nice to us. I think it’s weird for them that they have nothing to do for Savannah but make sure that I’m administering the medication correctly. Bathing, toileting, lifting and carrying is all on me because Savannah is so anxious and doesn’t want strangers touching her.

The downside is that it’s a scary place when other adult patients aren’t so nice and we hear the yelling and arguing with nurses.

There is also an elderly lady in a room down the hall with dementia and at night she screams out names every couple minutes. It’s a little frightening to hear but at the same time I feel for her and her family. Being a caregiver to my child is more natural… Not easy just natural. But it must be so tough for this lady’s adult children to cope with the emotional and medical chaos of their elderly parent while maintaining their own lives. I said before.. Sometimes I learn too much about life.

Savannah’s doctor has a reputation for being the good looking doctor. He is Greek so I guess that explains it according to the nurses. All the nurses swoon when he arrives. When they ask Savannah if she thinks he is handsome, Savannah replies with a deadpan expression “No”. The guy is about her father’s age and as she says “eeuw” ?

For some ungodly reason tea is served at 4:30am so I’ve been awake since then. I’ve already showered, bathed Savannah, administered her meds (the fight against the nurses injecting her is less stressful each time) and I’ve tried to entertain Savannah by taking selfies with her and reading Anne of Green Gables, until she is sick of me and turns to sleep.

Then I have my own care pack and entertainment pack with which to pass the hours of interminable waiting for Savannah to turn the corner.

If you know of someone who is a caregiver and you want to do something nice for them: Take a close look at the picture of the items that make up my care/survival pack. By providing one or two of the items or similar items to a caregiver, you can make a real difference to their physical and emotional health. A subscription to an online network or a contribution to their data bundle are other ways of helping that are meaningful too.

When I have ways of coping in these stressful, unusual situations.. I’m less of an alien.

I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and this post by ‘A Minor Bump in the Road’ caught my eye:

The Medical Mom.

 

It couldn’t have been more apt because I’m sitting in a hospital bed with Savannah curled up tightly next to me.

I had hoped that I would not be this mom. Twenty two years later I am the Medical Mom. I know things I wish I didn’t know.

I have mastered the art of patiently nodding as well meaning people (not professionals) share their medical diagnosis and solutions for Savannah. I have lost the energy to tell them why their typical solutions won’t work on my child. And as I listen and thank them for their advice and care, all the while I wonder why do I have to know all this.

This isn’t my life. I’m in the wrong life. Just now it’s going to be fixed and I won’t have to know all this medical stuff. But no! Apparently even if I’m in the wrong life… it is not going to be fixed.

My life is here holding this terrified, panic stricken adult as she fights against meds and nurses and me. I am that mom. This is my daughter and this is our fight!

Thank you ‘A Minor Bump in the Road’ for this post. It is so appreciated.

Today, as we celebrate Women’s Day in South Africa and my family celebrates our eldest daughter Savannah’s 22nd birthday, this guest post is a touching tribute to sisterhood, the value of relationships and love in its purest forms.  It was a great reminder to me about simply accepting life for what it is. About living in the moment and to appreciate that my daughters are much braver than I could have hoped for.

Talisa my second daughter wrote an essay for a school assessment. Yesterday when she received her score she was thrilled and as soon as I arrived home from work, she asked me to read it. I was blown away. Not only by my daughter’s writing but by the depth of her content and her bravery to share an emotional and personal story.

For Women’s Day 2018, I honour my daughters by sharing their story as written by Talisa Pillay: I Can Only Imagine.

“My worst fear is to be trapped. To be stuck with no way of escaping. To know that no matter how many times I try to break down the walls, I just end up being pushed down again: like an unwanted toy, shoved into the darkness of a cupboard. When my voice becomes one with the stale air around me.

My sullen thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a strange sound. I frown, creating creases on my forehead, as I try to riddle out where exactly the sound is coming from. I stride over to my window to hear if the sound is coming from outside. As I gaze out onto the brown, lifeless grass; I realise that the strange sound is music. It is not coming from outside but from the room next door.

A wide grin stretches across my face like the sun’s bright rays on the earth. I close my eyes and let the jumble of music dance in my ears and sail through my memories. It starts off with Whitney Houston’s ” My love is your love”, jumps to “Shake it off” by Taylor Swift, slides to Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal” and ends with a bang to “Desi Girl” a beloved Bollywood song.

I’m smiling now because not only do I know all the songs from the top of my head, but I also know who is playing the songs and why. Sometimes when words fail her, music is the only way of expressing her most inner, intimate feelings. Music is entwined with her soul. Marvelous isn’t she? My older sister Savannah, my Savannah. That’s who she is.

As I open my eyes back to reality, I turn to my ancient wooden desk and see my forgotten cup of tea begging to be drunk. I let my black leather chair engulf me as I sip my now iced tea. There is a bouquet of soft white, purple and pink flowers that I catch myself staring at as though I might spot an ant on the dainty petals.

Savannah picked them out for me. She’s honestly the most humble, thoughtful human on this wide wide planet. In all fairness she shouldn’t have to be. Do you know why? Because although she has a smile that will melt ice and a laugh that will drive away your misery and a brave, precious, enduring soul; she also has a body that works against her. Yes, she is a person with complex disabilities.

Please don’t pity her or shower with bland, meaningless “You are such an angel” or “You are a special girl” but pity us people who get so annoyed for not being able to understand her slurred speech when it’s not her fault. And through all of this she still loves unconditionally and gives when we don’t deserve it.

She is the real warrior in this upside down world. I don’t know how she does it and I guess I never will. As the last drop of tea knocks against my lips, all I know is that…..I can only imagine.”

Posted with the permission of Talisa Pillay and Savannah Pillay

Happy Women’s Day to WOMEN everywhere!

 

I have not written for my own blog for a while because so much was happening personally. Mostly I did not write because I was struggling to figure out how to deal with some painful insights I have learnt over the last six months. Do people care? What does it mean when people say “We know it’s hard’ and then have expectations of you that are adding to your “hard”? Or when they take it upon themselves to help you in ways that cause more damage than good.

I haven’t figured all of that out yet but I know it’s worth writing about because so many of us are making a life where the sun rarely shines. But we still need the warmth of the sun and to be showered with understanding and compassion so that we can continue to thrive just where we are.

Having the title of SuperMum is no blessing. It means you can’t have a bad day or you can’t sob uncontrollably on your kitchen floor or you can’t stay in bed all day wishing the wrongs will right itself. Being SuperMum means being lonely and that is not a healthy role model for our children.

To me being Supermum means being able to say you need “alone time” or “girl time” or being able to say…”It’s too much. I can’t do this anymore”. Ooohhhh, I said the unthinkable! Yes, Supermum means being human and allowing our children and our families to know that we all have limitations and boundaries.

Every curve ball that life throws at us need not be an opportunity to prove that we can do it all and be it all. It is an opportunity to say “Because I care about myself and the many roles I am, I am going to say No”. While I may still have to deal with certain curve balls like choosing between what is right for my daughter and what makes me happy; I don’t have to glam it up and make myself some kind of false hero for being mum.

There are far too many people who become heroes and saviours just because they are being kind and caring to their children or their spouses or their parents or people who are vulnerable.

I’m sorry. We don’t get hero status for supporting those who wear the body of vulnerability. They are the heroes.

When we are made to be larger than we are as caregivers, as foster families, as adoptive parents, as parents to children with disabilities, as spouses to a person with Alzheimers, and I’m guessing you get the idea here; we need to be vulnerable too. Living in exceptional circumstances means being given the opportunities to see both the magic and the tragedy of people living with bodies or minds that are different to us. It means for us as the witnesses to these extra-ordinary lives, we have to choose over and over and over again to live in the magic despite the darkness that is ever-present.

Simply put, in our (that is Michael and I) case and for so many other families like ours; being needed all the time, having someone else’s entire happiness, health and quality of life completely on our hands forever while knowing that often we have to make life altering decisions for them; and that the full impact and consequences of those decisions they will have to live through; is downright heart wrenching.

And no, it is not a lack of faith because in my case; it has been faith that has gotten me out of bed to do this over and over gain. It is not a lack of understanding; because in my case I have been both blessed and cursed to see wider, deeper and further than the issues at hand. Carrying a family through all that we have faced and continue to face while ensuring that all our children have space to grow and blossom in spite of living on the edge of the world; is no mean feat.

So why am I penning this deep and soulful post after so long? Since I’ve opened up about taking this year to “do me”; I have received unwarranted advice, been ripped apart by well-meaning people, my children have been given unsolicited advice about their future choices and the list goes on. I am proud that my children have a very close bond with both Michael and I.

However this does not protect them from people who pre-judge them because one of them has special needs. In fact Talisa and Eli even have a dark comedy routine about it. They mockingly joke about how people decide that they are neglected, how Savannah is our favourite, how to respond to people who ask really offensive and yes stupid questions like “how do you get on with your sister” or offer advice like “I think you don’t want that. You are just trying to make your mother happy”.

In the last few months I have cradled my children in my arms while they have wept when other people have confused and hurt them crossing the boundary into the territory that is only for Michael and I. So when my children are given unsolicited advice by people who know nothing about raising teenagers in a family with someone with special needs; they have no idea of the damage and havoc they wreak.

Or the effort it takes for me to like the world again every morning.

So here is the take away from this post:

*Don’t judge ever. It doesn’t matter what your credentials are or what your experiences are. Don’t judge.

*Do not ask children, yes even teenagers, questions about their parents, their siblings or themselves unless you have explicit permission from their parents to do so. If you are not the person who will stand by them forever, then you don’t get to do this. That includes relatives and family friends.

*Honour each other as parents. Being hip and cool to someone else’s child at the detriment of hurting that relationship is NOT hip and cool. Supporting each other as parents is vital to the overall health of our society.

*Just as babies require much tender, love and care; so too do teenagers. Their hearts and minds are very susceptible to hurt and confusion. Handle their confessions with care and their ideas with respect. It’s unhelpful to offer advice that makes them question their parent’s intentions. Just as the weight of responsibility of caring for babies falls on parents; so too does the weight of helping teenagers mature into adults.

*When you meet families who are doing the seemingly impossible, don’t point out to us what you believe are the potential hardships of our lives. Just because raising a family in unusual circumstances might be unimaginable to you; we are doing it all day everyday. This is our normal: thriving where the sun doesn’t always shine, amongst the boulders and the weeds…choosing to be magic every single day.

Contact me for a motivational talk about “Living My Best Life In My Never Ending Challenge”.

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