Commitment, Disability Awareness & Advocacy, Life, Uncategorized

Adversity, Growing Pains & the Hope of a New Life

When your adult child with a disability “grows up”…. meaning they are no longer a minor child, life changes. Sometimes in a big way. Time marches on. Their needs change – in so many ways, it’s difficult to keep up with!

Along with that change, I’ve learned that the various “systems” that support them (and myself as a parent), are seriously and fundamentally lacking.

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. We as parents are getting older and we wonder, what’s going to happen to our children when we’re no longer around to either take care of them or advocate on their behalf? What will their lives be like, we wonder. Will they be deprived, neglected or abused? Will they be safe, healthy, happy and engaged and included within their community? These questions and thoughts keep me up at night – and truthfully have been with me every waking moment of his life, since birth. I know that I’m not alone, as a parent. Hello. Nice to meet you!

Suddenly life evolves, transcends or parts of that former life that existed in supports and services, simply deteriorate or disappear altogether in many areas – educational, social, mental, the physical, medical, financial, etc., (and not for the better, especially for those parents who have a child who is more severely or multiply-involved).

I’ve become overwhelmed lately in trying to figure out how best to prioritize and handle life on Max’s behalf – so it’s entirely about HIS life the way HE wants it. It’s quite frankly, daunting.

My brain literally wants to walk away and turn off – just for a little bit. Just long enough to re-charge and have quiet time to think this all through. Time is the problem here.

I’m so tired of repeating the same stories (his life story and various issues) over and over again to different people in different places, to get supports and services; to make what I consider to be necessary changes. Some people listen sympathetically. That’s good, right?

Well why do I have to keep telling the same story over and over? My God, it’s like Max and I live in an endless loop.

If I never had to talk to another person about his life (to get services/supports), and others did what they’re suppose to do, he would have a more meaningful, engaging and all-around better life, and hell, I’d have a life too. Peace might reign.

Well, that’s not going to happen where Max lives now. It sucks – unnecessarily so and it pisses me off. It doesn’t have to be that way and sometimes, I’m not nice. Too bad. Max is human and so am I. So…

Some good news in all of this, is that Max now has a remarkable, magical communication device based on eye-glance (Dynavox Tobii), and it’s being set up and programmed for him. It will be a life-journey, but I’m very happy for him to begin that. It’s hopeful that one day, he will be able to have his own voice in which he can speak his preferences, wants, needs, desires and dreams. This may be his ticket out of his current, sad living environment.

I can guarantee he NEVER would have gotten this device if I wasn’t the one that went after it. They would have still been just “looking at him looking” (no, I’m not kidding) and reaching for food or a drink, etc. But wait! I’m looking at them looking at Max. I see everything.

I imagine (too much and agonize over the fact) that there are many nonverbal people (with complex communication needs) out there who could communicate quite clearly what they want if they were given the opportunity, devices, training and patience to do so.

I have to fight for everything where Max lives now. Literally everything. He is living in a group home where no one responsible to support him, understands his emotional needs – those related to Self-Determination or community inclusion.

At his group home and local CMH, they continue to believe that ANYONE who is disabled, especially developmentally-disabled (no matter their age) is a “peer”, even if they’re old enough to be an aunt, uncle or grandparent. And there is absolutely NO opportunity or activities that put Max in touch with any non-disabled people in his age group. Slap my forehead.

They can’t comprehend his physical and medical needs, either current or in the future (there is no anticipation) of anything. They appear to not care at all. I don’t know if it’s out of ignorance or laziness or greed, because I have tried to educate them time and time again.

I constantly feel like I’m spinning my wheels, and while I’m talking to these people who could and should be making a difference, some aren’t listening at all or others have it down to nodding their heads sympathetically, while doing nothing.

Time, as we all know it, is running out for Max. He’s now existing in a very lonely, stagnant world. It’s bleak. It’s wrong. No one else locally or at the state or federal level is checking in. No one has reached out to me, ever. I have to do the reaching out and the follow up – consistently.

So am I wrong to feel at least a little bit upset by this betrayal of his very being? I think not.

He’s not in school anymore. He aged out at 26. In school they had lots of activities, including going out into the community. They’d take bottles back to the store for return, and go shopping for supplies for art projects. They’d volunteer and go to the Humane Society. They’d go out to eat at a restaurant. They’d work in their garden in the Spring/Summer.

They worked on academics and were given opportunities all the time to communicate in many different ways.

He’d be stretched out (given range of motion), and his leg braces would be put on according to the schedule that was set by the physical therapists. He’d be up in his sit-to-stand device – which would help to improve his digestion, circulation and bone density/strength. He’d be up standing tall. He had a teacher and staff who worked with him diligently, and cared about engaging him and working with him on fine-motor activities and communication. They’d notify me when his equipment had issues or something wasn’t going on right with him. If he was ill or if there was even a scratch. He doesn’t have that anymore. He doesn’t have the friends that he had at school either. Poof. Gone.

I’m not going to say that school was perfect. It wasn’t and I would even say that there was a certain amount of “seclusion” within the community at-large – but in a very rural community, this was most certainly better than sitting in front of a tv while laying in bed watching Paddington Bear for the 10th time (or staring out the window), while someone yelled they had to go to the bathroom – with the only hope of getting out during the week being those trips in the accessible van to the dentist or the doctor’s – or to the podiatrist to get your toe nails clipped and then running through the McDonald’s drive-thru.

There are some parents who understand exactly what I’m talking about and we’re “one” in that regard and not alone. We’re an unfortunate and sad “tribe”.

I understood, early on when Max was very young, about people who get “jobs” in the “social service” fields; those who do advocacy work. They go out and give presentations or do work shops, and help to represent children and adults with disabilities and their families. They advise. Sometimes they have children with a disability or disabilities – or maybe other family members. I learned that this can have its pros and cons.

As I’ve reached the age that I have, I’ve seen some “forget” what started them on that path. They become de-sensitized (I’m sure they’d argue against that – but eh, I’ve a right to my opinion).

Come on, let’s be honest. It happens. It’s called burn-out or “I stopped giving a fuck because everyone else stopped giving a fuck”. I refuse to buy into that bullshit. Don’t get me started on the lack of funding crap either. There ARE answers out there, if people are creative and innovative enough.

So instead of supporting and defending parents and families and individuals with disabilities, they take issue (offense) with any criticisms I have of the systems within which they work or about their associates?

That says a lot and it’s not good. When someone tries to make ME feel BAD for standing up for myself and my kid; for pointing out systemic breakdowns that hurt my kid, I take offense.

I’m hearing lately that everyone is “too busy”.

Sorry.

No, not sorry.

I care that those in a position (and who receive a salary) think it’s “okay” to use that excuse. That attitude directly affects my son’s quality of life and I’ll say it, his very life.

Cry me a river over the “too busy” bullshit. So suck it up buttercup. I’m not going away. I owe Max much better than that. I’m better than that. And they should be too.

This attitude has given me pause recently to re-think my position as Max’s parent, guardian and advocate, and how effective or ineffective I’ve been these past few years. And to think about EXACTLY what are the roadblocks in his life in getting him what he needs.

Do I need to change my “direction”? Do I need to re-assess which people or nonprofits, organizations, agencies, departments – either state or federal are worth my time or Max’s time in approaching? Am I wasting my time? Are there particular grass-root movements where Max would be better-served when it comes to my time and energy?

Obviously, changes need to happen. I believe that socially aware and involved people need to get together and have brainstorming sessions. We need to come together in making those changes. Everyone involved in the area of ALL the disabled. Too often, the most severely, multiply-disabled are left out of some very important discussions. Why? That should be obvious. They nor their parents or family can “make it” to the many meetings that happen at a distance from their homes, as they struggle to take care of their child or family member. They’re too busy just trying to survive.

Here’s one. How about instead of the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services/CMH’s hiring more fresh-out-of-college, inexperienced, incompetent social workers (who have absolutely no fucking idea of what’s suppose to be going on), they hire some activity directors to make those very much needed community connections (concentration on inclusion), into oh-my-god, meaningful and fun DAILY interactions? There. See? Was that so hard?

Start thinking outside the box people.

How about THROUGH the State of Michigan, MDHHS, the CMH’s, Intermediate School Systems, and other advocacy organizations, together, figure a way to REACH out to EVERY person with a disability and their family members – to make sure that THEY’RE meeting EVERYONE’S needs; to LISTEN; to really hear ideas, suggestions, comments? Btw, not everyone has or can afford to be connected via the internet or has a computer. Think that they can get to a library? Think again.

Thinking about HIPA and Privacy issues?

I’ll sign a release of information for them to contact me if that’s what it takes – you know, because privacy issues should continue to keep myself and Max (and others) in the dark and unsupported? Wow. Just wow. SMH.

Let’s do better…. as human beings. Be mindful. The sky’s the limit.

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Disability Awareness & Advocacy, Uncategorized

Down the Rabbit Hole – Lost, Dazed and Confused and yet…

Just when I think that I can’t take one more step forward, and that I’ve exhausted all avenues of escape for Max, there’s a glimmer of hope. When I say “escape” for Max, I’m talking about him having a good to great to excellent quality of life. That means to me his ability to “get out there” and have fun in the community, while he explores different areas of interest.

I’ve been in the trenches the past few weeks… or maybe more like in a fox hole, fighting with myself, while I fight with others.

EndhazomGurl

Why can’t they just do their fucking jobs? Ugh. It’s ridiculous.

More so, it’s insane that I have to FIGHT for what’s RIGHT. And I hate what this is doing to me as a human being. But more so, and this is THE most important thing – What it’s doing to Max.

I’ve been wavering, which is exactly the opposite of what I should be doing. But this is what happens along the way when you have a child/adult like Max, who is so disabled. It makes you weary and you have to take the time to re-coup.

It might “appear” (to others) that Max can’t do or communicate anything and therefore, nothing is expected. You know…. like…why don’t I just go away and STOP advocating for him? Why don’t I let the locals “be” to do basically nothing but warehouse him?

Is it because I’m a tenacious bitch? Or maybe I’m just here to make them do their jobs and make their lives miserable. Could be (kinda).

But no. I do what I do because it’s the RIGHT thing to do.

I’ve tried repeatedly to educate these people. For over three years I’ve brought up all kinds of issues. I’ve talked about his rights, the rules. I’ve been snarky. I’ve been nice. I’ve tried to come up with (reasonable) solutions and I get nothing in return.

I’ve tried with state advocacy organizations and apparently I or Max either live “outside” their jurisdiction or Max’s problems are not the type of problems that he can get support from them with.

But I keep moving forward, telling his story over and over again. I’ve tried to rectify his issues, while trying to keep the fires from raging to keep him from being burned.

And what was that about the “squeaky wheel gets the grease”. Sometimes, yes…. most times no – unless you find the right person.

I’ve now contacted his state representative, who sent me a HUGE packet of information to glean from. I LOVE searching through RULES and REGULATIONS and LAWS!!! To me that’s like the “key to the kingdom” of FREEDOM and LIBERTY for Max. It’s ammunition. It’s like being able to put that last puzzle piece into place and having a true work of amazing and beautiful art in front of me – created from all those little misshapen pieces.

I’ve been in contact with the Office of Recipient Rights, and there is an ongoing search for information (and hopefully a quiet investigation beginning? ).

And I’m still waiting to hear from another person at the state level when it comes to the question of Self-Determination and Max’s lack of that being offered.

I’m growing inpatient and I’m not sure at this point if the attention I’ve gotten (through email and phone) has really accomplished anything, other than temporarily placating me. We’ll see.

I thought it all was beginning to move forward….

And yet…. within the past 48 hours, the local DHS just tried to cut Max’s Health Benefits off. Can you believe it? For now, he’s safe.

I’ll write about that in my next post. What a shit show. Oh well, the ACLU is already in the county here, dealing with some other outlandish, discriminatory bullshit, so how convenient is that?

Off to war I go….

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Developmental Disability, Disability Awareness & Advocacy, Mental Health, Social Work, Uncategorized

Self-Determination: An Introduction

Max doesn’t have Self-Determination in his life. His life is extremely limited. He is not given opportunities to make choices. It’s a same-day, same-shit kind of existence.

Max has a CMH “support coordinator” (they go by other names too….case manager, CMH worker, etc.), but there is no coordination of the supports that he should be receiving to be self-determined.

County CMHs (under the auspices of the Behavioral Health and Developmental Disabilities Administration- Michigan Department of Health and Human Services) are suppose to be a “system” that supports self-determination. They don’t. Go ahead, ask anyone who has an child/adult (especially one that is severely, multiply-disabled) in this “system”, how it works for them. There are some real human, real life problems out there, and the people that could make a difference, are doing nothing. They seem to have a lot of “meetings” and there’s no action. There’s no trickle-down effect. There’s no meaningful reaching out to stakeholders (individuals/families). They really don’t “do” self-determination. At least not without a fight from individuals and families. It’s exhausting.

Locally, several years ago, it WAS getting better. They were going in the right direction, and than people started to retire and “new” and younger people (social workers) came on-board at the CMH here.

They were inexperienced. They had absolutely no idea what they should be doing for those that they were suppose to be working for and on behalf of. They still don’t. They were not and did not want to become familiar with the uniqueness of those that they “support coordinated” for. They didn’t want to educate themselves any further as they progressed in their “careers”. They either never cared, in the first place, when they went into this particular field (human services) – or they were and are just lazy. Maybe “Social Work” sounded kind of good and easy, and something that they could learn all about in college, and BAM! off they went and they got paid to do whatever they were told to do (indoctrinated), forgetting WHY they were in the position that they were in. Forgetting or intentional, it’s all the same. It’s wrong on such a fundamental human level.

I take great offense when it comes to those who have such control over the lives of others – their very quality of lives; their comfort and safety; their happiness – and blow it off.

I’ve seen Max ignored totally between annual Individual Plan of Service meetings (IPOS). If I never said anything; if I never addressed any problems or issues, there would be NO communication at all. I absolutely hate the group-home mentality. Even if a person has no family or friends checking in on them, they have a right – yes a RIGHT to be treated with kindness and dignity and care.

They (CMH’s) KNOW about self-determination and they’re suppose to support that in the mental health system – as Max is someone with a developmental disability – but per usual, he’s even worse off than others, as someone that is nonverbal (has complex communication needs) and non-ambulatory, living in an antiquated living environment that still thinks of itself as providing the basics of what he needs to survive (be warehoused) and that all they have to do. The bare minimum.

That’s SO wrong.

I’m sure that this topic will come up again down the road, because I am trying to make positive changes on Max’s behalf, even as I see things worsening.

I’d really like to hear from other individuals and families; guardians and caretakers, care providers.

I know that the problem is wide-spread.

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Developmental Disability, Disability Awareness & Advocacy, Uncategorized

A Child is Born – Part Two

The Neverending Story – The Nothing

This next post has to do with the reason that I decided to start a blog – and why I choose (at this point), to be anonymous. I may not always write well, but it’s still important to write – and put the truth out there for others to read. I hope that this might lead others to make a difference in their own communities – wherever that might be. Together, even one person at a time, we can right the wrongs in the world.

My son lives in Purgatory.

He’s neither here nor there when it comes to a good quality of life. It hasn’t been for my lack of trying to make it better. After all these years, I’ve hit a brick wall. It’s a wall of nothingness and nowhere. It’s impenetrable and feels like a presence; a thing that exists that seems physical – that I can’t see my way around. It’s a wall of apathy that appears to be growing day-by-day.

My son, who lives (I’ll say it again) in a group home, was medically neglected last year, and because of what didn’t happen is the reason that I felt that it was necessary to tell HIS story, which I believe is the story of many people. I know that this happens, every day, to many people in the United States and most certainly out there in the world. It’s happening at this very second.

I’ll add to that, the fact that no one in my morally and ethically irresponsible, backwards county even tries to understand that ALL people, even the most-involved – whether physically or developmentally-disabled – have the same feelings as ALL people do. Or if they somehow (in the deep recesses of their minds) know this on any kind of level – they don’t recognize the inherent right of each individual to be treated with kindness and respect – that is not based on some kind of monetary valuation. It shouldn’t “cost” to be considered a valuable human being. Every human being is valuable.

Max is a young man that lives with a small group of people who are old enough to be his grandparents and yet… taking a trip to Walmart or going through McDonald’s drive-thru is considered a “community outing” and he lives in a college town! There is a lot more to do here, but no one has any vision. No one cares and there is such a lack of creativity that it stymies and infuriates me. WTF?!

I could go on and on. Here, everyone in power, has that old-style, group home mentality thing going on. It’s miserable. It’s 2019. Not the 1970’s. Unfortunately, it does matter where you live. It matters which state you live in. It matters what county you live in. It matters what your base beliefs are and it matters what kind of people live in your community, as in are they good people who care or are they selfish and apathetic? And so what happens to many, many people in the United States (and I’m sure in other countries in the world… but I’m waiting to hear from others so I can include their personal stories in this blog)?

Warehousing. That’s what happens.

Those who are severely, multiply disabled and nonverbal – and have no way to communicate their wants, needs or desires in an “understandable” way to others who are not disabled, exist in a vacuum. They live in a kind of limbo-land. This includes the elderly who are developmentally-disabled and live in group homes. It happens in nursing homes. I’ve seen it up front, real and in-your-face.

This is the only place on this blog where I will write specifically about what happened. I have relayed the course of events to everybody that I know and all of those who are involved in Max’s life. This includes many advocacy groups/organizations at the state-level. This has led me to the horrendous realization that these are most certainly not in place to help individuals or their families. They’re more like money-raisers FOR the people that work there.

Back to Max.

Max had skin breakdown in the coccyx area. In the past, the plan had always been for him to have complete bed rest until healed – with of course scheduled range of motion and repositioning every 2 hours. Skilled nursing was called in by order of his primary care physician (PCP). The nurse, following dr’s orders, wrote in the notes that he was only to be out of bed for meals.

Almost a MONTH later she learned, and then I learned (after she notified me on the same day that she found out), that he was up and all over the group home, sitting up in his wheelchair, and out in the community going places – when he was only suppose to be out of bed for meals. What were they thinking? Why did this happen – especially considering what had been protocol for his care in the past?

After the nurse called me, I immediately called his PCP – who was out of the office on vacation. I spoke to a nurse practitioner (NP) – who was covering for the PCP. I explained what I had just discovered and we consulted.

It was agreed that the order would be faxed to the group home, that stated Max was to have “complete bed rest until healed” – and this was done. I have in my pile of documentation, a copy of this ONE page fax.

Probably within an hour of this, I received a phone call from a representative of the group home (contracted by the local CMH) telling me that Max would NOT be eating or drinking in bed.

So they willfully went against doctor’s orders and THEN got him up just for meals.

The nurse was lied to when she was told that they (the company that owned the group home) had a “written policy” that residents were not to eat or drink in bed, as this was reasoned as a choking hazard.

The nurse asked for this written policy. This was never given over because one didn’t exist. Of note, Max has a hospital-style bed where the head rises; the knees rise – either together or separate and the entire bed goes up and down! Many people are fed in bed and given drinks… you know…. like people in hospitals who are ordered to bedrest. What it REALLY came down to is that there weren’t enough staff for someone to sit or stand there to watch him after he ate – to make sure that he didn’t aspirate or vomit (reflux) for 15 minutes to ½ an hour. Not enough staff….not enough staff…. and this is how it goes in group homes across the nation. Number one reason – the pay sucks and the companies who own the group homes suck even bigger.

Max was harmed. The damage was already done. During the time that Max has lived in this group home, he’s lost a huge amount of weight. No one knows why at this point. He eats and he eats well. It’s still a mystery to be solved, but the seriousness of this grew when the medical neglect happened.

Because doctor’s orders weren’t followed, Max lost even more weight that he couldn’t afford to lose – from muscle atrophy. This has also exposed him to increased risk of worsening skin breakdown in the future. He no longer has a “butt” or the padding that goes with it! It took over a month from the time this began until it finally ended in healing …. because they never followed doctor’s from the beginning. If they would have followed what “worked”, and kept him in bed until healed, he would have probably been totally healed in 3 days (historically).

I filed a recipient rights complaint against the group home. I would like to note that my intent was that the complaint was suppose to include the local CMH, because THEY are the ones that contracted with this home to provide care for my son. Therefore, it has always been my opinion that they were just as responsible (culpable) when it comes to the care he receives… or not. The buck stops there. But THEY bowed out and didn’t do what they were in place to do. His CMH worker (as a titled social worker) was by definition a mandated reporter. She didn’t do her job. She did not protect Max. But within this system is a “I’ll scratch your back, you scratch my back” agreement. It happens in the court system as well. It happens in politics all the time. It seems to be the way-of-the-world.

So over the next SIX MONTHS I went through the process of denial at the local level (they said no wrong-doing) through the local CMH. Then I filed an appeal of this at the local level (again CMH), which led to another denial by the CMH’s appeals committee (was I really surprised?).

The next step was to file an appeal at the state-level, which was also denied.

Of note, I contacted Adult Protective Services (APS) once I discovered what happened and the resulting damage that not following orders caused Max. Ultimately the county APS investigator refused to take additional information and pictures from me – that further demonstrated the medical neglect. He said that he “had all that he needed and he had interviewed everyone”. He interviewed staff – who were afraid for their jobs. I live in the real-world and yes it happens. People lie; don’t tell the whole truth, etc. And it HURTS the vulnerable and it makes the world a miserable place. The struggle is real.

I was shocked when he told me this. I sat there mortified. I had just been confronted with actual corruption within a broken system! My eyes were finally open.

After I filed a complaint at the state-level (DHHS), I received a letter from them acknowledging receipt of my complaint, with the statement that they would get all information regarding this from the local CMH and they would either uphold the original decision (which was a denial) or refer it back to the local CMH for further consideration and investigation.

Now WHY would this be referred back to the CMH that denied it in the first place?

Well…. because it’s written into our state’s Mental Health Code.

How’s that for fucked up?

Max never had a chance. The deck was and is still stacked against him and others.

I contacted three different attorneys. None would take on this case. Want to know why? Because it wasn’t worth it to them. Period. Max didn’t die. Max healed. Max wasn’t permanently (further) maimed, disfigured or harmed (I could argue that). The harm wasn’t ongoing (I could argue this too – he ended up in Physical Therapy that I initiated on his behalf). It wasn’t worth their time and they wouldn’t let me explain anything further past their “intake interviews”. And I am poor. In fact I am below the poverty-level on SSI/Social Security.

The next step after denial at the state-level would have been to take it into court. I couldn’t afford to do that and none of the advocacy organizations that were suppose to be in place to help people with disabilities and their families would take this on. This is the world that we live in now.

But I’m not giving up.

I DO believe that it’s important for those reading this blog to see the TRUTH.

When I’m able, I will add blacked-out documents to this post, because it’s really happening, and I know that it’s happening to others – especially to others who have no one speaking for them or advocating for them.

And after all, this is …

The Underground Advocate!

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Disability Awareness & Advocacy, Uncategorized

A Child is Born – Part One

It’s been many years of constant love and trying to do the right thing; always struggling with the powers that be … and thinking that others who were supposed to be in place to help, were also on that same page. Sometimes (okay rarely) I was right – but more times, very wrong

The unfortunate truth, in being the parent or guardian or advocate for a child/adult (or for an individual with a disability), is that this has always been basically a flip of the coin. My real-life experiences have been long and many.

I have learned that laws, regulations, policies and guidelines sometimes mean something and sometimes mean nothing at all. It all depends on the commitment of others. It depends on who the doctor or specialist is and “their staff”. Sometimes their staff drop the ball, are rude don’t follow through or just don’t get it – and it doesn’t matter because they get paid anyway.

It depends on the special education system, whether teachers, therapists (Physical, Occupational Therapists and Speech Language Pathologists). And then there is the supervisors and administrators. You can have the best teachers and school therapists and if administration doesn’t support them to support your child, well…. much is lost if not entirely.

And we have next those at the county-level, namely community mental health, under the state auspices of control (control of funding and budgets), who are mostly social workers with a bachelor’s degree who come out of college not knowing anything on a moral or practical level. Forget any need to hone your craft or go beyond what they “learned in college”. I term them as “the gatekeepers”, who say “no” on a regular basis… because they choose to remain disengaged, ignorant or lazy.

They’re more involved in appeasing “the state” when it comes to how the money is spent…. or not spent.

I think that when these young and inexperienced social workers, when they start to work on behalf of others “less fortunate”, are too often taught (assimilated into a kind of “collective”) that it’s all about the money … as in don’t spend the money. So no wonder that there is a desensitization-process and a disconnection between what they should do and could do on behalf of people with disabilities – and then it’s a given, that those who are hurt the most are the most-vulnerable. That minority are those who are severely-multiply disabled.

I’ve heard just about every reason for “no”. They like to say they have a “lack of resources”; “We don’t have resources for that….”. We don’t have to “provide that support or service” because it’s “not written in a policy manual”. Or they outright ignore repeated attempts by parents, guardians, individuals to change the system, who are trying their best to get it to work for their person.

Why yes, “they” (those who are disabled) are PEOPLE. People are human beings. (I felt the need to clarify that one!)

First there were the medical issues and meeting those needs in keeping Max alive. He was a preemie, like many, many other babies before and after him. He was tiny and precious and okay, oh-so-cute – and my child with a precarious and unknown future.

I was actually afraid to love him in the beginning! I had been told by a neonatologist that an infant born as early as Max, was certainly at the highest risk of developing some huge problem with some major organ or system in his tiny body. Isn’t that the saddest thing ever? Being afraid to love your child? To become attached? Awful!

What to do? What should I know? I had never had a child with severe, multiple disabilities as his. I decided I would be brave and I knew that I loved him no matter what, and I knew that I would do whatever I had to, to protect him – against all odds. It’s been that way ever since.

This little guy came home on an apnea monitor, medication around-the-clock to keep his heart rate up. He was on oxygen. Very scary times. Absolute anxiety and this desperate feeling churned inside of me. What was this awful emotion? It was stress rolled up into a ball of fight or flight. I remember bathing him for the first time in the NICU, knowing as family members watched, that I had to look confident so that they wouldn’t be scared. I had to be brave for Max’s sake.

He couldn’t come home until everyone in the family learned how to do infant CPR. And then there was the throwing up and every little ounce of formula that he’d drink was mostly coming back up. It was a huge struggle….

His life, his quality of life, has always been a struggle and very frustrating when people have not cared to do their jobs. I mean, why go into jobs (or fields related to the human condition) that require you to be resourceful, kind, patient, persistent and strong? These types of jobs aren’t careers, also in my opinion, but should be termed as a “calling”.

So I jump forward, many years into the future and he’s grown up into a handsome young man with a brilliant smile; with eyes that (must) express his both funny and serious soul. And what is life like now?

END OF PART ONE

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