"No money...just please, pray for me"

Jodie's birthday is coming up soon.  Yes, she will once again be the "older woman."

Her list of birthday wants is short.  One is this side bag for her power chair - one of the velcro straps tore off the bag and needed to be sewn back on.  It had been sitting on the dresser for a long time.  Jodie wanted to take it to a seamstress shop she knew about in downtown Gresham.

I decided to take it down to the shop and see what they could do.

I parked the bus around the corner, took out my walker and walked a couple blocks to the shop.  With our bus, I prefer to park further away and have more room to pull out than to park in a closer but tighter spot.

I was winded by the time I got to the shop.  The door was propped open.  An older lady was leaving as I walked in.  The seamstress had me sit down and she asked me what I needed.

I pulled out the side bag and showed her where the strap was coming off the bag.  I explained that I could leave the bag and pick it up another day...that it was not a rush job.

The seamstress said she had black thread in here sewing machine and that it would not take long for her to fix it.  Sure enough, she took it back behind the partial wall and had it all sewn up in very quick time.

She came back out with the bag and tried to put it on my walker.  I said  "No," and I took that bag.  Me being winded, with my cerebral palsy, and she had an accents - it  made communication tricky.

I offered to pay her.  I really wanted to pay her, because even though it did not take her long, I realize shops like hers are struggling.

She told me, "No money...just please, pray for me."

Her request did not seem flippant to me.  I sensed there was a real need to pray for.

As I walked back to our bus, I felt determined to keep that seamstress in my prayers.

I know that blessings will come to her.

My greatest discomfort - total brain freeze

No, it's not the back or neck pain that I occasionally feel that causes my greatest discomfort.

Yesterday I drove down to Salem, walked into an unfamiliar office, walked up to the front desk and said, "Hi, I'm here for and interview."

The guy at the front desk handed me a sheet with the interview questions on it.

The first question is the shortest, but I am stymied by it. I skip it an go to the other questions.  I figure out answers to them.  I go back to the first question and I still cannot think of a good answer.

My greatest discomfort - total brain freeze.  Writing and editing words is a gift I have; thinking quick and finding the right words to say is not.

The supervisor came and got me.  She led me to the star chamber.  Four other people we waiting for me. The supervisor said that I could read the questions myself or have them read to me.  I asked to have them read to me; gives me more time to think.

The questions are read and I start to talk.   Words are coming from my mouth, but I cannot tell if the questions are being answered.  I  don't know if the train is on the track or off the track.

"Why am I so darn spacey?"  I wonder.  Is it my cerebral palsy?  Is it my type B personality?  Is it just my overall spaciness?  I don't know.

The supervisor walks me out.  She is chatting with me and made me feel comfortable.

I get back to my van.  I start beating myself up for being so darn spacey.  Why do I do this to myself?  Before I deliver the fatal blow to my ego, another thought pops into my brain - whether or not I get the position, they saw the real me.

And that, my friend, is a good interview.

To fail or to succeed...

I worry to much...ask anyone who knows me.

I love quotes.  Among my favorite:

Thomas Edison: "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."

Helen Keller: "“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”

Oh, and Uncle Ed (I need to paraphrase this one): "You set your eyes on a goal. You end up somewhere else. One day you realize that where you have ended up isn't that bad after all."

All this I share as I give birth to a new website.

My idea is that everyone has a story to tell, and a blog is a great place to tell it.  WordPress is a wonderful blogging and website cms (content management system).  I have found a great local company to host my websites.  The owner, Scott Hendison, use to coach my son's baseball team several years ago.  If I get into technical trouble, I know who I am working with...I am not on my own to flounder.

With givemeastory.com, I am offering people a chance to blog without committing to their own blog.  I think it would be neat to see a totally eclectic blog...different authors, different ideas.

I also want to offer to set up and host WordPress blogs or websites for people.  As an extra service, I want to offer up my writing and editing skills to help people write and/or edit their own blogs.  I am thinking there are people who want to have a quality web presence, but who need help to make it a reality.

Will I succeed or will I fail?

Wrong question, Uncle Ed would say.  I will end up somewhere, and it won't be that bad of place.

A little pot for my pain?

Yesterday I had just left the doctor's office and I was headed to our van.  No disabled spots had been available, so I parked on the far end of the lot to give me more backup room for my big rig.

I was walking down the long breezeway with my walker, doing my wild man walk.

A woman walked up and gave me her card.  Happens all the time, what can I say.

"Do you smoke?"

"Uh...no."  I didn't tell her about the Swisher Sweets I use to smoke with Dan up on the forest roads in our college days.

She gave me a card that says: "Medical Cannabis Community OMMP Resource Center".  It also has a website: www.nationalgreenfriends.com.

She proceeded to tell me the virtues of medical marijuana, that it would really help me, but that doctors would not tell me that.

I think medical marijuana is fine for people in pain.  Bad pain can destroy your disposition.  If a little pot helps, where's the harm.

Marijuana for me?  I wondered if she thought it would help with my wild man walk?  Even if I were at home with no where to go I would be afraid to use it because when I had to walk somewhere, like the bathroom, I might be too stoned to safely get there.

Plus, the woman has not seen what one beer does to me.

Anyway, it made me laugh.

What is God's view of disability?

Ridiculous question, I know.  God loves everyone.  His forgiveness is available to all of us.  None of us is lesser or greater in His eyes.  The intellectual side of me knows all this.

Sometimes though, in the midst of struggle, in the darkness when I feel weak, I wonder "why am I disabled?  Why do I need to deal with this?"

The stories of the healings that Jesus performed in the Gospels have always inspired me and bothered me.  I am inspired by the hope that at anytime Jesus could speak a word and heal me.  I am bothered by the thought "Why doesn't he heal me?"

WHEELIE cATHOLIC: Scripture reflection on disability

Wheelie found this treasure of a reflection  on disability in Scripture.

I am not inferior because I am disabled.  I am not lacking because I am disabled.  Whether or not I am "whole" is not dependent on my disability being miraculously stripped away.

Rather, disability is  part of my identity, part of who I am.  No different than black, white, male or female...it's a key part of who I am.

I agree with Wheelie:

"I love the ending where it notes that the paralytic and his friends were never seeking healing, but a means of access to join the crowd and hear Jesus preach."

I need from God the same thing you need from God - His love, His grace, His mercy, His salvation.

I need from God what you need from God - no more, no less.

The greatest birthday conspiracy of all

I turned 48 the other day. Dang old - you got that right!

Jethro Tull put it so well - "Too old to Rock 'n' Roll, Too young to die".

Middle age blues, maybe, but I am not depressed.  The good Lord puts us all here for a purpose...I just want to make sure that I do everything I can to fulfill that purpose.

You get to a certain age and the end starts to come in sight.  The question "Have I done all that I'm supposed to do" starts to gnaw at you.

Jodie and Eric took this big box of writings from my college days.  My dear mother-in-law took my writings and, with the help of Eric, sister-in-law Denise, and nephew Vance, made a huge two volume set of scrapbooks of my writings.

In the mid '80s I was a feature writer for The Daily Barometer, the student newspaper for Oregon State University.  I was also a copy editor.  My favorite job was that of columnist.

I only got $7 a column.  It came out weekly and it was called "Witticisms".  The money kept me supplied with Pepsi and cookies, but the real payoff was that I had a voice.  I learned that in order to make people laugh, you need to make them  feel.  Make them laugh, make them cry, make them mad.  We all have preconceived notions about everything.  The easiest way around that is through a person's heart.

As I thumb through the scrapbooks, I am amazed.  I wrote a lot of stuff!

"Kerr legend appears to be a little more of a myth."  The namesake of OSU's library was not a crook, but as a president of the early Oregon Agricultural College, he bent rules as far as he could without breaking them.  Anyway, this was my first story that made the front page of  The Barometer.  That  was a big deal in the day.

My columns. Wow!  I wrote a lot of sappy stuff!  I wrote a lot about how being weird, going against the norm, is okay. I wrote many columns about My Buddy (myself) with a disability dealing with every day challenges.  I will need to figure out how to share some of these columns with you.

There are also many issues of "In Pursuit", a newsletter I edited for the Campus Ambassadors group I was involved in.  We had writers, and a great cartoonist who was in high school.  We worked hard and produced a pretty slick newsletter with the goal of getting people thinking about God.

The greatest thing about these scrapbooks is that it has my juices flowing again.  I was a prolific writer in my college days - some of it good, some of it bad, but some of it great.

The great birthday conspiracy has me believing I can get back there.

Jethro Tull was wrong.  I am not too old for rock 'n roll...and I am way to young to die!

Walk...Walk...Walk...Crash!

I drove to downtown Portland today to have lunch with Sam.  We were roommates at Varsity House down in Corvallis 29 years ago.  We meet up downtown for lunch twice a year, around our birthdays, to catch up with each other with what is happening with our families, our jobs, and, my favorite...politics.

I usually pick Sam up and we drive down Barbur and pick a restaurant.

Today I  was early.  I kept driving around Sam's office at the Oregonian Building.   I don't like just driving around downtown, so I finally found a place to park about a block from where I meet Sam.

I pulled in behind a car and parked, and a car pulled behind me and parked.  With our massive van, I felt boxed in.  I got my walker out and walked down to meet Sam.  We walked about 3 or 4 blocks down to McDonald's.

Going all that way on a walker is a chore.  Much of the challenge was navigating the curb some are really steep and some are more like a mini step.

After lunch, after I said goodbye to Sam at his office, I was crossing Columbia at Broadway on the East side of the intersection.

I was watching the sign: Walk...Walk...Walk...Don't Walk.  My walker hit the curb cut.  My walker tipped forward and I landed on top of the walker.  My shin hit the bar pretty hard.  I  was so embarrassed!   I was hurting a bit, but I moved as fast as I could to get up.  I did not want anyone to stop to help me.  There was a line of cars going by.  I was thinking, "Please, nobody stop."

Nobody stopped.  I struggled and I got up.

There are good curb cuts downtown and bad ones.  But why so random?

I know, there is not enough money to fix all the curb cuts downtown.  But the City of Portland needs to acknowledge that real danger exists for the disabled downtown as long as that investment is not made.

A champion's heart is not always rewarded...

...but sometimes it is:

Special needs teen sinks varsity 3-pointer | kgw.com Portland

Cerebral palsy - birth complications or genetic?

Jodie and I both have cerebral palsy...in case you have not figured that one yet.

Jodie was a premie, weighing less than two pounds. I had always thought that my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, cutting off oxygen to my brain. Mom told me last week that was not true, though there was reason to think that some oxygen had been cut to my brain at birth.

Cerebral palsy has always been thought to have been caused by some complication at birth, until now. Last week it was reported that most cases of cerebral palsy may have genetic causes, just like other developmental disabilities.

It is not hard to see why people would believe the complications at birth theory.  Birthing is such a complicated miraculous process - there  is always room to say this or that could have happened to cause cerebral palsy.

According to Medscape, the rate of cerebral palsy has remained the same in the last 40 years.  You would think that with the vast advances in medicine over that time,  that the rate of cerebral palsy would have gone down under the complications-at-birth theory.

When Jodie was pregnant in 1995, we checked with her doctor to see if we had an increased chance of having a baby with cerebral palsy.  Under the prevailing thought the cerebral palsy was not genetic, the doctor assured us that the answer was "no."

Today,  the answer to that question might be different.

Sad day for Peek users

You probably don't know what a Peek is, and therein lies the problem. Mine stopped working two days ago. I sent an email to customer care.

Peek axes first-gen emailer service in favor of cloud - SlashGear

A Peek is a pocket-sized gadget with a full keyboard that handles email and text. I used it mostly for texting my son, Eric, and to read hourly email summaries of my tweets.

I paid monthly for my service, though they offered lifetime service for around $250. I was tempted to buy the lifetime service, though I never really expected that it would last a true lifetime.

Dear Peek user,

Since we launched Peek in September 2008, we received amazing accolades for the product and the support of many, many Peeksters like you.

Since 2010 the business has been taking off in a direction that moved us away from these devices -- putting our cloud platform and software to work bringing smart apps to simple devices made by other mobile phone makers.

We have been winding down the US service since late 2010, and at the end of 2011 this email address was connected to one of a few Peek devices still operating in the US. At the end of January, this last batch of devices was decommissioned.

I'm sorry to report that this

As our Peek cloud powers increasing millions of devices around the world, we hope you'll find yourself using our apps for services like mail, chat, picture sharing, and cloud backup. Indeed, we were just honored by the global mobile industry association with a prestigious Best Technology award nomination. You can read more about this and where we are heading at http://peek.ly/blog

All the best,
Amol
Peekster-in-Chief

I am surprised that I was not warned of Peek service ending. I have a cellphone that I can text with, but with the telephone style keyboard I have a hard time texting with it. I have not decided whether to upgrade to a smartphone. I can't really do that until December when my current contract is up.

II wish that T-mobile, the carrier that handled the Peek email service, could offer us dumped Peek users. T-mobile is also my cellphone carrier, but I know if I went into the store and tried to explain this to them they would not have a clue what I was talking about.

Now Peek invites us to use their app for cloud services? I don't think so!

Thank you bud!

We were up at the hospital today.  We feared that a "funny feeling" Ma2 had could have been a bad thing.  Everything turned out fine.  We all went to her house afterward to rejoice.  We shared the birthday cake that she made yesterday.  Life's little scares have a way of redirecting our attention to the important stuff.

I didn't know if I was going to be able to leave the hospital.   I got myself stuck.

When Jodie and I got to the hospital, I dropped Jodie off by the front door.  I went to look for a disabled parking spot.  There was none available in that lot.  I  saw a car pull out of a regular parking spot, so I pulled our oversized van into that spot.  The thought crossed my mind that pulling out was not going to be fun.

When it came to leave, I climbed the hill with my walker.  I got some funny looks.  It was a pretty steep hill.  I put my walker in the van.

I backed out, then pulled up over to the left.  I needed room on the right to swing out.  I have a backup camera, but I have trouble telling how close the back corner of the van is to the cars in back when I am trying to turn out.

This guy was waiting for my spot.  I kept pulling forward and back to try to give myself enough room to swing out.  The guy waiting for my spot gave up and drove on.  He came back around and figured  out what I was doing.  I looked at him and he started to give me hand motions to show me how far I could back up.

Now, I know the guy helped me because  he wanted my parking spot, but he really saved my bacon.

Thank you bud!

Lawsuit challenges sheltered workshops for Oregon's disabled | Reuters

I heard this story at lunchtime on the radio and I was intrigued:

Lawsuit challenges sheltered workshops for Oregon's disabled | Reuters

After my college days at Oregon State University, where I worked on the student paper as a columnist (Witticisms...imagine that!) and a copy editor, I worked six months as an assistant editor for World Christian magazine, I had to move back home to look for a real job...one that paid.

For a year I sent out resumes. Zero response. I want to a job seekers class through the Hillsboro Chamber of commerce. I had a vocational rehabilitation counselor named Art. He was an awesome guy. He tried lots of stuff to help get my foot in the door. Truth was. I was hard to market.

Truth is, I am hard to market. My cerebral palsy affects the way I walk and the way I talk. Getting a job depends heavily on your book cover appeal.

It was not until I met a couple visionaries who looked past my disability to give me a shot at proving my ability. Don Bougher ran the state volunteer program in Hillsboro. He had an Apple computer sitting on the floor in his office. He did not know what to do with it. He asked if I could write a spreadsheet in Lotus 1-2-3 to track volunteer hours. I volunteered and created the spreadsheet. Don was a visionary; he saw something in me and gave me a shot to prove my ability.

When I was going to move to California to pursue what looked like better job training possibilities, Don spoke with Gary, the child welfare branch manager. He told Gary the only reason I was moving to California was to look for a job. The next day Gary offered me a temp clerical job. Gary was a visionary. That was over 22 years ago. I work as an eligibility specialist now.

I think about the sheltered workshops. I never worked in one, but it seems like I easily could have ended up in one. I was intrigued by the example at the end of the article, 23 year old Eleanor who got a job at a grocery story after a "strong advocate" helped her get out of a sheltered workshop.

It takes visionaries - disabled who have the vision to believe in themselves when few people do, employers who can see past disabilities to see abilities, and advocates who can help both sides to vision the possibility - to make a successful job match happen.

Whether a lawsuit can make all this happen, it will be interesting to see.

A birthday card and a givers heart

We usually fail to honor people when we ought.  We wait until they are gone and kind words are the order of the day.

Tonight we were honoring the 20th birthday of our dear niece Manda Jo.  I remember seeing sis-in-law Pam over at Portland Adventist hospital as if it was yesterday...but I digress.

We were gathered around the table at Old Spaghetti Factory.  Pam and Logan were lighting the 20 candles and trying not to set the place on fire.

My mother-in-law (Ma2) started to hand us each a card.  She was watching me as I opened mine.  A piece of paper, nice cat and dog stationary, was secured inside.  It read:

"My seventy-seventh birthday card to you -

Troy,
I thank God every day for giving me you as my son-in-law.  I am very proud of you and honored that God chose me to be your favorite mother-in-law.  Love ya lots, Pat."

As I contemplate her kind words, I realize that her own words reflect the kind of person she is, always giving and preferring not to be recognized.  Who hands out birthday cards on her own birthday?  My dear mother-in-law does.

Her goodness has made and continues to make this world a better place for so many  people.  Her words reveal the kindness of  her heart.

Tomorrow is her birthday.  I won't say how old she'll be...just wouldn't be appropriate.

Happy birthday Ma2...much love from your favorite son-in-law.

;)

The Wonderful World of a Former Hoochie Mama

Awesome title for a blog:

The Wonderful World of a Former Hoochie Mama

For some of us life is one idyllic episode after another. Perfect spouse, perfect kids, perfect job...

For other's of us, life is not quite so perfect. We need to open our eyes and, with God's grace, search for the perfection in our life. For people like Former Hoochie Mama (Mel) and myself, we need to write about our life to bring the perfections in our life to light.

I am a born again Christian, and I struggle daily to be a decent person. Many people think you have to be perfect to call yourself a Christian - fact is there was only ONE decent and worthy person of being a Christian and His name is Jesus. The rest of us need only to try to be Christ like with his love, mercy and grace.

I am FAR from a perfect Christian, but I am a perfect example of His love, mercy and grace. I will NOT preach to you or at you - I will simply try to display HIS love through my actions and life as much as I can. I will also fail at this at times and I ask for your forgiveness before hand. :)

Please add to your list of must reads!

A "No" to transplant because of cognitive disability?

Yesterday I blogged about the ridiculousness of questioning whether a person with a cognitive disability has the ability to understand and accept God's love.

Today I came across an article about young Mia, who needs a kidney transplant to live.  The problem is that the doctor would not recommend Mia for a transplant because of her cognitive disability.

Mia's mom, Chrissy, writes:

"I begin to shake. My whole body trembles and he begins to tell me how she will never be able to get on the waiting list because she is mentally retarded.

A bit of hope. I sit up and get excited.

“Oh, that’s ok! We plan on donating. If we aren’t a match, we come from a large family and someone will donate. We don’t want to be on the list. We will find our own donor.”

“Noooo. She—is—not—eligible –because—of—her—quality– of –life—Because—of—her—mental—delays” He says each word very slowly as if I am hard of hearing."

Please read her post by clicking here.

Takes me back to sixth grade values education...is that what we called it?  You know, 12 people need to be saved and the rubber raft holds six.  I always figured I would not be one of the six who would saved.  I never understood the value of this exercise except to make me feel like junk.

Little Mia...a life not worth saving?  Doctors playing God?

It makes me feel uneasy..

Does God's love depend on cognitive ability?

This is an interesting yet ridiculous debate:

Is the Gospel 'Closed' to the Mentally Disabled?, Christian News

The notion that God's love is only available to people who can hear and cognitively process God's love in a prescribed way really bothers me.

Who of us has perfect enough thinking to fully understand God's love? Jesus welcomed the children to Himself and said that we too should

¹⁴ Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” ¹⁵ When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there.

If God's love depended on cognitve ability, space cadets like me would not stand a chance!

If we are going to say that God's love is only for those with perfect understanding, then we are serving a god who is in our mind. No need for God the Father who is in heaven, Jesus His son, and His Spirit within and among us.

Troy...step away from the soap box!

;)

You know you are getting old when...

I have had issues with dry, itchy skin for awhile, but lately it has gotten out of control.

Yesterday I visited a dermatologist for the first time. I smiled when I saw a basket of mini candy bars at the reception window. "A way to encourage repeat business," I wondered.

I was thoroughly surveyed...my visit was long overdue.

"You know," the doc said, "you will have to deal with this for the rest of your life."

My mortality flashed before me. "The rest of your life." Yes, I will turn 48 soon, and yes, I am not as flexible and pain free as I use to be, but to hear the doctor say that drilled it home to me: I am getting old!

Holladay Center alumn

Part way down on the left side of this blog I have a section called "Calling all Holladay Center alum".

Response has be quite underwhelming. It has been up for three years and I have gotten three responses. Now that there is a Holladay Center page on Facebook, my attempt to gather the names of alumn is pretty much useless. Even so, when an alum fills out my Google form and I get the notification by email, it is a bit like Christmas to read their story.

The other day was Christmas. Jerry Pattee went to Holladay Center from 1958-1964. When I responded to Jerry I could not help but note "1964...that is the year I was born!"

Jerry had the same doctor I had, Dr. Cottrell. He has been a volunteer with United Cerebral Palsy for 26 years. He had a 30 year career with Quest Communications. I am impressed because I would guess Jerry has 10 years or more on me. My road to getting employment was not easy. His must of been challenging as well.

Jerry said in an email to me that it is always good to know an older person with cerebral palsy. Our disability does not worsen, but as we age, the way our changing (aging?) bodies respond to our cp changes. Jodie and I are dealing with some of this right now.

We plan to meet with Jerry sometime in the near future. Jodie and I push so hard during the work week that on the weekends we relish our veg time. Jodie and I want to try to put ourselves out there to make valuable connections.



;)

Howdidwemeet.com

I was contacted by the website howdidwemeet.com to share our story, so I did:

I was three and she was four... - Miscellaneous - How Did We Meet

;)

How we met up again