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Blogging Against Disablism

  • May 1, 2008
    Blogging Against Disablism Day, May 1st 2007
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copingwithdisability.com original articles list and featured posts

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this is a list of original articles and future posts on the site

feature posts

Guest author Dave Breezy (A.K.A. Chairdozer)

Guest author Karen Lynn

 Guest author Tammy van der Kamp

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I just recently created another website both for people with disabilities and for people who are interested in learning about disability issues http://www.disabilityresourcelinks.com its going to be a growing and hopefully very comprehensive directory of links to disability news and resources from around the Internet it is  being updated daily several times a day with new links so if you're interested in finding sites and blogs about disability issues please visit http://www.disabilityresourcelinks.com

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    Top Health Blogger - Wellsphere


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    Thank you to http://www.wellsphere.com for giving me an everyday hero award

    Yes, we care!
    Wellsphere.com

    Here is a video of some of the other award winners
    http://www.copingwithdisability.com/rudy/everyday-heros.html

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    featured video

    Christopher Reeve: Hope in Motion

    This intimate portrait focuses on Chris’ remarkable recovery of movement and his constant fight to fully regain his mobility. Following Chris closely over many months of treatment and public campaigning for funds for stem cell research, this film was completed shortly before his death and shows his struggle to keep his hope alive. Sadly, Chris died before his most fervent wish could come to pass. What emerges through this film is a portrait of an intelligent, determined, candid and outspoken man who was able to maintain his sense of humour in the face of adversity. His inspiring personality will shine through as you follow his unpredictable, emotional journey.

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    e-mail Rudy Sims at Info@copingwithdisability.com

    Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

    July 16, 2009

    How 1/10th of a second CAN change your whole life! (my story) Part two

     

    an article written by  Dave Breezy (A.K.A. Chairdozer)

    Here’s what happened. My medical insurance on my motorcycle paid it’s maximum right up front, no problem. Progressive is awesome! My insurance through work, they balked at some stuff, paid some stuff, and refused some stuff outright, even though my doctors said I had to have it. And then there’s title 19. They will only pay the absolute minimum. Here’s an example of how they work. I’m in a wheelchair, with only one good arm, so I need a power wheelchair. They only wanted to pay for a manual wheelchair. What am I suppose to do, go around in circles all day?

    And as far as long term disability, they pay 60% of my base net wage, minus what SSI. pays. So I get only about 50% of what I used to Take home, not earn, not counting overtime, holidays, ect. And then they take out taxes. And their idea of "long term" is 29 months! Then all we will have to live on is my S.S.I. I went from making so much per month to making 60% of that per month and when my "long term runs out we will be bringing in about 50% of my long term per month. So to make a long story short, I have many medical bills, a house I will soon loose because I’m falling behind on the payments, And my credit is ruined because of these medical bills, so I can’t even sell my house and get one we can afford.

    To make matters worse, my home is an old Victorian home, 14 rooms, built in 1895. Not even close to handicapped accessible. Not to mention not energy efficient and way too big, Now that our kids have all grown up and started families of their own, We would like to be in a much smaller, more energy efficient home. We have done what we can through family, church donations, friends, ect. And I thank God for each and every one of them. But as it stands, when I loose my long term disability, which will happen soon, just my house payment with insurance & property tax, and my light bill will be more than we get each month! Leaving nothing for water, phone, groceries, trash, gas, ect.

    I don’t know where to turn. I’ve worked hard all my life to have a place I could call my own. And now, because of an accident, I’m loosing it all! I’m 44 years old, I don’t want to go into a nursing home. I want to have a life, to be there to watch my grandkids grow up, to take them out for ice cream, ect. And there’s no reason I can’t, except I’ll soon have no place to live.

    I never was one, even before my accident, that would shy away from someone handicapped. My take on life is we’re all people, If some people treated colored people the way they treat us (the handicapped), they would be up on charges. Besides, just because someone’s handicapped, doesn’t mean they might not be able to have a positive effect on my life. Maybe they know something that could help me. Maybe they could just be a good friend. Someone to talk to. Maybe the next time you pass a handicapped person, Instead of asking yourself what he / she is missing (what’s wrong with him / her), you should ask yourself, what am I missing out on?

    All I ask is think about this, how can you affect the people that you pass by every day? You may not know it, but you do. The next time you see a handicapped individual, regardless what their handicap may be, treat them with the respect you would want. A 1/10th of a second CAN change your whole life! That’s all it takes. A 1/10th of a second and you too may join the "invisible minority". I never thought it would happen to me either. But it did! I tell people "I’m this way by (because of an) accident, you’re that way on purpose!"

    July 15, 2009

    How 1/10th of a second CAN change your whole life! (my story)

     

    an article written by  Dave Breezy (A.K.A. Chairdozer)

    My accident was in 04. I started a journal in 05 on the events in my life since then Originally started on 1/ 7/ 2005) My name is David. I was born March 4th. 1962.

    At the time of my accident I was a 42 year old factory worker. A husband and father to three grown children, the youngest of which was 20 Yrs. Old. I was on bowling league each year. I moonlighted as a D.J. on the weekends, my wife and I owning our own mobile D.J. service. In other words, I was a healthy, active, hard working, somewhat overweight adult. Here’s what happened.

     

    I have this friend, who I’ll call Mr. S. Now, Mr. S and I go way back. Clear back to grade school in fact. My friend and I were both avid motorcycle riders, both owning full dress touring Honda Gold Wings. Mine a vintage 1980 model, fully restored, in black. His a newer model in white. In more recent years we had drifted apart. Each becoming more and more wrapped up in our own lives. We only saw each other occasionally. Then one day I was out riding around town, just for fun, when who should I meet up with but Mr. S. He was on his bike too. We pulled over and visited for a while. Then, being a beautiful afternoon, we decided to go for a ride together. We headed through town, then decided to cruse out on the highway, Maybe ride out to see how high the river was. It was a pleasant ride as we cruised along, the wind in our hair, the sun on our faces. This was heaven.

    When we got to the river, we parked the bikes side by side. And sat there on them visiting. It was during this conversation that we began to kick around an idea. A vacation! Yeah, that’s what we needed. A road trip! But where? We put our heads together and decided we could only be gone 4-5 days max. Not enough time to go too far. Also we neither one had endless money. So where could we go, Not be gone too long, or cost a fortune? After many phone calls back and forth and a few visits, Mr. S, and my Wife and I had formed a plan. We decided were going out to see Mt. Rushmore, and the Black Hills. We planned to leave Iowa, ride out through South Dakota, and ride back through Nebraska. Forming a big loop and seeing whatever sights were to be found between here & there.

    We both worked full time day jobs. We stayed busy in the evenings and weekends leading up to our chosen departure date. Checking out the bikes and deciding what to take along. We planned to stay in motels along the way, and buy food and charcoal and grill out for most of our meals. But even so, we only had the saddle bags and trunks on our bikes to pack clothes, cameras, everything we might need on the trip. Mr. S had a small trailer that he could tow behind his bike. That helped. We loaded my collapsible grill, A few tools and our cooler in it. As we fine tuned our plans it was finally all coming together. Finally, it was the night before. Our clothes were all packed, the bikes checked over, washed, waxed, detailed and filled with gas. Everything was ready at last! We went over the last minute details, and then called it a night. The weather forecast said chance of rain overnight, maybe we should take the car. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

    We headed out on the morning of July 6th, 2004. I remember it well, it had just finished raining and the roads were still damp, but the skies were clearing, and the forecast looked good. No problem, however we did get a slight amount of water spray from the oncoming traffic. Before long though the roads were totally dry. We had planned to stop at the local Wal-Mart, not far from home to get a few last minute things and be on our way, which we did. We pulled off interstate 165 at the Pella exit so my wife could get her goggles out of the trunk. When she had put them on and gotten back on the bike, we headed back out onto the interstate. That is the last thing I remember.

    I woke up, after having some really weird "dreams" so I thought, (I’ll explain later) to find myself in a room so dark, that I couldn’t make out much. I was on the most uncomfortable bed I’ve ever been on in my life! Unable to move, unable to speak, feeling as if a band had been wrapped so tightly around my abdomen that it was crushing the very life out of me! I could feel very little except excoriating pain, I could not breathe, I did not know where I was, whether it was day or night, nothing. I was mentally all there, but nothing worked physically, not even my voice. Can you imagine what it is to go from a fully functional "normal" person to being trapped in your own body in the blink of an eye? I remember at one point during this time, my nose itched so intensely. Imagine feeling that, not being able to scratch it, and not being able to let anybody know because you can’t move or speak. You just have to lay there and suffer. This went on for a period of a what seemed like a couple of weeks.

    Right over my bed, someone had hung a picture of my grandkids. Who did this or what gave them this idea, I do not know. But it was divine inspiration. You see, My granddaughter and I have always been very close. And she had had some problems. She was molested at the age of 3. Causing her to turn bulimic. It got so bad, that at her current age of 5, her 2 year old little brother out weighed her, and he wasn’t a bit overweight. And to make matters worse, I was her "safe" person. Needless to say, she didn’t do at all well with this turn of events.

    That picture was always there. When I would wake up in the night, Unable to breathe, wracked with powerful spasms that were so intensely painful it was beyond belief. When I just wanted to give up and let it all end, I would see that picture. And one thought would spring instantly to my mind. "How will they explain it to her? (if I die) She’d never understand." She was not old enough to understand the severity or extent of my injuries. All she knew is that "Poppy" (as she calls me) was there for her, no matter what! That picture is one of my most treasured possessions and it hangs in my room to this day.
    Eventually I did piece together what happened. Now I will fill in the details. This is from several sources as I have no memory of this. My wife, god bless her, was on the bike with me and remembers it all. I also have the official police report which is where all the measurements of the accident come from. And the medical records, that will explain why I awoke in the state I did.

    After my wife retrieved her goggles from the trunk and had gotten back on the bike, we headed back out on the interstate. We hadn’t much more than gotten back up to speed when we spotted a large strip of tire, like the semi’s leave on the highway sometimes, in our lane. No problem, No other traffic around, we spotted it in plenty of time to miss it easily. We drifted into the other lane to miss it.
    Then, without warning BANG! something lets go! The ride went to hell instantly, the bike shuddering violently, me trying to hold it and bring it to a stop, my wife clinging to me for dear life! She hears snapping sounds. It’s my collar bone breaking. The police report shows skid marks for 146ft. It also states that at one point the bike was down on it’s crash bars and I was able to bring it back. At that point my wife says I knew I was loosing it, so I headed for the grass, my thinking being, if I had to lay it down, we would get torn up less on grass than pavement. Only one problem, It had rained in the night, Making the shoulder soft & when I hit it, my front wheel sank in, quit rolling and started skidding, piling up gravel in front of it. This caused the bike to flip end for end. 4 times in all. My wife came to rest about 100 ft. beyond the bike, and I came to rest just beyond her left ankle. To this day nobody knows what caused the tire to explode. The only guess I heard later was from the officer that investigated the accident. He informed me that there had been a horrible auto accident there a week before. He suspected maybe a small piece of glass or metal that hadn’t been cleaned up had caused the front tire to blowout. We will never know.

    My wife broke her neck in three places, and is lucky to be alive and well today. (bless her, she has stayed by my side through all of this and still stands by me today.) I broke over 40 bones including my right collar bone, my left scapula (into three pieces), all my ribs, my thighs (both), my knees (both), my calves (both) one ankle, cracked my skull in 2 places, and I crushed the T9 vertebrae in my spine, completely severing the spinal cord. I collapsed both lungs, bruised both sides of my heart, various other internal injuries, and had a brain injury as well. I wouldn’t have survived, but for a couple of miracles.

    Here is my first miracle. When my accident happened, an ambulance was returning empty, from transferring a patient from one hospital to another. They witnessed the accident and by the time we hit the ground, they were basically on scene. Even so, they found me unresponsive, and not breathing. They rushed us to the Pella hospital, and immediately had me flown to Iowa Methodist Hospital in Des Moines by helicopter. It took 8 people to load me into the helicopter. Upon arrival at Des Moines, things did not look good. I was still unable to breathe, was unconscious and unresponsive, and had swelling of the brain. I had a Glasgow coma score of three. (A Glasgow coma score of three means 1. You don’t open your eyes, period. 2. You have absolutely no response to pain, & 3.You make no sounds. A corpse would score a 3.)When my family got there that evening, I’m told I was quite a sight. I had tubes in either side of my chest, a feeding tube up my nose, a pressure relief bolt in the top of my head,. I was on a respirator via the trach tube in my throat. I had an IV in either arm, and I was restrained. They had shaved my goatee and my moustache, as well as the top of my head clear back to the crown. The hospital told them to plan my funeral. My son-in-law tried to prepare my family for the worst. Having some medical knowledge, he understood more of just how grave my condition was. As the next several days passed, I fought for my life. All the hospital would tell anyone who called or came to see me is "he’s still alive, but that’s about all we can say for now".

    July 14, 2009

    A Case of Mistaken Identity - From PADS Service Dog Breeze's Perspective

    Tammy van der Kamp

    an article written by Tammy van der Kamp from  http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/

    Yesterday was a weird day. I know, because I heard Tammy say so more than once.
    You know the kind of day: a day of leaving for work late because of unexpected company; a day of running into an old friend – the kind you can’t just nod ‘hi' to and keep on going; a day of erratic driving,- not by Tammy, but by those crazies making scary left-hand turns; a day of uprights treading thoughtlessly along and almost stepping on my doggie toes.
    Then of course there was the case of mistaken identity. On our way home from work we wanted to cross at our usual intersection. I waited, vecroded to Tammy’s side just like she commanded. When suddenly, a lady stepped smartly in front of us, blocking Tammy’s view of the pedestrian signal. The lady was “very helpful”. She began to provide a detailed description to Tammy of the pedestrian signals, the traffic patterns and general flow of the people walking by.
    “The little walk-man is flashing,” she exclaimed. “You can’t go! Now the red hand is on! Stay where you are!” She said to Tammy.
    So I’m sitting there thinking to myself – I didn’t know Tammy is blind - she leads me everywhere. And, if Tammy is blind, am I a seeing eye dog? because I didn’t get trained for that, and it isn’t in my job description.
    I could see that Tammy was stuck somewhere between being annoyed and wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation. We ended up having to sit through 2 lights while that lady “helped” us - and Tammy just shook her head and smiled sweetly. Aaargh! Finally she let us pass, and as we did, Tammy said, “I like your styling boots!” You should have seen the look on her face!
    So, if you see a dog wearing a jacket/vest with no harness, it’s likely not a guide dog. Also, if my handler is making eye contact with you while you talk and comments on how stylin’ your boots are, it’s probably safe to assume that she or he is not blind!

    Fixer Dad

    Tammy van der Kamp

     

    an article submitted by Tammy van der Kamp from  http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/

     

    A Parent’s Perspective
    By Conrad van der Kamp


    Recently I was asked: so what’s the special role of a Dad in the life of a child with CP? What’s the role of a Dad in any child’s life? It’s all aboutproviding, safeguarding, teaching, hugging tightly and encouraging. And it’s also about encouraging from the sidelines and standing back when your child stumbles. It involves making room and letting go.
    Letting go is pretty tricky, especially when the child faces unusual obstacles and a little help would help so much. Do you want a hand with that sleeve? You want me to cut that sandwich? How about I proofread that essay? I know you can do that transfer, but it’s so much faster if I just … and so on. When our daughter was little I would swing her in and
    out of cars, into her wheelchair, and into bed. When she got older, I could still lift her in and out of cars. It was just easier; faster and easier. Well yes, maybe easier, but maybe not so smart. Not so smart for my back in any case, but also not smart as a way to affirm the young woman that she had become. I had to learn, and am still learning, to adapt to her rhythms and her timing; learning to let her lead.
    It was the same with schooling — I wanted to wade in, shape everybody up, and have them really see this soft-spoken plucky girl instead of the wheelchair. I wanted to guard her from offhand cruelty, from casual inattention, and from well meant but patronizing gestures. At the same time, I wanted to constrain her to act “normal”, talk “normal”, and to disappear into the crowd. Well I couldn’t accomplish any of those. In the end I came to acknowledge that she was pretty good herself at dealing with all the indignities. She was pretty darn good at ‘skippering’ to her goals and awfully darn good at reading people along the way. So now I sit at the table in her cheery, bright apartment, while one of the attendants she has hired is bustling about. My daughter gives me instructions. “Sometime, if you want, Dad, I could use …”, and pretty soon I’m fixing a loose cupboard door, or maybe I’m just digging some bulbs into her patio border, happy that I’m still in the game. I can still fix things at least a little bit. Then the thought crosses my mind that maybe she figures she’s the one helping me by giving me some tasks. I straighten up and scratch my head for a moment, trying to get used to that idea, and then I get on with the digging.
    This article was taken from "A Guide to CP' 3rd Edition Published by the Cerebral Palsy Association of British Columbia 2006

    July 13, 2009

    Inclusion Has Come A Long Way...

    Tammy van der Kamp

    an article written by Tammy van der Kamp from  http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/

    Inclusion has come a long way.
    I attended an elementary school in BC in the early 1970’s as a ward of the Province. At that time, inclusion meant the public school system, but a separate classroom and curriculum. All the children with a recognizable disability were in the same classroom. At recess we segregated ourselves. It was a BIG deal when early in grade five, I was finally admitted to the “regular” classroom. My peers had been prepared for my arrival by a well-meaning system and teacher that failed to take into account my feelings as the “object” of discussion. I wasn’t present, so there was no initial opportunity for my classmates to ask me questions about my disability. There was no attempt at real ice-breaking back then, though the teacher tried very hard to make me feel welcome. Still, I had to deal with some teasing and bullying, both subtle and obvious. The other disabled kids bugged me because I was in a “regular” classroom, therefore I must be the teacher’s pet. And the able-bodied kids only associated with me when they needed my help in class; they wouldn’t have anything to do with me in the hallways or at recess. I wasn’t the kid that got invited to all the parties.
    I was also the only kid confined to the school property during lunch and recess. The rest of the school could head to McDonald’s or the 7-Eleven, but due to liability issues, I had to stay on the school grounds, constantly dogged by my adult attendant. How embarrassing for a kid, especially during the sensitive preteen and adolescent years, to have the ball-and-chain attendant that had to accompany me to class, and even the bathroom! My loving foster-family provided a stable home environment, but I was still insecure and anxiety-ridden to the point that my social competence was hampered.
    On one hand, I really wanted the chance to do my own thing in order to gain some confidence and self-esteem; but on the other hand, there was a fear of the vulnerability that came with being alone. I didn’t have much experience being alone… What would I do in an emergency? All in all, my school experiences, both good and bad, helped equip me for adult life, particularly my role as a Family & Individual Support Worker.
    MORNING
    I’m usually awake by 7:00am, but my day typically begins at 9:00am. So I have a couple of hours to distract myself from thinking about my full bladder. I do that by planning my day: are all of my arrangements in place? Transportation, meals, bathroom breaks, cell phone charged, water available, the list seems endless sometimes, but the day’s accoutrements all need to be ready, and it’s my responsibility to see that they are. I don’t need a full two hours to mentally line up my day, and that’s where Rocket, my crazy cat comes in. He keeps me occupied, often by washing my face and hands, kitty style. That’s fine, but sometimes he also heads to the bathroom and flushes my toilet, which isn’t so fine when you’re lying there needing to pee…
    Once my attendant arrives, I’m hoisted out of bed, and prepared for a shower. Now, I am not a morning person, so it must be hilarious to see me, a bed-headed spastic quadriplegic, still drooling with sleep, dragged all snoring and crusty-eyed to the shower. It is only after the showering process ends that I begin to feel human. After showering, it’s on to the dressing routine, which is a unique experience each time. It seems my attendants still have difficulty understanding the concept of “left leg” and “right leg” when I’m being dressed. I hope they will understand soon, because sometimes I feel like a chicken being trussed for dinner. On occasion my friends tease me because they can tell who got me up on any given morning, since each attendant has her distinctive style. I guess they never played with dolls when they were kids. Anyhow, after I’m dressed I eat my breakfast and brush my teeth, then rush out the door, like just about everybody else. I hate breakfast, but I eat it anyway, because of my active lifestyle.
    It is busy by necessity and design; besides my job as Family & Individual Support Worker for a disability organization in the BC area, there are volunteer activities, a social life, managing my attendant care and CP, which means regular trips to the gym, swimming, and various other therapies, and oh yes, I’m also a University student… Seems there needs to be two or more of me these days; or I need to be Super Quad. Super Quad is very popular now; until a totally inclusive society is as much a reality as it can be, there’s always a new issue up for debate or advocacy.
    COMING AND GOING
    I’m lucky; I can do a lot of my work from home, but even so I’m at the office several times a month for meetings, administrative catch-up and so on. “Off to work” means relying on accessible public transportation, and that means having other people prioritize my request for a ride. It can also mean a substantial wait, so I make sure I’ve got a book, or some paperwork along. I also need to think ahead to the actual bus stop: is there a shelter where I’ll be waiting, or will I be at the mercy of the city's mercurial elements? I’m not very waterproof…
    On gym days, those that don’t recognize me try not to stare, but since we’re surrounded by mirrors, their efforts are both pitiful and funny. I usually ignore them and go about my own business, but once in a while I get to show up an upright, my term for those of you who are able-bodied. I like to throw a monkey wrench into those preconceived notions of what a person with a disability can accomplish. It’s fun, and I try not to gloat.
    I’ve had quite a few years to develop the sense of humour that helps me deal with the attitudinal and systemic barriers that still prevail. As a kid, I hadn’t yet accessed this important tool, and so dealing with inclusion – and exclusion - was a hit and miss proposition. Disability is a fact of my life; inclusion needs to be a fact of life, too, but not one that demands we all become Super Quad, or get pushed relentlessly into the “normal” end of the ability spectrum. My disability is part of who I am but it doesn’t define my personhood. My hobbies, interests, and relationships supercede the limits of my physical disability. The support of friends, family, and professional relationships has allowed me to focus on my strengths while acknowledging the presence of weakness.
    CHAOS WITHIN ROUTINE
    Just when everything is running smoothly, along comes an early morning conference, course, or speaking engagement. This throws everything in disarray and necessitates a quick change of plans for everyone. Not only am I up at the crack of dawn, but my attendants scramble to get me ready in record time, and some of them aren’t morning people, either. I end up rushing out the door with the attendant in my dust and Rocket looking at me as puppyishly as is possible for such an eerily yellow-eyed creature.
    Not everything is a “bed of roses;” I have frustrations, and good and bad days like everyone else. I have to live within the confines of the systems that support me and assist in carrying out my daily activities, ensuring my needs are met. Despite this I am ambitious and determined; I set goals and achieve them.
    One of those goals is to see inclusion become a societal norm; this is one of the points of my job and my continuing education. I remember when inclusion was a new idea, so I know how important it is to asses each child individually, taking into account their varying degrees of ability. Not everyone will achieve the same level of functioning; the point of inclusion should not be to turn out grand classes of “Super Quads” but to ensure that everyone gets the same chance to reach their full potential in life, and enjoy it like everyone else.
    Inclusion has allowed me to be an active member of my community; but inclusion cannot change everything. I still have a disability, and no matter how successfully inclusion deals with barriers, there will always be people who only notice my differences. But after I’ve been tucked into bed at the end of the day, what matters most is whether or not I’m happy with who I am, and what I’ve achieved, disability and all.

    Coming & Going..... From PADS Service Dog Breeze's Perspective

     

    Tammy van der Kamp

    an article written by Tammy van der Kamp from  http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/

    Tammy’s lucky; she does some of her work from home, with me sitting comfortably under her desk, but even so I’m at the office with her several times a month for meetings, and stuff. “Off to work” means going on the train, and that means having other people want to pet me. It can also mean a substantial wait, so it would be nice to have a treat or smoky bone along to gnaw on.
    Sometimes we take a bus, and Tammy has to think ahead to the bus stop: will there be a shelter, or will we be at the mercy of Vancouver’s mercurial elements? Tammy’s not very waterproof, but I love the rain! People should just learn to appreciate the smell of wet golden retriever…
    Sometimes we go to the gym; and I can see people trying not to stare (at me or Tammy, I don’t really know which – maybe both of us!) but since we’re surrounded by mirrors, their efforts are both pitiful and funny. Sometimes I flirt with them in the mirrors, to see whether I can make them break their funny stretching poses, but usually I just ignore them and go about my own business. And sometimes Tammy gets to show up an ‘upright’, (her term for those of you who are able-bodied.) I think she likes to throw a monkey wrench into those preconceived notions of what a person with a disability can accomplish. It’s fun to see and I know she doesn’t gloat.
    Tammy’s had 39 years to develop the sense of humour that helps her deal with the attitudinal and systemic barriers that still prevail. That sense of humour lets her get away with calling me the ‘fluffy blonde’ – even though I’m one of the tools that help her with those barriers! (Well, I am blonde, and after my bath, I’m fluffy, too. So I guess that’s ok.

    Life's A Breeze

    Tammy van der Kamp

    an article written by Tammy van der Kamp from  http://adventures-of-breeze.blogspot.com/

    In the spring of 2007 PADS Service Dog Breeze blew into my life like a hurricane. I should have known something big was up when the voice over the phone asked whether I was sitting down…For those of you who don’t know, I’m a quad – I’m always sitting down! The big news was that I had been matched up with a PADS (Pacific Assistance Dogs) dog. Her name is “Breeze”, and she’s a Golden Retriever. I had been on the PADS wait list for about 6 months; and I'd put a lot of thought into getting a helper dog for 3 or 4 years prior to applying. I wanted extra help for those times when nobody was around - after my staff had gone for the night. PADS Service Dog Breeze and I were introduced shortly thereafter, and hit if off right away. After our first meeting I had visions of Lassie pulling me out of the well. I was very excited by the prospect of greater independence, though perhaps some of my care staff feared for their jobs… A month later I was attending the two week training session.
    The PADS basic training session - which I have dubbed “Doggie Boot Camp”, was an intense, even exhausting process. I had to learn how to be boss of a dog – which is different from being the boss of people, and worlds away from being boss of a cat. In the first place, none of my care staff will work for kibbles, and they won’t wag their tails either, no matter how enthusiastically I praise them. On the other hand, I don’t have to bribe them with treats to motivate them. As for my cat Rocket: well, let’s be real – nobody bosses a cat. He still runs the house.
    Being the senior partner in a working dog team takes a huge commitment, all the consistency I can muster, patience, and great self discipline. Not only do I need to reinforce her basic training daily, I constantly have to establish that she’s NOT a pet – she’s a working dog. I was warned too by the PADS instructors that people who had in the past avoided eye contact with me would find any excuse to make conversation, now that PADS Service Dog Breeze was along. It’s true – she is a real ice breaker, even though every encounter with the public has come to include the words”No, you can’t pet her – she’s working”.
    PADS Service Dog Breeze and I are still learning to work together, but already she can hand me the phone, retrieve dropped items off the floor, including the TV remote, papers, pens, and change. She can open all the doors in my apartment including the fridge. Maybe one day she will be able to get me a beer! She can turn lights off and on, as well as push buttons to activate doors and elevators. She can help me take my jacket off by tugging at the sleeves, and the other day she handed my bank card to the cashier at my local pet store.
    PADS Service Dog Breeze has helped me tremendously in the short time we have been working together, and I expect she’ll become even more useful as time goes on. My favorite times with her however, are in the evening when her assistance dog apron is off and she is my doggie companion. She seeks my attention with adoring eyes, and sticks to my side as though she were Velcroed. She loves to rest her chin on my foot as I sit and watch TV before settling for the night.
    The things that make PADS Service Dog Breeze a great assistance dog are the same things that make her a good dog – she is loyal, obedient, and eager to please. I look forward to leading an even more active, independent, and happy life with her in the future!
    For more information on the Pacific Assistance Dogs Society, and its programs, check out the website at www.pads.ca

    The Priceless Penny

    KarenLynn
    An article by Karen Lynn from http://www.whispersofhope.org

     

    Isn’t it interesting, that still, in today’s society, we find indentations and grooves chiseled out in our expansive society which tries to prevent and stop our disabled population, our seniors, our financially limited person, and the less affluent from truly surviving, staying a float, or earning a decent living of their own.
    How many times have you seen in the lower economic areas prices being hiked up, and increased? You would think it would be just the opposite, wouldn’t you? Well, that is not the case at all. Prices seem to soar and swell in the location and locality that need to hang on to it the most. Even though our funds are limited, and we want to use our cash wisely, we cannot. We are looked at differently, talked to differently, and come across with a different social and economic regard. We are in an unlike economic community that has been lock in, dead bolted, and padlocked for life.
    The money in which we receive from one’s supplemental income aught not be frittered away by the interested parties which specifically aim, and aspire to zero in and target. Where is the social justice and the true moral concern? Where is the moral competence of big business or government to rein in and stop these unfairness’? When will big brother take responsibility and be accountable for their acts of immoral travesties? And, when will they stop taking advantage of, and stop gouging the weakest link.
    If you look carefully you will find your friendly neighborhood markets, gas stations, medical facilities, employers, prescription drug companies, independent living facilities, transportation services; all giving us the least amount of respect, supply, and conveniences, for the most buck! They smile at us sweetly while they score and gouge us royally. We pay more out of pocket expenses while the pharmaceutical drug companies profit and get rich.
    We as a community are sadly being faced with the realities of price discrimination while being charged retail prices. We are penalized economically, by being strictly limited by a basic welfare wage. First because we are a less net cost to society; and second, because we are disabled. We are exploited. It cost the government more to train us, teach us, coach us; and get equipment for us, thus, as a result, we are denied and deterred employment. We are subjugated in the unjust way that we are because the disabled are so called “in a depended role,” we daily, are not to be taken seriously. Nor, can we be represented because of this. They are not meeting our needs at all- we live well below poverty level, yet what positive actions do we see the government and all it constituents to make a difference in our lives? Do they do anything to help those who what to do something about there own circumstances? Do they reach there hand out to help us climb out and move up the ladder?
    We also are charged double the price for prescription drugs, while drug makers are giving favor to their most valued customers. Because of our enormous collective buying power, we, the Medicare beneficiary practice price discrimination. Moreover, how many of us in the last three or four years pay for a Medicare prescription drug plan monthly, but don’t use it at all because we can’t take drugs due to allergies or allergic reactions towards them? It seems as though our monthly checks don’t even get us through the month. The more we try to rise out of the trenches of the system, the more stumbling blocks, obstructions, and blockades we have to scale. We are not treated with a social justice or a moral competence. We as the disable community pay extra coast out of pocket which we really don’t have. There are laws which have been put together to pray on the weakest in society.
    So what will you say or do to help to change this desperately needed basis?
    Now is your time to speak out. Take a risk. Stand up for yourself and for your life, and what you rightfully deserve. Let your voice be heard. Pay it forward. While you help yourself, you will be standing up, and positioning yourself to form an ever lasting link. Let your voice be that moral voice to be reckoned with. Don’t be afraid of your politician, your friends, or family and what they may say or think. I’m sure they will respect you if not now, later! Speak out for what you believe in! Reach out to make your thoughts and feelings known! If you don’t share them, these politicians will never know! That is the only way change will ever happen. That is the only way we will be taking action to make this a kinder gentler place for all of us. We will become partners in the disabled community, and our voices will be heard. That is the only way we will be recognized. The only way we will be taken seriously, And, the only way we will be listen to!
    Let us unite. Let us come together. We must join forces. We must bridge the gap, more now than ever before. We must share our stories with people in power and office. We must make a difference in our community and society. It all starts with us- We must speak out with everything we’ve got- In this way; we will form a bond, a friendship, an attachment, and a connection that can never be broken. We will form a more perfect union to pass on to other generations to come. We must speak out and make that difference to change laws and regulations that prey on the weakest person in society. We must engage ourselves in what ever way we can to make our voices, our word, our influence, our right-to-be-heard, our vote, or even our own say so to bring equality and justice for disabled people nation wide to enact equality for all.
    We must not think twice of judging or condemning. We must not look down upon ourselves or our name as disabled human beings. We need to work together, as a team to vindicate and restore our sweet name as disabled men and woman who did not choose to be handicap at all or be paralyzed with special needs. And, most importantly, we must put a stop towards this inhumane, immoral, unsocial way of life. We must fill up every hole and crack, and have each of our priceless penny’s begin to count.

    July 10, 2009

    Writing for audacity Magazine

    An article by Karen Lynn from http://www.whispersofhope.org

    It hardly seems possible that I have been writing for Audacity Magazine for well over a year, now.  Every article I have written has been a new challenge.  Every article, I have written, has been as different as the article before. And every article I write comes from a place of understanding, compassion, and a sincere honesty to enlighten the public.  I would definitely have to say, however, that they have all been like every other article in this magazine; connected with the one purpose of exploring the daily lives and feelings of the disabled community.

    In a big, way, attempts have never been made to move beyond daily living skills, to understand and explore the other aspects of our lives. Thus, these articles, which I have written, have been crafted, created, and revealed to the public so that light may be shed.  I have seen articles here, on everything from learning to drive, to romance, travel, and remembering the great leasers of our past. I don’t know other than blogs, of a place, in which the great leaders of our community could gather together and express exactly what was on their minds. This is invaluable, because it reminds all of us that we are not ever alone.

    My experience, writing for Audacity Magazine, has not only made me more determined to move forward with my own life, but to experience writing for a prestigious magazine, when at one time, three and a half decades ago, I could not even form a constructive sentence by myself.  To be accepted by Natashasa, has not only been a powerful experience for me, but it has reminded me that I was right!  I clung to the belief that I could learn, and I did. I clung to the belief that I had a right to an education and I got one. And, I clung to the awareness that I was going to make a mark on this world. And, just like all of you, I have!  I have determined, in the depths of myself that, no one was going to define my personhood. No one was going to tell me, or make me believe that I was less than what I was. No one was going to take away the healthy self-esteem and autonomy I fought for.  But writing for this magazine has taken me a step further.  Each time, in every way, that I write another article, for this magazine; I am reminded of my own progress, and, I am reminded of all the other valuable gifts I have to share with the world.

    July 06, 2009

    The Birth of a Magazine

    An article by Karen Lynn from http://www.whispersofhope.org

     

    What does it feel like to give birth to something that no one else has ever conceived of? And what does it feel like to bring to the forefront idea’s that could change disabled men and women’s lives for ever? Well, I’ll tell you. I think it takes a dedicated, in-tune, and highly motivated person to bring ideas to the front- line of society which no one else has had the courage to challenge.

    The birth of Audacity Magazine has opened the doors, I’m sure for many. Not just for those writers, like me, who have some kind of physical disability or special needs who audaciously want to make this not only a better place for others, but also wants to bring a cutting-edge approach to those issues at hand, that affect so many of us; which are so easily swept under the carpet. But, also, has brought food for thought for 6 years now to all of its readers and subscribers.

    This magazine has brought to its readers a cheeky, daring, and fearless way of approaching the truth from a different perspective and point of view. Its angle has come from the disability community. Its thoughts! Its words! And, all its power! Focusing, directly, on the issues of the day-

    I’m sure; the birth of this magazine took to heart all the issues and fragile topics of its disabled population. I’m sure, that when the first issue appeared online; it was a very happy, joyous, momentous, occasion. I’m sure it brought an inward satisfaction to Natasha, the founder of Audacity. To see something materialize, from nothing; and to be shaped, formed, and molded from scratch, that truly, must have been gratifying, indeed. And, to be so focused, so dedicated, and so committed to nurture, and develop, story after story, month after month, year, after year, took much planning, much pride, and much perseverance.

    To have the ability to not only write, and to educate, but to shape and influences other people’s thoughts and views is highly commendable. It takes a person with great vision to broaden one’s opinion and scope- it takes an idea, an act, and a concept to bring such a dream to pass.

    It took a creative energy, to bring about the birth of this magazine. Thus, let’s light Audacity’s birthday cake with 7 brightly lit candles, to light its way for its fruitful year ahead.

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