Last night during a progress report call to my shrink, I told him that BIID has been especially strong in me lately. "In fact," I said, "I'm looking into buying a wheelchair."
A silence. A horrified one? Then he sighed and said, "I was hoping the Lexapro would take care of the OCD."
I silently screamed, It's not OCD!
He asked me if I'd been going to a therapist. I told him I had but at that particular time BIID was not troublesome. Dr. Therapist is slightly aghast at BIID and has cautioned me more than once about buying a chair. Luckily, I don't go to see Dr. Therapist to deal with BIID.
Dr. Shrink suggested I come see him next week. I will, but suspect I already know the outcome. He will see BIID as a bad thing.
I don't know if wheeling is my karmic destiny, but I do know that I want to attempt some time at it, in a chair that fits. I went to NYC last spring and rented a chair at a museum but fit me it did not, no matter that the experience was generally a good one. Actually, it seemed perfectly natural.
What I want is a doctor to write a Rx for a chair for me. I don't know how else to get what I'm looking for.
The one experience I had with someone trying to sell / give me a used chair made me more than slightly uneasy.
If you have any handy tips, please send them on their way. In the meantime, I have a feeling I'll be spending enough money on Dr. Shrink and Dr. Therapist to pay for a pretty fine used chair. Gah.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Songs
I've noticed these songs and was wondering if anyone else had paid particular attention to them, too.
They sent a little extra prickle up my neck when I heard them and I was sure no one else heard them the way I did, with the obvious exception of "Ruby" by Kenny Rogers.
The first one is "Paint It Black."
"I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes.
I have to turn away until my darkness goes.
I see a line of cars and they're all painted it black.
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away."
What went through my eight year old mind was a disabled guy watching his unrequited love walk away and people refusing to look at him.
Even better was the Beatles' "You've got to Hide Your Love Away."
"Here I stand head in hand,
Turn my face to the wall.
If she's gone I can't go on
Feeling two foot small.
Everywhere people stare,
Each and every day.
I can see them laugh at me
And I hear them say
Hey, you've got to hide your love away..."
Again, I was maybe ten years old when this came out by my dev mind was formed by then and for years thereafter, I was frozen whenever I heard what sounded like a "dev" song.
It's hard to remember anything else that's hit me quite as hard as those two songs. I bought the single of "Ruby" and sneak-listened to it when I thought no one else was around.
Nowadays, I know I've heard some songs that may lean toward dev-ness or "look out, you're going to kill yourself."
Here's "High and Dry" by Radiohead:
"Two jumps in a week, I bet you think that's pretty clever don't you boy.
Flying on your motorcycle, watching all the ground beneath you drop.
You'd kill yourself for recognition; kill yourself to never ever stop.
You broke another mirror; you're turning into something you are not.
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Drying up in conversation, you will be the one who cannot talk.
All your insides fall to pieces, you just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you when you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you. You will be the one screaming out.
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry"
Ooh. Harsh. Someone badly broken while trying to fly.
Any other favorites? Any others spring to mind? Inquiring minds want to know.
They sent a little extra prickle up my neck when I heard them and I was sure no one else heard them the way I did, with the obvious exception of "Ruby" by Kenny Rogers.
The first one is "Paint It Black."
"I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes.
I have to turn away until my darkness goes.
I see a line of cars and they're all painted it black.
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away."
What went through my eight year old mind was a disabled guy watching his unrequited love walk away and people refusing to look at him.
Even better was the Beatles' "You've got to Hide Your Love Away."
"Here I stand head in hand,
Turn my face to the wall.
If she's gone I can't go on
Feeling two foot small.
Everywhere people stare,
Each and every day.
I can see them laugh at me
And I hear them say
Hey, you've got to hide your love away..."
Again, I was maybe ten years old when this came out by my dev mind was formed by then and for years thereafter, I was frozen whenever I heard what sounded like a "dev" song.
It's hard to remember anything else that's hit me quite as hard as those two songs. I bought the single of "Ruby" and sneak-listened to it when I thought no one else was around.
Nowadays, I know I've heard some songs that may lean toward dev-ness or "look out, you're going to kill yourself."
Here's "High and Dry" by Radiohead:
"Two jumps in a week, I bet you think that's pretty clever don't you boy.
Flying on your motorcycle, watching all the ground beneath you drop.
You'd kill yourself for recognition; kill yourself to never ever stop.
You broke another mirror; you're turning into something you are not.
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Drying up in conversation, you will be the one who cannot talk.
All your insides fall to pieces, you just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you when you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you. You will be the one screaming out.
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry"
Ooh. Harsh. Someone badly broken while trying to fly.
Any other favorites? Any others spring to mind? Inquiring minds want to know.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Stay at Your Own Risk
If you are attacked in a Marriott hotel parking garage or lot, too bad, so sad. You should have known better.
I've always been a big fan of Marriott hotels. I can't think of one time when I've stayed in an accessible room that wasn't. (Traveling with a wheeler.) The staff have been pleasant but not overbearing or sickly sweet.
Check here for the whole story: http://content.usatoday.com/communities/hotelcheckin/post/2009/08/68496944/1
Marriott eventually - three years later - issued an apology but apparently not directly to the victim.
A woman was leaving the hotel with her two little kids. She was in the garage, packing up, when a rapist grabbed her, put a gun to her head, and sexually assaulted her.
And the Marriott lawyers said, hey, it's her fault.
If you're a person with a disability, your risk of being victim of a violent crime is 4% - 10% greater than an AB's.
Not a pleasant thing to think about, but it's a consideration. Especially if you're staying at a Marriott.
Grrrr...
I've always been a big fan of Marriott hotels. I can't think of one time when I've stayed in an accessible room that wasn't. (Traveling with a wheeler.) The staff have been pleasant but not overbearing or sickly sweet.
Check here for the whole story: http://content.usatoday.com/communities/hotelcheckin/post/2009/08/68496944/1
Marriott eventually - three years later - issued an apology but apparently not directly to the victim.
A woman was leaving the hotel with her two little kids. She was in the garage, packing up, when a rapist grabbed her, put a gun to her head, and sexually assaulted her.
And the Marriott lawyers said, hey, it's her fault.
If you're a person with a disability, your risk of being victim of a violent crime is 4% - 10% greater than an AB's.
Not a pleasant thing to think about, but it's a consideration. Especially if you're staying at a Marriott.
Grrrr...
Saturday, August 15, 2009
All The News That's Unfit to Print
In the past ten minutes, I've read two news stories that have me seething with frustration.
The first was that a court in Australia has decided to let a quadriplegic man starve to death if he wants to. This is way too much like that misdirected (if you'll excuse the pun) schmaltz, "Whose Life Is It, Anyway?". In the news report, it's not mentioned how long the guy has been a quad. It may be as little as a year. I'm sorry, a year is not long enough to recover from the trauma and adjust to a new life.
The man complains that he can't even read a newspaper by himself anymore. I'm gobsmacked. Has no one in Australia or even his nursing home ever heard of assistive technology? Or even a mouth stick?
I realize that newspapers can't accurately reflect reality. They have limited space, but I don't think there are limited pixels. What's the real story here? How long has he been injured? Did he receive counseling? Physical therapy? Is he, for some reason, unable to control a power chair?
Even if he's been asking for this ruling since November 2008, when he moved into this nursing home, that's not long enough to decide a life or death issue. It isn't.
Granted, I have not been in his position, but I know plenty of other people who are and none of them are sitting around moaning about wanting to die.
The other story is about a five year old boy, Hassani Campbell, who has cerebral palsy and is missing. I'll leave the editorializing about the situation, because I want to focus on this statement from CNN.com:
cerebral palsy is a debilitating brain disease that inhibits motor skills.
This makes it sound like...well, like MS, where the condition may drastically worsen over time. I realize that there can be cognitive deficits involved with CP but has never been the case with CPers I've encountered.
Here's a definition from the Internet, so you know it's true:
a loss or deficiency of motor control with involuntary spasms caused by permanent brain damage present at birth
I realize that in the greater scheme of things, these two incidents may dwindle in importance.
Still, shoddy reporting, incomplete reporting and untruths annoy me. A lot. And I think diminish the people they're writing about.
Get your facts straight. And get them all. And shame on any editor who keeps them from hitting the screen the way they were meant to be.
The first was that a court in Australia has decided to let a quadriplegic man starve to death if he wants to. This is way too much like that misdirected (if you'll excuse the pun) schmaltz, "Whose Life Is It, Anyway?". In the news report, it's not mentioned how long the guy has been a quad. It may be as little as a year. I'm sorry, a year is not long enough to recover from the trauma and adjust to a new life.
The man complains that he can't even read a newspaper by himself anymore. I'm gobsmacked. Has no one in Australia or even his nursing home ever heard of assistive technology? Or even a mouth stick?
I realize that newspapers can't accurately reflect reality. They have limited space, but I don't think there are limited pixels. What's the real story here? How long has he been injured? Did he receive counseling? Physical therapy? Is he, for some reason, unable to control a power chair?
Even if he's been asking for this ruling since November 2008, when he moved into this nursing home, that's not long enough to decide a life or death issue. It isn't.
Granted, I have not been in his position, but I know plenty of other people who are and none of them are sitting around moaning about wanting to die.
The other story is about a five year old boy, Hassani Campbell, who has cerebral palsy and is missing. I'll leave the editorializing about the situation, because I want to focus on this statement from CNN.com:
cerebral palsy is a debilitating brain disease that inhibits motor skills.
This makes it sound like...well, like MS, where the condition may drastically worsen over time. I realize that there can be cognitive deficits involved with CP but has never been the case with CPers I've encountered.
Here's a definition from the Internet, so you know it's true:
a loss or deficiency of motor control with involuntary spasms caused by permanent brain damage present at birth
I realize that in the greater scheme of things, these two incidents may dwindle in importance.
Still, shoddy reporting, incomplete reporting and untruths annoy me. A lot. And I think diminish the people they're writing about.
Get your facts straight. And get them all. And shame on any editor who keeps them from hitting the screen the way they were meant to be.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Staying On Task
I have other issues besides BIID. (There. I admitted that I have BIID. More on that some other time.) I've been dealing with them as long as my manageable BIID.
The depression I have isn't very manageable.
My experience with psychiatrists, overall, has not been a good one. More often than not, he tries to impose his will on me without asking me what it is I need and where I want to get to with the assistance of medication he prescribes.
This week was my latest dance with psychiatry. I knew I would have to address BIID and likely would have to explain it, but I also knew I would have to get past it.
I had to address BIID because my referral to this particular psychiatrist came by way of a BIID researcher, although it was a colleague-of-a-colleague deal. This new doctor asked how I came to be referred to him. I explained and said, "But I'm here to deal with depression, not BIID. That's under control."
We talked about BIID, which he hadn't heard of before. He was deeply interested in it and said he had heard of body dysmorphic disorder. He wanted to know more.
His fee is outrageously high, but having dealt with bad doctors before, I know good ones can be well worth the price. Still, I wasn't there to educate him. There are web sites. He's a very intelligent man. He can Google like the rest of us and will no doubt come up with the sites I would have recommended.
I think one of the tasks that faces a person with BIID seeking help with mental health issues is moving beyond BIID, and more importantly making sure the doctor sees beyond it too.
Hey, it's a new thing. It's a cool thing. It's kind of a funky thing for doctors to wrap their heads around.
Part of my responsibility as a patient is to know as much I can and truthfully report as much as I can about my condition. I know the difference between BIID-induced blues and the long-lasting depression that has been with me for a very long time. In this meeting, I had to make sure the doctor saw beyond the interesting and new and moved on to the particular problem at hand.
I pushed him not merely once or twice but three times to move on. Again, he's a smart man, so he got it and we moved on.
I don't doubt that one day we'll revisit BIID, but it will likely be on his dime and not mine.
The depression I have isn't very manageable.
My experience with psychiatrists, overall, has not been a good one. More often than not, he tries to impose his will on me without asking me what it is I need and where I want to get to with the assistance of medication he prescribes.
This week was my latest dance with psychiatry. I knew I would have to address BIID and likely would have to explain it, but I also knew I would have to get past it.
I had to address BIID because my referral to this particular psychiatrist came by way of a BIID researcher, although it was a colleague-of-a-colleague deal. This new doctor asked how I came to be referred to him. I explained and said, "But I'm here to deal with depression, not BIID. That's under control."
We talked about BIID, which he hadn't heard of before. He was deeply interested in it and said he had heard of body dysmorphic disorder. He wanted to know more.
His fee is outrageously high, but having dealt with bad doctors before, I know good ones can be well worth the price. Still, I wasn't there to educate him. There are web sites. He's a very intelligent man. He can Google like the rest of us and will no doubt come up with the sites I would have recommended.
I think one of the tasks that faces a person with BIID seeking help with mental health issues is moving beyond BIID, and more importantly making sure the doctor sees beyond it too.
Hey, it's a new thing. It's a cool thing. It's kind of a funky thing for doctors to wrap their heads around.
Part of my responsibility as a patient is to know as much I can and truthfully report as much as I can about my condition. I know the difference between BIID-induced blues and the long-lasting depression that has been with me for a very long time. In this meeting, I had to make sure the doctor saw beyond the interesting and new and moved on to the particular problem at hand.
I pushed him not merely once or twice but three times to move on. Again, he's a smart man, so he got it and we moved on.
I don't doubt that one day we'll revisit BIID, but it will likely be on his dime and not mine.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
I Cannot and Will Not Hook You Up
If there are male devs who read this, please keep it to yourself. Do not IM me. Do not email me. Do not comment on this blog. Do not pass go and do not collect $200.
I was contacted via IM today by someone who asked me if I'm disabled and then asked me if I could refer him to a chick with a disability.
This was creepy and slightly disgusting. I've now had direct experience with why male devs are regarded with suspicion.
You know, generally I'll talk to anybody about anything. But this guy went right to the heart of the matter and the third IM he sent me asked me about my disability and if I'm a wheeler.
When I've chatted via IM with guys with disabilities, the disability rarely features in the conversation. It's more of 'what kind of person are you, what do you like to do, how's life treating you' than 'please tell me the level of your SCI, whether you have sensation or not and what adaptive equipment you use.'
Please, there are web sites for that. Go off with your icky friends and play your icky games there.
And what makes you think my gurlfrens need or want to talk to the likes of you?
Perv.
I was contacted via IM today by someone who asked me if I'm disabled and then asked me if I could refer him to a chick with a disability.
This was creepy and slightly disgusting. I've now had direct experience with why male devs are regarded with suspicion.
You know, generally I'll talk to anybody about anything. But this guy went right to the heart of the matter and the third IM he sent me asked me about my disability and if I'm a wheeler.
When I've chatted via IM with guys with disabilities, the disability rarely features in the conversation. It's more of 'what kind of person are you, what do you like to do, how's life treating you' than 'please tell me the level of your SCI, whether you have sensation or not and what adaptive equipment you use.'
Please, there are web sites for that. Go off with your icky friends and play your icky games there.
And what makes you think my gurlfrens need or want to talk to the likes of you?
Perv.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Lies Employers Tell
I worked for a Fortune 500 company for about a year, in their Human Resources / Human Capital (I hate that expression) / Personnel office. I was doing IT work and didn't do any hiring except for the person to replace me when the time came for me to move on.
It was stunning to see how a pervasive discriminatory mindset worked in what should have been an open-minded and totally law-abiding setting.
Applicants with "obviously black" names (Tanisha and Shaquan are two I remember) were not considered for employment. If your name was Justin, Kate, Josh, Heather or something along those lines, you were considered for employment.
When the company moved into its huge new headquarters, the design was bad. Very, very bad. One woman in HR had multiple sclerosis. She used one forearm crutch and easily got around the older, smaller building. In the new building, she was unreasonably far away from accessible parking and, more importantly, a bathroom. The cafeteria was a hike even for AB me. She voiced her dismay to management.
The company response was to get her a scooter to use at work.
Although she knew it was pointless and didn't resist, her dismay deepened and she grudgingly used the scooter. I'm guessing she disliked being forced "down" to a scooter and in reality although it gave her distance, it did not give her greater maneuverability. Too bad.
I left that company and went to a much smaller company. My manager frequently handed me job reqs to review for the department. Three times, I pointed out to him that the job req's specification for being able to lift 25 pounds was not accurate and might be construed as blocking the way for someone with a disability. I have never in my IT career been forced to lift anything weighing more than five pounds. My manager was surprised and offended. "But we would make an accommodation," he said. And I knew that was a lie.
Last week, I had an interview at a very, very big company. I had been using crutches while my leg was on the mend and on that day, my leg still hurt. It didn't matter. I set them aside for the duration of the interview.
I wasn't prepared for the amount of walking I had to do. Up stairs. Down stairs. In my lady's office. By the time it was over, I was limping noticeably. When I got home, I settled on the couch with a pile of pillows under my leg. I stayed on the couch for the next two days and when I moved around, it was with the aid of crutches.
Imagine my non-surprise when I did not get the job.
It was stunning to see how a pervasive discriminatory mindset worked in what should have been an open-minded and totally law-abiding setting.
Applicants with "obviously black" names (Tanisha and Shaquan are two I remember) were not considered for employment. If your name was Justin, Kate, Josh, Heather or something along those lines, you were considered for employment.
When the company moved into its huge new headquarters, the design was bad. Very, very bad. One woman in HR had multiple sclerosis. She used one forearm crutch and easily got around the older, smaller building. In the new building, she was unreasonably far away from accessible parking and, more importantly, a bathroom. The cafeteria was a hike even for AB me. She voiced her dismay to management.
The company response was to get her a scooter to use at work.
Although she knew it was pointless and didn't resist, her dismay deepened and she grudgingly used the scooter. I'm guessing she disliked being forced "down" to a scooter and in reality although it gave her distance, it did not give her greater maneuverability. Too bad.
I left that company and went to a much smaller company. My manager frequently handed me job reqs to review for the department. Three times, I pointed out to him that the job req's specification for being able to lift 25 pounds was not accurate and might be construed as blocking the way for someone with a disability. I have never in my IT career been forced to lift anything weighing more than five pounds. My manager was surprised and offended. "But we would make an accommodation," he said. And I knew that was a lie.
Last week, I had an interview at a very, very big company. I had been using crutches while my leg was on the mend and on that day, my leg still hurt. It didn't matter. I set them aside for the duration of the interview.
I wasn't prepared for the amount of walking I had to do. Up stairs. Down stairs. In my lady's office. By the time it was over, I was limping noticeably. When I got home, I settled on the couch with a pile of pillows under my leg. I stayed on the couch for the next two days and when I moved around, it was with the aid of crutches.
Imagine my non-surprise when I did not get the job.
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