Archives For Help

Last weekend was awesome!

Our trip to Ohio for the 3rd annual Helping Hands Midwest picnic started on Thursday as we made our way to Indianapolis for a fun overnight visit with our friends, the Thomas family (from MySpecialHand.com).  My Sam became fast friends with little Sam’s older brother, Carson, staying awake until late into the night telling each other stories.  My girls, Anna and (eventually) Claire, were in love with their dogs.  Thanks for having us, Eric and Jenni!

Friday morning I had the honor of speaking at little Sam’s school.  Four classes of kindergartners packed into a little space in the library.  And they were awesome!  The talk went really well and they did a great job listening.  I also learned that the question-and-answer time at the end might best be reserved for groups of older kids.  Though that was probably the funniest part of the whole presentation!  “Yes, you had a question?”  “My mom likes lasagna!”  “Awesome!”  I was also asked about a poster behind me and, “What do these footballs mean?”  They were baseballs.  So good.  My wife and kids got to be there for the first time, too!  That was awesome.  I’m so grateful for the teachers at Delaware Trail Elementary and their willingness to let me tell their kids that “Different is Awesome!”

Audience participation at its finest!

Audience participation at its finest!

You got HAACKED!  Sigh...

You got HAACKED! Sigh…

Eric took some fantastic pictures and a little video of my visit – click here to check them out.

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Today I had the pleasure of speaking to about sixty second-graders.  IT WAS AWESOME.  I gave my talk about how being different is awesome and how each of them is awesome in their own way.  I showed one video (the jumping rope one) during my presentation and they liked it so much they basically begged to see more after the Q&A time…so we watched a couple more (including the basketball one where they clapped every time I made a basket)!  I also juggled a couple of my LOH stress relief cubes and then, at the suggestion of my beautiful wife, had a couple volunteers try it.  Then I gave them each a cube for their efforts.

Let me tell you a couple of my favorite parts and then wrap-up with a more serious thought.

My favorite question was from a little girl who asked, “Do you like Downton Abbey?”  I wanted to shout, “FREE BATES!” but instead just told her that was an AMAZING question.

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Today I visited my daughter Claire’s class to capitalize on yesterday’s, uh, eventful experience.

When I arrived this time, all the kids very calmly said, “Hi, Claire’s dad!”  It was pretty clear the teacher had spoken to them after I left yesterday.  As we gathered on the carpet, I confirmed this theory by asking them, “So, did you guys talk about me after I left yesterday?”  I’m super subversive.  They told me that they had all talked about how some people are born with one leg or NO legs or they can’t hear or see, things like that.  At one point as we were identifying differences people might have, this little boy shouted, “MY BROTHER IS SEVEN!”  “That IS different!” I said, trying not to laugh.  He was so earnest and I loved that he identified a difference in his own family.  The teacher asked if they remembered what she said about how we should react and this little boy says, “We’re not supposed to say things about other peoples’ dads.”  Not quite what she was going for, but it made me laugh.  I was overjoyed to hear that she had taken the initiative to talk to her students about the situation and teach them about accepting others.

They had some great questions for me, too, all of them revolving around the same theme: How do you…with one hand?  Most of them didn’t even ask specifics, they just wondered how I did ANYTHING at all.  I told them that I figure out how to do things just like they do.  For instance, I brought a container with two racquet balls in it, so I showed them how I hold it to open it and then took the balls out.  “Do you think I can juggle these?” I asked.  “YES!” shouted Claire.  She was excited about this part all morning.  So, I juggled for them and they clapped as their jaws dropped.  Pretty amazing stuff.

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“HE HAS ONE ARM!  I’M TOTALLY FREAKED OUT!” she yelled.

Basically right in my face.

I dropped my daughter off at her pre-k classroom this morning and that’s how one of the girls regaled me.  A number of them started screaming, feeding off of each other, and as I left I saw Claire say, “He actually has one and a HALF!”  I wanted to laugh, but It wasn’t funny.  She looked sad and uncomfortable.  I wished I could have stayed, but had to go to work.  I wish I had stayed anyway.

If you know me at all, you’re aware that I don’t mind kids’ stares and awkward (read: offensive) reactions.  They’re kids.  Yes, it can be obnoxious, but whatever.  Today, though, I thought to myself, “What if I weren’t me?”  What if I was somebody that was more self-conscious; someone less comfortable with himself?  I’d have been horrified!  I would have yelled at those kids and cried when I got back to my car, telling myself, “THIS is why you don’t go out.”

And then at dinner I asked Claire about this morning and she got really sad.  I asked about their reaction and she said they just kept laughing because they “thought it was weird.”  My arm, she meant.  “Did you say anything?” I asked.  “I tried to, but they just kept laughing and not listening to me!” Claire replied.  It broke my heart.  She tried to defend me, but it fell on deaf ears.

Tomorrow I’m going to stay for a few extra minutes when I drop Claire off.

I want the kids to be able to ask me questions.  I want to give Claire a chance to say something if she wants to.  I want them to see that I’m not something to be freaked-out by, but that I’m a loving dad and a pretty funny guy.  I want to tell them, lovingly, that laughing and screaming about someone’s difference is inappropriate.  I will tell them that we’re all different in some way and that, instead of freaking-out about it, we should ask questions nicely and get to know people as friends.  I want to help out the next person who might not be like me.

And I’m still debating about whether or not to end our time together by screaming and chasing them around the room while I flail my arms.

We’ll see.

 

I See A Therapist

May 17, 2013 — 18 Comments

In the summer of 2004 I said to myself, “I need to see a therapist.”  I remember where I was standing and how I felt when I said it.

On September 2nd, 2010, I saw Dr. S for the first time.

It took me over six years to make that first appointment.

What took me so long?  Looking back, I believe the stigma of “seeing a therapist” is what caused the delay.  Forgive my generalization, but I’m a man.  Men believe they can handle things on their own.  We don’t like asking for help because it makes us look weak.  At least that’s our perception.  In reality, asking for help when you need it is one of the strongest things you can do.  Especially if you’ve been driving in the wrong direction for an hour and everybody knows it, but you don’t want to admit it.  Am I right?!  Anyway, for me, I didn’t want anybody to know about the dark feelings bubbling underneath.  Heck, I didn’t want to believe they were there myself!  I wanted to be a good dad and husband and take care of everything on my own.  So, I stuffed it all deep down inside.

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In January I had the pleasure of traveling to Boston for an event with my friend Tony Memmel.  Due to some unforeseen circumstances (ahem – missed my bus from Madison), I ended-up getting to the airport a little early.  I sat down to eat breakfast and a little while later I noticed Tony and his mom, Katie, sitting at a table on the other side of the food court.  Instead of going over, I just watched.  I know that sounds creepy, but I don’t mean it that way.  I just mean that I watched a mother and her son enjoying their time together.  They smiled, they laughed, they looked comfortable; like two people genuinely enjoying each others company.  Eventually, I did make my way over and we walked toward our gate together.  They hugged, said their “I love you’s” and told each other to be safe.  “There’s all this weird construction around the airport right now; I don’t like that she has to drive in it,” Tony told me.

8355626Having recently finished Katie’s book, Five Fingers, Ten Toes: A Mother’s Story of Raising a Child With a Limb-Difference, the exchange I witnessed between the two of them in January comes as no surprise.  They are quite the pair, those two!  In her book, Katie recounts her journey as a young mother raising a different kind of child.  What I love most about Katie’s story is the honesty with which she tells it.  Her struggles, her fears, her bad reactions, her confusion…all on display.  What is also on display, though, is her growth and her wisdom.  She shares with us her philosophies on parenting and tells us how she did it without making the reader feel like they’re a bad person if they don’t do it the same way.

It was so interesting for me as a limb-different person to read about the experience from her perspective.  To hear about the painful beginnings in the delivery room and to know that my own mother went through much the same experience.  To see the many parallels between Tony and I.  My mom read the book, too, and hasn’t felt able to talk about it with me yet.  “It’s so, so powerful, Ryan,” she told me, “I’ve had to set it down numerous times to just cry and remember.”  She connected so deeply with the joy and the pain that Katie went through and found it overwhelming to know other women went through the same thing.  If you’re a parent, especially a mom, of a limb-different child, you need to read this book.  It will affect you deeply.

Ultimately, though, Five Fingers, Ten Toes is a book for anyone that likes a good story;  Katie’s is rich and she tells it well.  And it’s not only Tony’s inspiring story about overcoming obstacles along the way to becoming an accomplished musician.  It’s a story about a mother and a father, finding their way.  A sister (Hi, Megan!) who was loved by her brother and parents and has her own story to tell.  It’s about a family.  It’s about love and respect and hope.

And I, for one, am I’m so thankful Katie shared it.

You can purchase Katie’s book through Amazon or her website and you can learn more about Tony at his website, TonyMemmel.com.

The conversation started the same as it always does: me complaining about my lack of self-discipline.

I’m still not eating well.  I haven’t yet started running again.  My writing isn’t where I want it to be.  I’m still not focusing completely on the kids when I’m with them.  On and on and on…the same things, over and over.  There’s no question that my desires are good. Becoming a better person is a noble pursuit, right?  Anybody who’s tried, though, knows it’s not easy.  Steven Pressfield talks about how we experience Resistance when we try to better ourselves in his book The War of Art (must read).  I think he’s right.

My friend and I had spoken about focus in previous conversations.  Instead of trying to improve everything incrementally and spreading myself thin, why not try focusing on one or two areas for a specified amount of time?  This time, as he spoke about focusing on just one area and “maintaining” the others, I started to sweat.  And I sighed a lot. Continue Reading…

Aron Ralston Swore At Me

February 21, 2013 — 4 Comments

“You lucky son of a b****,” Aron Ralston said as he playfully punched me.

Find out why…after the break

It’s like The Bachelor all up in here.

I’ll get to why Aron said that to me in a minute, but first, how did I even get myself in that position?  Aron was in Madison today as part of the Distinguished Lecture Series on the UW-Madison campus.  In case you’re not familiar, Aron is “that guy who got stuck in a canyon and had to cut his arm off to get free.”  My friend Mary told me about his upcoming appearance last week.  Thanks, Mary!  I’ve gone to previous lectures and they are always well attended, so I showed up nearly an hour early and it paid off.  I had a great seat even though there were probably a thousand people there.  Such a great turnout to hear him speak!

Aron’s presentation was fantastic.  He walked us through his story, his presentation interspersed with both drama and humor.  He punctuated parts of his story with the lessons he learned from selected events, like the importance of accountability and what he learned about courage and commitment from his ordeal.  He also told us what it’s like to drink your own pee and yes, he went into detail about how he cut his arm off.  Insane.  The whole thing was a wonderful learning experience for a budding speaker like myself, too.

"I suppose drinking your own pee is better than drinking someone else's pee." True fact.

“I suppose drinking your own pee is better than drinking someone else’s pee.” True fact.

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Bring It On, Love

February 12, 2013 — 9 Comments

Valentine’s Day is this week, so what better theme for the blog than love? I’ll be sharing my thoughts on finding love, as will my beautiful wife, but today we kick things off with the hilariously talented Kristy Desilets. Kristy is a teacher in the Boston area who likes to run, loves expressing herself creatively, and secretly wishes she had twenty cats. Shhhh. I met Kristy a couple weeks ago and love her perspective. I hope you’re inspired by her confidence!

Hi, I’m Kristy, and I was born with only a right hand.

Hi, Kristy! Cool helmet.

Hi, Kristy! Cool helmet.

That’s not my usual introduction line to strangers, by the way. As a guest blogger on the topic of finding love, Ryan suggested discussing this question: Had I ever been nervous that I’d never find love because of my (one) hand? To answer that question, I pose another: When was the last time you heard a guy comment, “Wow, that chick’s got a great pair of hands!” Never. That’s when. Turns out most guys don’t care so much about hands. Huh.

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“Of course the prosthetist has one leg,” I thought to myself.

His name was Ken and he was big and loud and, honestly, kind of scary.  He invited me back and I followed him through the halls of Aljan, the place where I’d received my prosthetics some twenty-five years ago.

Look what I can do!

Look what I can do!

I decided to go there again recently, not to get a new arm, but to do some reconnaissance work.  I’m asked all the time about prosthetics and since I haven’t worn one in over twenty years, I figured it’d be good to bone-up on the subject.

The funny thing is, I drive by Aljan every week.  And nearly every time for the last year I’ve thought to myself, “Dude, just make an appointment and go in.”  I’m glad I finally did because I learned a lot.

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