Thursday, November 29, 2018

Friends


I'm a mixture of personal qualities and traits, as I’m sure we all are. The first few traits I tend to think when someone asks me about myself are: 
1) I love good jokes, comedy, humor, and laughing.
2) I am a huge fan of art in all of its forms (visual, auditory, performing, musical, etc.)
3) I am extremely loyal and selfless towards good friends who have always been there for me, through thick and thin.

Some of you may wonder why I mention my close friends before I mention my parents and family, and the reasons are quite straightforward: all of my family members who aren't my parents live a good distance away. Most of the time, I'll talk to and tell my friends more than I'll tell my parents. The son my parents know and the person my friends know are two distinct and considerably different people in certain ways. The "me" that my parents know is a quiet, mild mannered, almost timid kid who is pure in heart and personality. The "me" my close friends know? He's a very different story. That "me" is crazy and rambunctious at times, the life of our party at dances, having and has no shame in cracking some of the more provocative jokes and speaking his mind. Some of my best friends probably know the real me more than my parents do. 

This line between friends-me and parents-me has really never been crossed. I started testing the waters by sticking my toe into it when it comes to my dad, and it's gone relatively well. My mother? I've only ever crossed that line once, maybe twice in my life. The one time was during a short time frame after the accident, while I was still bedridden in the hospital. Apparently, I couldn't really move my left side. As in, it was semi paralyzed on that side; it even says so on my hospital report listing my injuries. My mouth was okay though, and some of the things that came out of it weren't exactly, how do I put it? Mild mannered or gentlemanlike? Apparently I swore like a sailor and was extremely aggressive (both physically and verbally) towards nurses if I felt any kind of pain or discomfort when they tried to move me. I had no filter whatsoever. Which made for quite the reveal and surprise for my parents. 

Should I be closer to my friends than my parents? Probably not. But hey, I'm not going to tell a lie to seem more "normal" and "proper". I'm not afraid of speaking my mind, remember? But there's no denying it; if friends treat me well, I'll get very close to them. I'll have no hesitation saying I love them. Albeit platonically in most cases, but I still love them. And I'm pretty confident the feeling is reciprocated in most if not all cases. I've been told that when I was in a coma, several of my closest friends came to visit me. Apparently, one of them (I won't give names in case they don't want anyone else to know besides my parents) visited me by herself and cried, even laying in my hospital bed and holding my hand even though I was out cold. After I awoke, even more friends came to visit me. So yah, I love my friends. They're amazing people in their own ways, and even though we can't really see each other anymore since some of them have gone off to out-of-state prestigious colleges, I still wish them all the absolute best in their future.

Sunday, November 18, 2018

Accomodations


I'm pretty sure I'm a rather unique case in our little school called University Laboratory High School. Even Mrs. Boca had said so in Statistics; I am much slower taking a test, and am supposed to be given special accommodations during a test. Mrs. Boca had been trying her best by giving me extra time by allowing me to stay after school to finish the test, and printing out a couple copies of a test for me to look at to prevent confusion when all the problems are jumbled onto one page and I may mix up some formulas. But she still told me privately one day after class that I should tell her anything I need and if the accommodations she had provided were enough because she's "never had a case like mine in [her] career teaching."

Because I'm "unique" (not in a good way), I have regular IEP meetings every month or two. IEP stands for "Individual Education Plan" to try to adjust my education to meet my needs. This entailed a variety of things: extended time on work if I ask for it, more time to get from class to class if required, and several other things I used to utilize but have stopped using as I've progressed. I used to have an aid to walk around with me wherever I needed to go back at Urbana High School during my fake senior year. This meant passing periods, walking to and from the schoolbus, and even going to the restroom. One time I had gone to the restroom without having the teacher call them for help, and they were rather angry with me. Looking back, I realized that the anger was well deserved; if I ever fell and injured myself during my solo ventures to the restroom, all the blame would be placed on the one who was supposed to be watching over me during that period in time.

The aids I had were Mr. Hobbs, a big burly man with a great sense of humor who could catch me whenever I was about to tumble over (which I've done several times). One time I missed a step going down a flight of stairs and was in the process of falling down. Luckily, was caught by Mr. Hobbs, or else there's a good chance I wouldn't be here writing this blog post for everyone today. The second aid I had was Mrs. Anaya, a kind lady who was very mom-like, but in a good way, asking me about assignments, how my day had been, etc.

I used to also have to wear a gait belt 24/7, a lovely white belt that was an *amazing* addition to any outfit I was wearing! (In case you can't tell, the sarcasm in that sentence is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife). Some of you guys may have even noted it during my first days back at Uni. It wasn't the most visually appealing piece of attire, but it certainly did it's job of giving people walking with me to grab onto if I ever fell over. It was the way that Mr. Hobbs had grabbed me when I started falling down the stairs, so I gladly wore it around. 


Along with aids and the gait belt, the adjustment/ support I've needed and used the most is the extended time on work. This means homework and projects if I ask for it, and extended time on tests. According to my IEP sheet, I'm supposed to get 1.5x the typical alloted time for a test. I've used that line in my IEP sheet several times over. It's saved my sorry butt on most (if not all) of my Biology and Statistics exams. When I met with Ms. Grilo the other day(my case manager from UHS), we both agreed and brought up at my most recent IEP meeting the fact that I often needed and utilized the extra time on assignments. When everything was said and done, it was emphasized on my IEP sheet so I could still have the extra time when I (hopefully) go to college.

Last but not least, I've had several therapists in the most recent years. I've had the whole shabang: Speech, Occupational, and Physical Therapy. In the earlier stages when I was still an inpatient in the hospital and after I was first discharged, My therapists from Carle Hospital were Haley, my occupational therapist, Meg, My speech therapist, and Bethany, My physical therapist. I also had my therapists from UHS, but I never had to see them terribly often. I'm still supposed to see Rebecca Sigmon-Hernandez (my speech therapist from UHS) once a month, but I've "graduated" from all my other therapies. I eagerly await the day I "graduate" from needing any kinds of accommodations at all. Hopefully I'll be a bit more "normal" and heal back more one day in the future, but I've been told that an injury like mine could take years to heal, and possibly never heal at all. But hey, at the end of the day, I'm still around and conscious, so I can't be mad, can I?