Accepting the New Status
Three years ago, it was a matter of "No, I don't want this to be my reality. But it is happening. If I just keep my mouth shut, maybe the diagnosis will be something else." So I kept quiet but I also worried. Two and a half years ago, it was not formally diagnosed but the signs and symptoms were definitely there and not improving. It was time to be cautious but no one could tell me what cautious entailed.
During this span of time, I remembered my disability accommodation clients. Some of them shared with me those initial days of their disability and the rigorous task it was for them to accept the changed state of Life. In fact, The Lighthouse for the Blind offered a workshop on that subject for the benefit of their clients and a very select group of volunteers.
Some adjustments are simple-minded -- "You don't do it that way anymore, dummy!" You celebrate that you were able to run the 40 feet in order to catch the bus today. You're able to walk all three blocks to the clinic without having to stop and rest. And with each celebration, there's a small acknowledgement that the disability that has claimed you is real and not going away.
Some disabilities are easily identified. The person who uses a cane, wheelchair, or service dog has an obvious impairment. For the most part, these conditions were not acquired at birth. Instead, their onset was (in rare cases) during childhood or else (as is more usually the case) a gradual deterioration during adulthood, or some catastrophic event. Even though these individuals appear to have readily accepted their changed status into being a person with an impairment, an ability difference, or whatever other politically correct adjective is used, each one had to go through a period of adjusting to the change and accepting it as a state of life.
There is a certain amount of self blame for allowing the circumstances to overtake you. There is also a good measure of anger at not being able to engage in the things that used to be part of the usual day. There is depression at the thought of appearing to be monstrous to others and odd; thus, you are more vulnerable to being passed over.
There is hate at taking up more space than is usually accorded to "normal" people. And then the work issues begin to creep in. Resentment at being passed over begins. Passed over opportunities as though the door to Opportunity was barred. If not passed over, then offered remuneration that is far below the minimum wage after just proving to yourself (if not others) that you are worth your asking price. There then develops a realization that one must fight even harder than before to be recognized as completely qualified and able to do the job for fair compensation. And this proof may come in the form of a special ceritifcation, earning an advanced degree, or doing something that is extraordinary and having it publicly acknowledged in some fashion.
There is also a simmering rage at being put on hold for so long that it's as if the collective society is taking delight in the fact that your brain is becoming like one being preserved in formaldehyde. There is an horrific distaste for devolving into a persistent vegetative state. And the fight for claiming your rights as an individual while accepting your non-changing status as "disabled" begins.
The first step in the fight is to be acknowledged as an individual who makes a contribution to the social infrastructure and therefore has value. Here is where organizations such as The Lighthouse for the Blind, John Spenser Tracy Clinic and others provide tremendous value for their clients. They offer an employment board in addition to work preparation clinics so that clients are provided with the right kind of support for re-entering the workforce in a new and empowered manner. When doing a search for candidates, you could be very surprised at the talent that can be found at any of these non-profit organizations.
The next thing is developing some coping mechanisms and adaptations so that competing with the rest of the world becomes merely adjusting one's own strategies to do so, just to have a means of going toe to toe with the others and overcome them.
A Medic Alert charm may seem like something of a bit of overkill but it isn't. The ID allows space for known allergies, other disabling conditions, and contact information -- all critical in case of emergency. This is one of the first steps toward outwardly accepting the disability. The charm is the signal for those who are not aware of the invisible disability (not apparent to the rest of the world) that there is a health difference and one needs to be sensitive to behaving in a responsible manner toward the individual with the difference. Wearing the charm should create an awareness during the interview so that a question such as "I see you're wearing a Medic Alert charm. Do you believe you would need any accommodations in order to accomplish the details of the job?"
That's probably one of the last of the psychological steps toward accepting the new status of being disabled. The rest are strategies and tacit statements. The person with a disability, whether apparent or not immediately recognized, is a bit like a boxer or a sprinter. They come out ready to do battle with anyone and everyone in order to earn their ground and their right to prove that they are just as capable of doing a superior job.
Some of my past clients have essentially said they have a right to compete for their opportunities. They should not be forced to accept minimum wage jobs simply because of a physical difference. These are people with very keen minds. Their diligence in gaining their ground has taken more effort, perseverance, and diligence than under ordinary circumstances. Socially speaking, we owe it to ourselves to learn from these people in order to appreciate the many ways to adapt and adjust in order to gain success.
The newly disabled and those who are long-term disabled are formidable forces. Please do not allow the fact that they accomplish their work in a different manner to cause you to feel they are not qualified. Open your situation to anyone who says they are qualified and able to do the work, with minor accommodation. You may find that you have truly opened the doors to a broader spectrum of candidates and that the labor market for qualified talent is not as tight as was first perceived.
As for me, a little more than two years ago the day came when the formal diagnosis was pronounced. "Is it possible it can be undone?" I asked. "No," was the reality and the reply.
I bought my Medic Alert charm today and am now wearing it. For the past three years, I've been building up to this day. I dare any other person who has no impairments to do half as much with the same amount of resources. I dare say, even the heartiest would give up and say, "Impossible." It hasn't been impossible. It just takes determination along with accepting the changed status.
During this span of time, I remembered my disability accommodation clients. Some of them shared with me those initial days of their disability and the rigorous task it was for them to accept the changed state of Life. In fact, The Lighthouse for the Blind offered a workshop on that subject for the benefit of their clients and a very select group of volunteers.
Some adjustments are simple-minded -- "You don't do it that way anymore, dummy!" You celebrate that you were able to run the 40 feet in order to catch the bus today. You're able to walk all three blocks to the clinic without having to stop and rest. And with each celebration, there's a small acknowledgement that the disability that has claimed you is real and not going away.
Some disabilities are easily identified. The person who uses a cane, wheelchair, or service dog has an obvious impairment. For the most part, these conditions were not acquired at birth. Instead, their onset was (in rare cases) during childhood or else (as is more usually the case) a gradual deterioration during adulthood, or some catastrophic event. Even though these individuals appear to have readily accepted their changed status into being a person with an impairment, an ability difference, or whatever other politically correct adjective is used, each one had to go through a period of adjusting to the change and accepting it as a state of life.
There is a certain amount of self blame for allowing the circumstances to overtake you. There is also a good measure of anger at not being able to engage in the things that used to be part of the usual day. There is depression at the thought of appearing to be monstrous to others and odd; thus, you are more vulnerable to being passed over.
There is hate at taking up more space than is usually accorded to "normal" people. And then the work issues begin to creep in. Resentment at being passed over begins. Passed over opportunities as though the door to Opportunity was barred. If not passed over, then offered remuneration that is far below the minimum wage after just proving to yourself (if not others) that you are worth your asking price. There then develops a realization that one must fight even harder than before to be recognized as completely qualified and able to do the job for fair compensation. And this proof may come in the form of a special ceritifcation, earning an advanced degree, or doing something that is extraordinary and having it publicly acknowledged in some fashion.
There is also a simmering rage at being put on hold for so long that it's as if the collective society is taking delight in the fact that your brain is becoming like one being preserved in formaldehyde. There is an horrific distaste for devolving into a persistent vegetative state. And the fight for claiming your rights as an individual while accepting your non-changing status as "disabled" begins.
The first step in the fight is to be acknowledged as an individual who makes a contribution to the social infrastructure and therefore has value. Here is where organizations such as The Lighthouse for the Blind, John Spenser Tracy Clinic and others provide tremendous value for their clients. They offer an employment board in addition to work preparation clinics so that clients are provided with the right kind of support for re-entering the workforce in a new and empowered manner. When doing a search for candidates, you could be very surprised at the talent that can be found at any of these non-profit organizations.
The next thing is developing some coping mechanisms and adaptations so that competing with the rest of the world becomes merely adjusting one's own strategies to do so, just to have a means of going toe to toe with the others and overcome them.
A Medic Alert charm may seem like something of a bit of overkill but it isn't. The ID allows space for known allergies, other disabling conditions, and contact information -- all critical in case of emergency. This is one of the first steps toward outwardly accepting the disability. The charm is the signal for those who are not aware of the invisible disability (not apparent to the rest of the world) that there is a health difference and one needs to be sensitive to behaving in a responsible manner toward the individual with the difference. Wearing the charm should create an awareness during the interview so that a question such as "I see you're wearing a Medic Alert charm. Do you believe you would need any accommodations in order to accomplish the details of the job?"
That's probably one of the last of the psychological steps toward accepting the new status of being disabled. The rest are strategies and tacit statements. The person with a disability, whether apparent or not immediately recognized, is a bit like a boxer or a sprinter. They come out ready to do battle with anyone and everyone in order to earn their ground and their right to prove that they are just as capable of doing a superior job.
Some of my past clients have essentially said they have a right to compete for their opportunities. They should not be forced to accept minimum wage jobs simply because of a physical difference. These are people with very keen minds. Their diligence in gaining their ground has taken more effort, perseverance, and diligence than under ordinary circumstances. Socially speaking, we owe it to ourselves to learn from these people in order to appreciate the many ways to adapt and adjust in order to gain success.
The newly disabled and those who are long-term disabled are formidable forces. Please do not allow the fact that they accomplish their work in a different manner to cause you to feel they are not qualified. Open your situation to anyone who says they are qualified and able to do the work, with minor accommodation. You may find that you have truly opened the doors to a broader spectrum of candidates and that the labor market for qualified talent is not as tight as was first perceived.
As for me, a little more than two years ago the day came when the formal diagnosis was pronounced. "Is it possible it can be undone?" I asked. "No," was the reality and the reply.
I bought my Medic Alert charm today and am now wearing it. For the past three years, I've been building up to this day. I dare any other person who has no impairments to do half as much with the same amount of resources. I dare say, even the heartiest would give up and say, "Impossible." It hasn't been impossible. It just takes determination along with accepting the changed status.
More From This Author
