Okay, I might be drunk… Sometimes. But, I might walk better when I’m drunk.
No, but really, let me introduce myself! I’m a 27-year-old woman with a little disability called cerebral palsy. Which is why I decided to start this blog; because sometimes I have shit to say about it.
For people who don’t know, according to Wikipedia, ‘cerebral palsy (CP) is a group of permanent movement disorders that appear in early childhood. Signs and symptoms vary between people. Often, symptoms include poor coordination, stiff muscles, weak muscles, and tremors.’ It’s caused by injury to the brain when in the womb, or during the first 2 years of life. Apparently it took until I was approximately 3-years-old to come up with a diagnosis because I was only one of two children in the province with the form of CP I have- ‘Ataxic’ CP.
ANYWAYS, basically, I walk funny. Hence the title, “no, I’m not drunk”. Why yes, I have been cut off at social functions before because the bartender thought I was drunk, when really I just have no balance and lack control over my movements.
Essentially, my legs don’t work like they’re supposed to… especially my left one, who I like to think of as my ‘problem child’. I use certain devices to help me get around- my weapons of choice are a walker, that I have a love/hate relationship with, and a mobility scooter I like to call ‘Mustang Sally’, as she is pimped out with turning signals, hazard lights, and was referred to as ‘the mustang of scooters’ when I got her.
I live with my super awesome fiance Luke, who is not only my partner, but also my hot-coffee-carrier, sometimes-food-carrier, and master-thing-finder when my ‘CP brain’ kicks in and I have to leave to be somewhere in 5 minutes and I suddenly decide that now would be a good time to look for the very specific shirt I want to wear/keys/cellphone and I’m freaking the fuck out like, “WHERE THE FUCK IS THETHINGI’MLOOKINGFOR?!” and searching everywhere, and he finds it in 2 seconds. Yep, he’s pretty great.
I also live with a dog named Elliot/Smelly/Smelliot/Fucking Idiot, who has been mistaken for a service dog before, but I can definitely assure you, he is not my service dog. In fact, if he were my service dog, I might turn him in/sue whoever gave him to me under such false pretenses, because he’s the most neurotic, pain in the ass ball of energetic fluff I’ve ever encountered.
We also live with two cats named Gus and Malcolm, who are also assholes, and I’m pretty sure were put on this earth to annoy the shit out of me every single day. But, I love them all and they will probably be featured on this blog at some point!
Anyways, I’ve started this blog in order to shed some light on what it’s like to live with CP and share little anecdotes about different reactions I’ve encountered regarding this in social situations.
