Picture this

Hello, to all my good friends out there. First off, I would like to say I am sorry for being gone so long. Believe it or not, I was having the biggest writer's block even though I am truly not a writer in any sense of the word. But I was really at a conundrumof what I wanted to say next. I just knew that it had to do with monkey bars. Intrigued?
Let me start by giving you a little history into the sort of person and I am and how I think. I picture everything. When I see a maze I form a picture in my head first on how the maze will end. If I throw a party I picture how the party will go. I am sure we all do this, and we will do our damnest to make the outcome picture exactly how we imagined it. Which leads me to a email conversation that I was having with my wonderful friend Dana.

Why is there always monkey bars?" I write.
Dana writes back and you can hear the giggle in her voice, "What are you talking about? Monkey bars?" 
On my recent 5k Run for your Lives obstacle course the last obstacle was monkey bars.
"Yes, my Moby Dick, is monkey bars. I always see myself crossing them with no problem and that I just sail across like my 6 year old, but all I seem to do is grab one rung and then wham! into the water. If it was a life or death situation I would be dead. "
Dana writes back really laughing now,  and writes, "It cracks me up that your crying moment morphed into cussing when confronted by those damn bars." hee hee.. 

Living with Cerebral Palsy requires creative thinking in all aspects of my life. I type with one hand about 25 wpm. I eat and write with my left hand, and I carry most items with my left hand. If something I need to do requires both hands, I will work it so my right arm or hand is construed in some sort of geometry angle with no name to make whatever I am doing work. Sometimes it works, sometimes I am cleaning a mess up. The point is before I do anything I picture in my head how it will work. This is the same with the monkey bars. I stand on the platform, I picture that I am going to fly over the monkey bars to the other side. It is the most frustrating thing in the world to me when this does not happen. What happens is I fall to the ground and my son running off giggling knowing he is better then me, in his 6 year old way.

I owe this "picture everything" talent to all my parents. (Yes, I said all) I grew up with my twin and knowing that I was different, but not that different. C.P was not to be used as excuse, ever. In turn, I have to give my parents credit for developing my critical thinking skills when I am carry the 20lb box with one hand, or dangling from the tree house 7 feet off the ground but knowing I am not going to be able to climb the rest way up. So thank you moms and dads for helping me develop my pain tolerance in life so early. And developing my mantra "Oh this going to hurt."

Next. Picture this 2..... 
 

Modern Day Slavery

I read this on NBC News Friday, and watched in on Rock Center that night and I have never been so furious. This antiquated loophole in the Fair Labor Standard Acts which was written in 1938 allows Goodwill, along with other companies to receive an "exemption" certificate to pay people that are disabled lower then federal min. wage based on time studies. This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard! There are no excuse to be morally and ethically wrong. Goodwill CEO in Portland OR. made over $500,000 last year. Goodwill is a billion dollar company that gets grants from the Federal Government to "help" disabled workers. This a company that has worked their whole marketing campaign on hiring disabled citizens. I have been lied too, we have all been lied too. No one regardless of race, sex, color or religion, disable status never should be regarded as a second class citizen. Every one please pass this on. One person in Pennsylvania was paid .68 cents hour with Cerebral Palsy.This effects me and it effects all of us.

Disabled workers paid just pennies an hour – and it's legal

http://openchannel.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/06/21/19062348-disabled-workers-paid-just-pennies-an-hour-and-its-legal?chromedomain=rockcenter&lite

Sometimes I have to let it go.

Like playing on those inflatable slides they have for the kids now. It not just bounce houses anymore, some companies have these humongous slides, and to get up to the very top of the slide you have to climb a ninety degree angle up the back of the slide, standing on a cushion of some sort that sinks into the floor, in the meantime you have to grab onto these foam "things" to pull yourself up on and use them for steps too. (Really?) I think I tried to climb this wall last weekend for a good forty minutes, because dang it, I was going to get up this slide. My husband kept telling me to give it up after I fell into the cushion that went to the cement floor underneath, but my stubbornness got the best of me. The sad part I couldn't even figure out why I wanted to get to the top. It wasn't until my 6 year old son came over to me and said "Mom let me show you how to get to the top of the slide." I finally sighed, and said OK. I followed Luke to the bottom of the slide where he proceeded to take off his socks and climb to the top of the slide by using the slide itself. It is really perplexing at times like those to think that adults are smarter then children.
When will I learn.

"Are you crying?" "There is no crying in......"

Finish that sentence. I can't tell you how many times in the last few months I have said it in my head. At work, at home, in the car. Everyday I have a new challenge, a new pain that is different from the day before, and yet, I get up every morning groaning, shuffling to the coffee pot and wondering if this pain somewhere in my body is just an ache that will go away as the day goes on or will it follow me until I go to bed. Then the cycle starts again the next day. No one will ever notice the physical pain I am in that I have learned how to cope with the pain. I still have to get up, go to work, be a mom, a wife, a friend, and still act like that there is nothing wrong except the ache of the "good knee" is the sign of arthritis and knowing, as my orthopedic Dr. puts it, "I'm screwed." Now, the point to all this wishy washy rant is tell you the two ways I have solved my mental debasing I go through everyday.

1. I have lost all sympathetic nodding to others that complain about their aches and pains, but do nothing to help themselves.

a. Do not look for me to agree with you. I am not listening to you. All I am thinking is you are complaining way too loud because I can not hear myself judging you. (Thank you Laura for that great quote) That is right people, I admit it! I am not saying nice things in my head about you. I am thinking that you are not helping yourself by getting every procedure done in the book, or getting a second opinion from another Dr. because the first Dr. did not tell you what you wanted to hear. Sometimes it really is tendinitis in your butt. Yes, this is possible, it is called an inflamed bursitis sack that sits by your hip bone. The best treatment for this is regular visit to your physical therapist, massage therapist because inflammation is normally caused by wear and tear. No, I am not a Dr. This is only an opinion through my experience and I recommend anyone who is concerned to go to the Dr. for the diagnosis.

2. Pay it Forward.

 a. Help those that need the help. My friend recently found out that she had a Cam impingement in one hip and a Pincer impingment in the other. She just got done with her first hip arthoscopy. She healing nicely, and she is even going to the physical therapist that I recommended to ghelp with her first bout of healing. The point is that I took my negative thoughts and helped her by answering questions she had and just being there for her. Her impingment just happened. There was no reason towards why her hips caused the impingment it was just wear and tear, but as a person that had been through the surgery twice before it was my duty as a friend and because I am a know-it-all I was meant to impart my wisdom of experience.  As I said from the beginning the main reason I write this blog is to share my experiences to make it easier for others.

I know this blog is kind of downer but as my friend Angie pointed out recently sometimes there is crying in life and not everything needs to be hidden behind your smile. You need to let people know it sometimes. This followed by the question, "Now tell me again what you did on a bike?"
That story is for next time.
Goodnight.

This is the Turning Point

All,
Recently, I was contacted by President Obama's Team here in Nevada to tell them my story. They were intrigued by the comment I left on the barackobama.com website that they wanted to hear more and feature me on the site. If you care to see a little of my story click on the link below.
Talk with you all soon.



http://www.barackobama.com/nv/entry/nv-this-is-the-turning-point-101512

Would you like a beer with your Zombie?

I love to sing. I sing to almost every song on the radio, I sing songs in my head. Singing is one of my greatest passions. If I didn't have music well...let's not go there. The thing is, singing requires no physical activity on my part. I don't dance maybe a little shuffle here or there, but singing requires only my voice and I like to say I have gotten pretty good at it over the years. My sister and I head to the dive karaoke bar that has a flamboyant K.J that should be in a show like Gypsy, but his choice is to play songs that drunk people think they sound good too, me included I am sure. Truth is, I haven't sang in awhile and I am looking forward to ONE beer (race tomorrow must be at form) and a song. Well, as the night turns into three songs, and three pints of  Hefeweizen beer with one big glass of water before the fourth pint is started I knew that I was in for a hard day tomorrow. We all said goodbye to each other at midnight with my sister giving me a hard look of a Jägermeister aftershock telling me I will be over at the house by 9am to pick me up for the Run.
Mandy is right on time. My hair is french braided on both sides so my loose A-lined cut won't get in my eyes when I  am swerving away from Zombies. I have taken three Advil (precaution), I have wrapped my right ankle as tight as it will go without cutting off the blood, and I have my brand new orthopedic running shoes on, so I am as prepared as I can be. All I keep hearing though is Brian's voice in my head to be careful, and this where I get nervous. What if I can't complete the run? I will have to go back to Reno and tell everyone that I failed. It is funny there is a lot of things that I will never be able to do. Like climb a gym class rope, cross the monkey bars, get my round butt over a retaining wall while running from Zombies, and falling with graceful thump onto the side. (Yes I did this, and it took my sister a few minutes to catch her breath from laughing so hard.) Anyway, I was determined to get through this with my flags or no flags, to be able to just say I did it. We get to a place that looked like a grass filled shaded area that is about two hours outside of Portland in Washington. It was beautiful, it looked perfect and I thought this won't be too bad. Now even though we were up North we all have noticed this summer it has been incredibly warm. And with the Northwest this was no exception, and put humidity on top it. As my sister and I parked the car and walked up the hill to check in I noticed something peculiar. After you pass the tree lines all you see is dirt and sun, and ninety degree hills. Oh good lord, we are at a motor cross race course, and as I look around it doesn't seem so easy. We get checked in and the first thing we noticed was a big beautiful sign that says BEER in haunted Zombie font. My sister and I had the perfect twin moment, we looked at each other and started walking towards the beer sign. We have an hour and half till our run time and nothing sounded sweeter.
Time to line up. We head up again another hill to our starting point when I realize I have to go the bathroom. (Yes, I have a point) so I head down the hill to the port-o-zombie potty did my business and headed, yes you guess it back up the hill. By the time I get there my sister is waving to me hurry up, we are the last ones to line up in the "dessert line" (really slow people) Fast people were the "Appetizers", and medium runners were "Entrees." So as we are waiting to start, a couple of ladies with red neck trucker shirts with eagles spreading their wings, or a lion jumping out the bush over their tank tops. Mandy and I liked them automatically. We chatted on why were doing the race and how we plan to accomplish this task. We all agreed that we will run as team and work together. By this time I have told them about my C.P and that I will need help IF there was a retaining wall. They think it is wonderful that I am doing this race and what an inspiration that I am. It is really hard for me to say thank you for the compliment because I am nothing special. I have mild C.P, there are folks out there that have it much worse. My friend Angie recently explained what these wonderful ladies were really complimenting about. "They are not giving you empty praises, they are praising you because of the person that is standing in front of them is smiling and is talking with all the passion in the world for this one race. Take the compliment Casey, you deserve it."

Really? Zombies?

Hello again. Wow, I make a blog then I leave it for two weeks. Well...you know how it is, working full time, as well as being a parent and wife. Time flies when you think you have forever. I am back now, and as promise let's talk about Zombies. To give you a little background for people who do not know, I am an identical twin. She is truly the other half of me. Where I am a little more down to earth, she is flamboyant in a good way,but we really do make one person. One crazy, emotional person....well that is another subject. Anyway, she and I actually have a quite of bit in common. And even though it could be all the horror movies our mother made us watch when we were younger, we both have this insane fascination with Zombies. Zombies creep me out. When I watch The Walking Dead I really cannot go to bed afterwards because my brain will not shut off from watch I just watched. They freak me out so much that are start playing twenty questions in my head like, what will I do in a Zombie Apocalypse? Will I be the fattie that is caught first? (Oh come on, we have all watched Zombieland. We have all asked this question.) Yes, it is true I do have these thoughts that go through my head. Which leads me back to getting a link from her on Gmail chat saying, "check this out." Run for your lives
OK, her links are always interesting so I could not resist. I click on the link and what pops up is a Zombie head reading, "Run for your Lives 5K obstacle course run". Digging a little further and my eyes widen. Oh my Gosh! In a really weird sort of dream come true moment for me, it reads, the runner has to complete a 5k obstacle course running from Zombies! I made the decision right then, I am going to do it, and I am going to convince my twin to do it too! And I did. The thing is, I do not run. Period. Bad things happen when I run. First, I fall. Second, odd places in my body start hurting. And I am talking about the mysterious tendons that you had no idea a tendon was there in the first place, and that makes life even harder explaining to the Dr. about the pain that is so intense that you are sure you have torn something, but come to find out that it is  tendinitis, again. Folks, I have had tendinitis in so much of body that if you could donate your tendons when you die mine would go in the trash. I digress, the point is that I knew I could do this. Granted, I have never done an obstacle run, but I was convinced, and determined to participate. I am healthly and I just had my hip fixed for the second time and as long as I don't do anything to aggravate the arthritis then I will be fine. I have great logic. (Side note, yes, I am 36 years old and have stage 4 arthritis in my right hip because of the C.P.) But what the hell. Really how much damage could I do. Next blog: Day of the Race.

Introduction to "It's just Casey"

Sometimes I wonder how I can logically convince myself that I need to write a blog. I actually have never thought about it before. Sure, you hear about others doing it, but personally I talk enough in life why would anyone want to further subject themselves to my stories. Recently, I have been through a series of mishaps or what I like to call, "It's just me" stories. And what I mean by that is a lot of friends and associates start laughing before I even begin a story. To me these stories are a part of my life, day to day living with mild right side hemiplegic cerebral palsy. How dare they start laughing before the story starts. I mean seriously. I haven't even got to the funny part yet.
 My dear friend Angie, who is very adept in helping me work out all my damage that I have done to myself through out just one month of my adventures, was getting her laughing under control from a story I just finished. My right leg might have been just a little tight because of it. (Yes, I will admit she is my massage therpist, and a blessing.)
 She asked "Have you ever thought about writing a blog?"
You have such a gift in telling a story and I am sure there would be a lot of other people with Cerebral Palsy, that would get a thrill in reading about you and maybe you can give them just a little information that you know that might help them with their CP.
So here I am, and welcome everyone!
My goal every week or every couple of days is to start writing this blog depending on my life gosh knows what will happen tomorrow.  I hope to have a new story about one of my "adventures" or just a little bit of seriousness about aging with CP. So this is the only beginning, and I hope that this beneficial for not only me with your responses, but maybe I can help you too. So join me for next week (or sooner) where we will have a little discussion about Zombies.