Today I met with a voice specialist who said, “This isn’t the end of the road for you. You’re on the last leg of this journey. And we’re going to get you where you want to be.”
My heart melted.
Unless you’ve been through it, there’s no way to understand the impact of physical disabilities on your social, emotional and mental health. It’s detrimental.
You spend tween-age years through adulthood trying to figure out how to function in society, learning how to navigate human interactions and how to cope when it doesn’t go like you planned.
Then your body throws a wrench in the whole thing. You can’t do all those things you fought so hard to learn to do anymore. And you’re left with no idea how to communicate or how to fix it — you’re stuck.
After more than a year of this, the joy I feel knowing that this woman — this expert — is hopeful about my situation is immense.
Sure, we have a ton of work to do. It’s frustrating unlearning all these defense mechanisms and compensations my brain told my body to do when my throat was going down-hill. But I’d rather be frustrated and working hard trying to fix it than depressed with no solutions.
At the end of our meeting, she said, “After meeting with you today, you have immense potential for improvement. It starts today.”
When I asked how the specialist could help me, the doctor who referred me to her said, “She’s a miracle worker!”
I’m starting to believe that’s true.