When I was young, I never really thought I was different from anybody else. I thought that going to physical and occupational therapy every week was normal. I thought that wearing a splint nightly to bed on my wrist and ankle was what the other kids were doing. I truly was convinced that all of my friends did what I did -- until I was challenged with the monkey bars at the age of five.
During recess, all of my peers seemed to grasp onto those metal rods and swing across effortlessly. When I tried them out, I couldn't seem to open my left hand to grip the bars, and blend in with my friends. It was difficult to understand. I was simply dazed and confused. That's when I figured out that I really was different from everybody else.
I was born with left hemiparesis caused by a stroke at birth -- a brief loss of oxygen to my brain. Hemiparesis is a neurological condition. It prevents messages from being transmitted to certain muscles of the body. The delayed automatic signals hinder fine motor skills and muscular strength. When I was diagnosed at eight months old, the doctors were convinced that I would not be able to walk or use my left hand at all. I mean, they could have been right -- but with the love, support, and determination from my parents, the doctors were certainly proven wrong.
For over 10 years, physical and occupational therapy sessions was a weekly regimen for me. I was taught to regain muscle, and figure out how to utilize my left side through everyday tasks. To put this into perspective, most people without thinking, are able to grab a pen and pick it up mindlessly. For me, I have to tell my fingers to surround the pen, and then grasp it. It takes longer, but that’s because I don't have the automatic ability from my brain to instinctively make my muscles move a certain way. Often times I can't complete the task, but I've learned how to compensate in various fashions.
How does this relate to the monkey bars? You can imagine how hard it must've been for me. I was discouraged when I realized I couldn't accomplish what my friends could do in less than 30 seconds. However, instead of giving up, I practiced on my own for hours and hours, training my hand to open and teaching myself how to grip and release properly. Even at such a young age, I refused to think I was incapable and helpless. I figured out how to open up my left hand with the assistance of the bars. To release, I instructed my fingers to carefully slide off. With hard work, I finally made it across swimmingly.
Perseverance -- that really is the key to success, or at least my success. You never know what you're capable of unless you try. No matter how hard life hits you in the face, hit it back harder and prove that you are a survivor. After years of dedication and persistence, I can basically do everything others can accomplish, but in a slightly different way. For example, I apply my eyeliner and do the dishes with one hand. I also have taught myself how to put my hair into a ponytail and even obtained my driver's license.
Do I call my condition a disability? Absolutely not. I call it my strength. Don't be discouraged if you cannot do something, because you can. Look around you -- time is not moving any slower. Take advantage of the opportunities you wish to achieve. You can't succeed unless you try, and if you tried and failed -- try again because you have the power to choose your own destiny and future. With hard work and positivity, everything eventually pays off.
