I've known many of you for a while now. Friendships forged over dinner and drinks, or over wall balls, push-ups and sweat. Last night someone asked me "so what happened?" I realized many people are probably curious but don't want to ask.
First, it's ok to ask and discuss.... hell even some of you that I've known for years enjoying cracking jokes. I enjoy cracking jokes. It's all ok. I acknowledge that it is hard to know if it's ok to ask. For people that pick up a "challenge", or "disability" later in life, they may not want to talk about. They may not have accepted it. For those of us born with it, it really isn't a challenge and certainly not a disability. It is only what we know. I don't get offended at being called disabled, challenged or handicapped but I don't think of it that way.
Second, I'll tell the story.
As you gathered from above, I was born with a birth defect in my right arm. It is called a "
radial club" and my case is considered severe. The cause is unknown but it is not genetic and therefore, not hereditary. Your forearm contains two bones, the radius and ulna. As you develop in the womb, the radius grows into the first three fingers (thumb, index, and middle). Likewise, the ulna grows into the ring and pinky fingers. In addition to forming the set of 5 fingers, the two bones also allow the rotation of your forearm AND the function of the elbow. In my case, I formed without my right ulna.
My lack of ulna obviously means I didn't get the right ring and pinky fingers (thank goodness the wedding ring goes on the left hand). This is the most obvious trait and what most focus on but not the most difficult trait. The lack of ulna also means not rotation of my forearm and no bending of the elbow which require a lot more adaptation. More on that in a moment. When I was born, my right arm was turned backward at the elbow. The easiest way to picture it is when I would stand, my right arm would rest BEHIND me. It's a great position to scratch your butt, but not much else.
I was blessed with smart parents who took me to an orthopedist. That orthopedist was Dr. Marks and he made a few decisions that dramatically altered my life. When I was five, I underwent surgery where he broke my arm, reset and rebuilt it to rest in FRONT of me. As a 5 year old, it sucked. I still remember puking on the kitchen floor when my parents told me of the impending surgery. I remember kicking and screaming bloody murder before the shots went into each thigh (it took three people to hold me down). I also remember sitting up right after and declaring "that wasn't so bad". I'm sure the nurse wanted to kill me at this point :D
Afterwards, I had to wear a cast for a long while. After the swelling went down, the damn thing had a habit of falling off... a lot. I'll never forget waking up in the pitch black of my grandma's house and, through the faint hallway light, seeing silhouette of my arm riddled with stitches. I totally freaked but then later I decided it was cool. To wrap this up, I had 1 other surgery and then stitches removed. After a little bit of therapy (physical not mental), I was declared "good to go"!
As one would expect, throughout my life I have experienced moments of ridicule, teasing, and people telling me what I couldn't do. But honestly, these times were the EXCEPTION not the rule. In large part, I have experienced acceptance or even more surprising, forgetfulness. When people are around me for a while, they tend to forget. That leads to some hilarious conversations at times.
Me: "My hands are so cold."
Them: "Wanna borrow my gloves?"
Me: "How many fingers do they have?"
Them: "10, why? .... er..... oh yeah..."
Of course, I'm not offended they forgot. I get a huge laugh out of it. It just shows you that most people will accept if given the chance.
The times of teasing and "you can't do it" were just enough to bend me, making me stronger, more accepting of others, and exceedingly willful.
My other fortune came from my exceedingly smart mom: When I was in 2nd grade, I had a substitute teacher tell me that she would get her church to pray for me and Jesus would miraculously heal my "affliction". I was so excited to tell my mom when I got home. What did mom say? "Why would you want to change? You are perfect the way you are." It wasn't those exact words, but the message was there. It would have been easy for her to say "the lady is a nut job and Jesus won't fix your hand." But she used it as a moment to reinforce my uniqueness, have me embrace it, and never want to change it. If someone offered me an arm transplant tomorrow, I'd refuse.
So this all sounds inspiring and perfect. I struggle at times just like anyone else. There are things I simply cannot do with a radial club. I want to climb a rope, I want to do a muscle up. I'm not sure it will ever happen but I will keep trying until it really is futile. My fortune is that there are so many things that I CAN do or that I can LEARN to do. That is what I try to focus on, not always successfully, but mostly so.
People have told me I inspire them. Honestly, I have a hard time accepting that. I'm out there for exceedingly selfish reasons, I want to look good for
my smoking hot wife. But like most things in my life: I'll take it, I'll embrace it, I'll do my best to live up to it.
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