Acupuncture: Part 2

If you ever go to acupuncture, make a mental note of how you feel before. It's difficult to assess improvement when you don't remember the "before" picture. Despite my not realizing this, I still felt that my shoulder was looser after the first session. After the second session I did too. The second one was nice because after the first one loosened up certain areas of my shoulder, I really noticed the most restricted parts and was able to have the woman focus there this time. I don't think my everyday function has really been improved but my shoulder almost feels more normal. I just feel like I can shake it around a little more now. If I go back, I'll be interested to see if getting the needles more in my arm and hand will allow other improvements. I'm not sure what I was really expecting from acupuncture but I was pleasantly surprised because of that. But I'm sure it's different for everyone. I also had it on my hamstring and I don't think it really helped there so that's just a reminder that it's not gonna help everything. I'd love to hear any other acupuncture stories out there! Send me a message :)

Comparing & Understanding

When people try to compare my brachial plexus injury to the temporary injuries of other people:

"Lise she's just like you!"

"Lise look you have a twin!"

"My friend hurt his elbow last night and now he's like you!"

Well, not exactly. A broken wrist or sore shoulder doesn't really measure up to a torn nerve that has left my arm this way for my entire life.

I'm sorry that you can't turn your hand over this week or that it hurts to put your arm above your head today but comparing that to my permanent inability is honestly an insult. I appreciate the attempt at understanding but comparing the troubles of two different people has always been my least favorite form of coping and especially in this case.

I get that for most everyone, it is impossible to wrap your head around the thought of never having full ability in one arm and so I've never held one of these comments against someone. But sometimes I do wish people would just understand that they can't understand and so it is not their place to make a comparison or a joke in this way.

Mostly I wish that all of you with brachial plexus injuries understand that these comments come from the attempt to understand and so they should never offend you. No matter how much it feels like you are the only one who understands what it's like, you aren't. I do! We all do! Still sympathize with those that you know don't and when you need it, turn to us for empathy. 

Acupuncture

Oddly enough, the needles weren't the worst part. I've never been one of those people who gets nauseous at the sight of a needle or anything near that so that part I got over (not to mention they're so small I don't even know if they qualify as needles). I felt a little prick on only a couple and even the electric current she hooked up to some of them felt strange but nothing ever hurt. 

What got me was the staying still. I've always been the person who cannot stay in one position for a long time. I'm that kid in class who's always shifting in her seat and I wake up with my covers off the bed because I move around so much. So when there was a bunch of needles in me and the lady left the room to leave them in for "a few minutes," I struggled. One obviously cannot shift position when there are needles everywhere. And it didn't help that her idea of "a few minutes" was many more than the general idea of "a few." But somehow I ignored the itch on my shoulder and my nagging urge just to move a little and I got through it.

Now for anyone considering acupuncture, do it. There's really nothing to be afraid of. Everyone will think you're super cool when they find out you spent your afternoon with needles all over you and it just might help loosen up your muscles. It's hard to tell after one session, but I do think it helped my shoulder and I think a couple more will only make it even better. You have nothing to lose!

A New Team

Oh the joy of a new group of people bound to ask why I avoid taking throw ins, can't do push ups, and don't swing my arm when I run. High school soccer season is here and since 11 of our team graduated last year, this year's team is very new and young. Meaning they don't know me. Or my injury.

"Why are you only lifting one weight? Why do you run like that? Why aren't you planking with us?" 

The inevitable questions that I have answered innumerable times. Yet somehow, they still come. And I still answer. And people still laugh or don't respond or come up with 47 more questions. Sometimes I think I've been well trained for when I'm a mother in several years and my kids go through their curious stages. I've spent a large portion of my life answering the same questions over and over and I just have to make sure it increases rather than decreases my patience. 

MOVING

Today, well technically yesterday I guess (oops), my family moved out of the only house I've ever lived in. My body is sore from carrying boxes and my mind is beyond confused by seeing all our stuff set up somewhere that isn't home. I can't really believe that I won't pull into that driveway again or step foot in our beloved treehouse. I grew up there and for my last six months or so at home before heading off to college, I have to grow up within a different set of walls.

It's funny that we can get so attached to what's really just a bunch of walls. But truly, that's not all it is. It's the memories within them and the neighbors beyond them. It's the comfort and the routine and the common ground (literally and figuratively) it provides with so many people. I don't know how to live at a different address. But I know I'll learn. We fear change but it's also what we thrive on. Whether it's a new job, school, friend, routine, law, car, or place, it's what allows us to grow. I may have spent seventeen years growing up in one house but I'm going to spend the next six months discovering these new walls that will help me be someone I never could have been had we stayed. That's what change does for us. 

"And everybody's hands go UP!"

But...I can't. 

"And they stay there!"

But...I really, really can't...

Thank you pop music for seemingly always telling us to throw our hands in the air. Because I love being reminded that it really isn't possible. Because I love throwing one hand in the air when everyone else puts up two. Because I love the strange looks I get when I can't put my hands up!!!

Thank you, DJ Khaled. Thank you to Miley Cyrus, Rihanna, Outkast, Backstreet Boys, Black Eyed Peas, and Paula Abdul. I hope my one-armed fist pumping doesn't offend you. 

P.S. You should know-- even without BPI, we've all been tired of that lyric for longer than you think. 

Horace Pippin

My mother and I spent Veteran's Day (this past Tuesday) at an art gallery downtown, and my favorite piece in the exhibit was by an American artist named Horace Pippin. Though I enjoyed many of the other styles just as much, Pippin's painting actually caught my attention because of his story. 

While fighting in World War I, Pippin was shot badly, and he ultimately lost the use of his right arm. Upon return from the war, he took up drawing again for the first time since he was a small child. The war had deeply affected him and it influenced much of his art. But, being right-handed, he had to relearn how to draw. Instead of teaching himself with his left hand, Pippin propped up his right arm and guided it with his left. And there in that exhibit was one of his paintings. An exhibit honoring the best artists from Post-Impressionism to Pop art. His painting among those of Kandinsky, Pollock, Warhol, Kahlo, O'Keefe, and many more. He was one of the best at a profession entirely dependent on the skill of his right hand. 

So what's my excuse? 

Fear

The world is full of scary people, places, ideas, and events. We know this. We spend much of our lives being told this. Usually though, we take a moment to acknowledge it and then move on. Terrible things happen and we know it but for many people, it's a myth they don't truly recognize. Until one of those things happens, it's hard to. This world is scary. There are people living their lives in fear because they've experienced the things that forced them to recognize the myth. Things that forced them to never forget that it isn't actually a myth. Bad things happen. But living in fear is the worst thing of all. Allowing one bad event to take away your life is far more destructive than all of those terrible things. We have to take control. We cannot let the bad take away our lives. We can't stay home or hold back or miss out because of fear. Fear does not control you. Control it. 

Halloween

Halloween: the one night of the year when it's socially acceptable to pretend to be somebody else. Which is why I know that even if they took away the free candy, we'd still love it. For 364 days a year we get to be ourselves and that is absolutely fantastic, but we must admit that the 365th day is a nice break. Being yourself always comes with expectations and labels and constant responsibility right? Being Batman or a lumberjack or a princess on October 31st comes with none of that. You can say it's just a costume but it never is. Whether we like it or not, we become different people on Halloween and personally, I love it. It's when we try to be other people that we learn the most about ourselves. 

We Don't Always Need a Pat on the Back

"Oh that's nice, you can play soccer because it's a sport that doesn't require your arm! Well as long as you don't play goalie... *har har har*"

I guess this is a statement designed to make me feel happy that I can be normal and play a sport? But to anyone reading this who is the friend, aunt, boyfriend, or even stranger to someone with BPI: please don't say this or really anything like it.

Yes, we want to feel normal but giving me a big pat on the back for being able to do something that isn't even affected by my injury isn't really all that rewarding. Don't give in to the stigma that my life is always dictated by it. And actually, arms aren't only for goalies in soccer! There do happen to be throw-ins just about every minute. And when you play feisty teams, arms are pretty important to defend yourself when fighting for the ball. Especially the shoulder. Oh and running! It's not all in the legs. My left arm and even my back is just as sore as my thighs the day after a game because pumping my arms to keep up with everyone else doesn't come so easy. So yes, thank you, it is nice I can play soccer. But not because it lets me avoid my injury. I played both basketball and softball for a long time and I don't think there's any arguments there that those sports require no arm strength. I play soccer because I like it and I'll have you know that I had a diving save on a penalty kick on my rec team a few years ago...so yeah I could play goalie if I wanted.

Don't Tell Me What I Can't Do

For any fans out there of TV show Lost, you probably recognize this title. John Locke, bound to a wheelchair after an unfortunate accident, was often seen shouting it at people. John was tired of being told he couldn't do things when he felt overwhelmingly like he still could. I think we all feel a little like Mr. Locke sometimes. Growing up with a brachial plexus injury is a lot of people telling you that you can't do this or that. I know it's driven me to absolutely hate when anyone tells me what to do, what not to do, or how to do it. I resent anyone who tries to take control of my life because I feel like my childhood had enough of that. But life is full of people telling you what to do. From bosses to family to the government, we are bound by certain rules just like John's wheelchair and my BPI and as much as I believe we should make our own decisions, I've realized that I'm not a little girl anymore and taking advice from someone doesn't mean giving up control of my life. It means growing up and recognizing I don't always know best. So when someone tells you what you can't do, smile and ask them to help you figure out what you can. 

GOAL

Reminder: little victories are always the most gratifying. From sleeping an extra fifteen minutes to cleaning your room to finishing a math assignment or painting your nails nicely, these are the mini conquests that determine a day is a good one. Today my little victory was actually a piece of a big defeat. A goal in my soccer game. Now let me start by saying my team isn't very good. I was looking for fun in place of competitiveness this year but it's really only given me chronic frustration. But today there was a miracle: a goal. From my very own head! The giddiness lasted through halftime when the club's director dubbed it the prettiest goal of the year from any of the club's teams. After laughing when I pointed out that was a good thing considering it was one of less than few for us, we headed back on the field. Within minutes, the high was over and we left with a 3-1 loss. And it would be an understatement to say my frustration had returned. But oh well. I scored the prettiest goal of our entire club and I'm choosing to be happy about that now, just as I choose to let my left arm's little victories make my day. Turning the steering wheel with just my left hand or picking up my pencil with it or giving a high-five or eating or waving or typing. My big defeat is its everlasting lack of normalcy but my mini conquests are beyond enough to get me through each day with a smile on my face. 

Fitting In

I got a question this week about dealing with fitting in and I realized it was a really good topic that I haven't fully covered. Fitting in is something everyone deals with. With BPI, it can be a lot more difficult. It's hard for us to be cheerleaders, athletes, dancers, students, let alone just look normal walking around and that makes fitting in a daunting task. But I think what's important to remember is that those that try the hardest to fit in create the worse situations for themselves. Sure, it's pretty hard to live in this world when you don't fit in but it's even harder when a fake version of yourself fits in. As I've said before, your injury doesn't define you so don't let it. Nobody's normal. You are as abnormal as the kid who sits next to you in science or the head cheerleader or the president of your class. Nobody really fits in. So stop trying! I know I tried for a very long time to fit in with a group of people that was very different from me. I can tell you that it isn't any fun. But when I realized that, I spent some time on my own and as cheesy as it is, it really helped me figure out what kind of person I am. Then I was able to meet new people who I did fit with. I'm not saying what I did was easy because it was far from it, but in the end I'm so much happier with myself. So don't try to fit in. Be yourself (and it's totally okay if you don't know who that it is yet, just do what makes you happy) and you will find the right people. You will find the ones that make you smile all day long, the ones who don't care about your arm, the ones who support you. No one fits in with everyone so please please please don't try. It's absolutely no fun. Besides, no one can deal with that many people. If it's a good one, one friend can be plenty and there is nothing wrong with that.

I love hearing from you guys, please shoot me a message if you have any questions, suggestions, or just want to talk :) Have a good week everyone!

Camp

What was supposed to be an exciting and relaxing weekend for my mother and I turned entirely chaotic on Friday. After a couple college visits in Chicago, we were scheduled to calmly arrive in St. Louis on Friday evening. Things went awry when a man set fire to the radar control center for Chicago airports. Our flight was cancelled. Rescheduled. Cancelled again. Just a few hours before my mom was supposed to be speaking for a couple hundred people in St. Louis. And a couple more hours before I was supposed to be speaking for the entire UBPN (United Brachial Plexus Network) camp. After racing into a too-expensive, smoke-smelling rental car and throwing ourselves in the direction of our destination, we realized we would be too late. Mom missed her speaking gig by a half hour but somehow we arrived at the camp 20 minutes before I was on. My stomach was quietly wishing it was the other way around. How was I supposed to inspire this room full of dozens of strangers? The familiar bend in their elbows and tendency to favor one side was terrifying. Like looking in the mirror to find a stranger. Or a giant room full of them. I hadn't talked to someone else with BPI in years and yet here I was in front of a room full of them tasked with the job to tell them something they hadn't heard before. Tell them something that would change their lives. I had so much to say but suddenly so much of it seemed so arbitrary. Nothing was enough. Like always, words simply weren't enough. But that's all I had. So I spoke. And even though we stayed for less than 24 hours, I'm sure I learned more from the kids, teenagers, and adults than they learned from me in my 30-minute "speech." I was sent to inspire but I was inspired. By the kids playing volleyball by catching. By the adults who hadn't gotten it at birth and had only recently begun their journeys to relearn how to live. By the babies smiling and playing without a worry. And by the teenage girls dealing with being the butt of the joke in high school. I learned from the little stories of compensation and the big stories of overcoming. I had been so focused on what I would say to these people that I hadn't given myself time to think about what I would get out of the weekend. It wouldn't matter because they gave me more than I could've imagined.  

Birthdays

A birthday is a funny thing to celebrate. Yay you exist! Yay you made it another year! Shouldn't we celebrate our mothers on our birthdays? They're the ones who did all the work however many years ago. They went through all that pain so you could live so shouldn't we congratulate them each year? That makes more sense to me...

Additionally, a birthday for me or for anyone with a birth injury seems like a strange thing to celebrate. Yay 17 years ago today was when the doctor messed up so your life could be just a little more difficult! But like always, there's a bright side to celebrating this anniversary. We don't only celebrate things to remember what happened on that day many years ago. It's also to recognize the time that has passed between that day and today. A one-year wedding anniversary is different than a 50-year one. A birthday when you're two is different than when you're 75. So I'm not choosing to see my birthday as a reminder of a day when things went wrong. I choose to see it as a day that recognizes all the years I have overcome my brachial plexus injury. All the years in which I have learned to live with it and explain it and move past it. As of yesterday, I have 17 years of this behind me. And that was the hard part. It can only get better from here right?

Role Models

What would we be without people to look up to? Nearly everything we are is a culmination of all that we have learned from others. Role models come in all different shapes and sizes. They can be parents or celebrities or teachers or strangers or friends or siblings or neighbors or cousins or coaches or characters or grandparents or anything in between. I think the best role models are the ones we don't even realize are influencing us. The ones we find ourselves acting like months later and we're so happy we could become even just that little bit like them.

Of course, throughout our lives we face a lot of bad teachers and coaches and strangers and friends as well. But they're what make the good ones stand out. They're the ones who help us choose who to learn from. I've had a lot of horrible soccer coaches and math teachers and even friends. I've met a lot of strangers with whom I hope I have nothing in common. There are countless celebrities and book characters who have shown me what not to do and how not to act. And we must be grateful for all of them too. It's like the saying that the bad things help us appreciate the good things. I think we too often forget that. Nothing's special without a whole lot surrounding it that isn't special at all. We have to wade through that swamp to get to what's good for us. To get to the people that add up to who we are. 

Life can only be incredibly difficult without good role models. I've been blessed with too many of them which I think is a good problem to have. But there are so many kids and even adults who don't have this privilege. Role models can be found everywhere and I encourage those people to seek them out because they are always found in the most unlikely places. We all dream of being role models but we can only get there by following great role models of our own. 

Common App Essay Prompt #1

Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

So would my college application be incomplete without it? Is it that central to my identity? Should it be?

These are rhetorical questions. Or, more accurately, questions I'm asking myself. Maybe college applications are so extensive because they're about making you figure out who you are, not just the college. I'm not going to write up my college essay on here (sorry), in fact I'm finding it very difficult to write something I'm not putting in my essay. But I hope you're all looking forward to this day when being able to share your story will make college application essays a little less of a chore. Even if you find it strange to learn about yourself while writing an essay to teach other people about yourself... That's how this blog feels a lot of the time. So thanks for helping me learn about myself, everybody. 

Reactions

Brachial plexus injuries spark all sorts of reactions. Whether a person notices or I tell him or her, people respond in a variety of ways. Some people just have no idea how to respond, some people immediately pity me, some people laugh, some people are surprised they've never noticed before, some people are amazed that I've dealt with it, some people just say they're sorry, some people ask a million questions, some people change the subject, some people don't believe me, and on and on and on. Something so rare and confusing can scare or amaze or anything in between and that's okay! I feel like you always hear stories about people getting really upset about insensitive comments by strangers about their insecurities or injuries or whatever it may be but with BPI, I don't see the point. I was born like this and I will live like this and maybe 99% of the people I meet haven't or don't or won't understand this part of my life so I've seen pretty much every reaction you can imagine and I'm okay with them all. I think I used to be really sensitive about it but why should I? Why should I be hurt by it when no one but me knows how my life has been changed by it? Once again, they don't understand and that's okay. It's okay if they want to and try to or if they don't want to and have no interest in talking about it or if they nervously laugh it off or whatever because I should never expect someone to understand or know exactly what to say to something they would never expect. And I hope none of you do either. No one's trying to hurt you so don't let them. You have to remember that you've been learning about BPI your whole life when the majority of the world has never even heard of it. They will react how they react and we gotta just let it bounce right off of us. 

Understanding

We are difficult people to understand. It's rarely simple for any particular person to understand even the medical implications of BPI, so to understand the implications that ripple beyond our mere body structure and physical ability is nearly impossible. But that's okay. Because understanding people in general is not easy. I'm not sure if I've said this before but understanding another person completely isn't probable. I can know your favorite food and your saddest moment and your worst enemy and your happiestmemory and your greatest dreams and desires but that doesn't mean I understand you. No one's brain works the same and no one can hear another's thoughts and no one can truly understand another person. At least that's what I believe. I don't mean that we can't connect with people on levels we didn't even think possible. We can love people more than anything. We can often know a person better than him or herself but I still don't believe it qualifies as understanding that person. Because as hard as we try, we can never walk a day in someone else's shoes, let alone think a day in his brain or relive a moment from her past or feel this person's dreams. Humans are personal and complicated beings and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

I spent much of my 4 weeks in Mexico thinking about this. I was surrounded by indigenous families who had memories and dreams and clothes and homes and traditions and beliefs and daily lives much much different than mine or those of nearly anyone I'd ever met. They spoke a different language and grew up in a situation far from similar to anything I'd ever seen but I still tried my best to understand them. And through all that trying, I realized that it was only an extreme version of what we try at every day. We are always trying to understand each other. Reaching for an infinity that is of course impossible to achieve. It doesn't matter that the differences between me and a 5-year-old girl in this community were far greater than the differences between me and the girl who sits next to me in math. All that matters is that every moment spent with these girls is spent in an attempt to understand them better. And though I never fully will, I don't regret trying. We should never regret trying. Because how could we survive without people reaching out to us. How could we ever get anything done if we didn't try to get to know the person sitting across from us. I, and many others with brachial plexus injuries, spend a lot of my time trying to help people understand me. Isn't that the point of this entire blog? To help us understand ourselves and to help others understand us? And maybe you and they will never reach complete understanding but maybe that's a good thing. Because we are personal and complicated beings and I wouldn't have it any other way. Privacy is a kind of therapy we all need. 

Language

Am I the only one who, during an extended stay in a foreign country, went through phases of first really hating and second really appreciating language and then back and forth and back and forth again?

In the beginning I was very mad at language. My dear friend Google informs me that there are about 6,500 languages spoken around the world today. Most of us can only speak fluently in one. 1 out of 6,500. I spent a large portion of my time in Mexico being really angry at the 6,499 languages that had the power to build a wall between me and the millions of people in the world who speak them. I was really mad because I realized that there are millions of people in the world that I will never have the privilege of knowing because they weren't raised speaking English and I wasn't raised speaking French or Japanese or Russian or Czech or Mandarin or Nahautl or German and as a result we have no form of communication. And that also makes me incredibly sad. And sure, I speak a decent amount of Spanish and did have the privilege of getting to know dear friends from Mexico and Spain in the past month but there were too many moments when I realized that it would take forever for me to get to a level with my Spanish that would allow me to be as close to them as I am with my closest friends back home. But there were also moments when all I could do was marvel at language's ability to connect us in ways that would have been absolutely impossible without it. It was amazing to put to use all my years of studying Spanish and actually see their tangibility in the real world. And even as weird as it was to speak English when I came back, I was so grateful for the ease in which I could communicate again. Almost without thought, I could say whatever I wanted to say and I could understand absolutely everything!

So forgetting my brief hatred for language, I've found that it's really an asset we never think about or appreciate. Humans can connect on so many levels and for that we forget to be grateful. We have the power to understand so many people even if you don't speak one of the most popular of the 6,500. And we have the power to learn more languages in order to shrink the wall looming at 6,499. So have a conversation with the person in front of you in line at the coffee shop and sitting next to you on the train and learn more languages and ask your family members more questions and tell your friends everything. Because we can :)

Summer

I leave this week for a month long trip to Mexico which will be completely cut off from all internet, etc. so blogging is calling for a summer break. I'm sorry for the lack of posting but I hope everyone is having a fabulous summer and I promise to have lots to write about when I return. 

Just Talk

I spend a lot of time avoiding talking about my injury. It's always such an awkward subject because it's so rare and personal and confusing so I usually try to avoid it. Despite my efforts, it of course has to come up a decent amount. Especially when my mom's around...(I love you mom). But no matter how many times I've told the story of how it happened and what it means, etc., I don't think that really qualifies as talking about it. Once it's origin is clear, people tend to stop asking questions. I guess it sounds like (and in all honesty, is) a touchy subject so no one dares to probe further. But it's important for me to talk about it beyond the simple story. This blog was started to help all of you but in the process I found my own therapy. BPI is not an easy subject to talk about. I'm not sure it ever will be either, at least for me because it doesn't matter if I post an essay on here every week, writing isn't the same as looking someone in the eye and telling them how my injury has totally altered my life. So maybe I need to start talking about it. Last week, I did kind of talk about it. My sister has been struggling with a shoulder injury from water polo and after telling my mom all of the ways it has restricted her, she turned to me and said "I've gained a lot of respect for you, Lise." I guess after weeks of dealing with pain and limitation affecting her everyday life, she had related it to me. She understood it wasn't the exact same thing but that didn't matter. I'm not sure my mother or sister realized but the short and simple conversation it started meant a lot to me. We just started talking a lot about my injury and it's the most in-depth conversation I think I've ever had about it. I tried to explain to them a lot of aspects I don't think anyone understands about living with BPI and just seeing their listening faces was another form of therapy. The thing about having a birth injury is that when you're young, you're either too little to understand it and then later you're still too little to really talk about it and for people to really imagine that it's a major factor in your life. A lot of people expect that we are used to it and that's by no means an incorrect assumption but just because we're used to it, doesn't make it easy. There are many ways in which it only gets harder. The point is that BPI is not about who or what destroyed your shoulder and how it generally physically affects you. As I've said before, it's always about the little things that no one else even thinks about. I just think it's important not to focus on it's background and physical effect but the way in which you approach it so you can stop it from affecting your mental health as well. I promise there are people who want to listen to all that you have to say about it...beyond the "how it happened." I'm one of them. It doesn't have to be awkward, you simply have to talk. It's all about the details...don't forget about the details.

It's so late, I'm sorry this so jumbled...thank you for sticking with me. 

Rethinking

I might be just missing my Sunday deadline (even on the east coast) but just a quick thought.

People are almost always better than they seem...I think sometimes spending our lives in the same routines in the same places with the same people make us forget this. At least I forget it. I often find myself resenting people before I talk to them and holding grudges for far too long but I need to start reminding myself that most people are truly good people. I've been on a trip with my mom and the number of random and surprisingly kind people that we've run into is much larger than I would have ever expected. I need to stop telling myself that people are bad because I've only been focusing on the wrong people. The bad is always easier to remember but I'm vowing to make the Norwegian mother and daughter, the nice couple with the pit bull, and the refreshingly cheerful toll worker stick in my mind. People mess up and say bad things and do bad things but that doesn't make for bad people. They do a lot of good too. So try and remember with me all the wonderful people you talk to everyday, ran into only once, or even those whom you haven't seen in far too long. They have helped you and will help you and they are the people who get us through the hard stuff every day. They are the people we have to remember. People are good. 

Identity

This weekend at my sister's college graduation has been a lot of listening. From countless conversations with parents and friends that I don't really know (and probably never really will know) to speeches upon speeches, it has been a lot of listening. But not pointless listening. Not just background noise to the food I'm eating or the thoughts about how uncomfortable this chair is, but noise worth listening to, worth paying attention to. Noise worth hearing.

One speech made by the class orator spoke a lot about identity and about the general direction in which our world is heading to change relations, stereotypes, and discrimination by race, gender, and sexuality. But I think what he said can apply to more than those groups. I think we can easily apply it to our "identity" as BPI's. The orator preached that we need to stop focusing on what makes us different and rather focus on how we are similar. So much of living with a brachial plexus injury is recognizing how we are different and how that is affecting us. But we forget that we're really not all that special. That we can identify with a brachial plexus injury but really we should identify with everyone. Because no one is perfect. No one is happy with everything about their body. No one is capable of doing everything. Everyone does things differently, and that makes us the same. In order to change this world into a more united one, we need to start noticing this. We have to start noticing that segregation didn't end 50 years ago. That we all segregate ourselves by our "identities" every day. It's okay to be similar to someone other than those with whom you identify. It's okay for us to stop making groups for ourselves, for us to start forgetting about our differences and start recognizing our similarities. 

Uneven

I think one of the reasons it's hard for people without BPI to comprehend what it means for those of us that do is because they see it as an isolated problem. A simple shoulder injury that affects only actions in need of a left (or right) shoulder. But that's not the case at all. Not only does it affect my hand, elbow, fingers, and general strength but my brachial plexus injury also slightly throws off my entire body. My back is affected, my neck is affected, my hip, even my legs! My BPI doesn't just restrict me when I need two arms but in many other situations. I've been noticing this in yoga lately. Pretty much every yoga pose, or at least a variation of it, is made awkward by my left shoulder. From warrior two to downward dog to tree pose to even forward fold and child's pose! Focusing on my breath in yoga is made difficult by the constant attention that my uneven body demands. And these continuously uneven poses are most likely only throwing off my body even more. My downward dog leans and my forward fold stretches my right leg more than my left. Besides yoga, carrying  more than two things quickly gets uncomfortable, pulling up my pants is uneven, shampooing my hair, driving, even sleeping. Noticing my unevenness makes me claustrophobic in my own body and let me tell you, that is a horrible feeling. BPI would be easier to deal with if it was only detrimental for my shoulder. I really wish it was. And I wouldn't expect anyone without a brachial plexus injury to realize that it isn't. But maybe this helped those of you understand a little better. 

Taking a Step Back

2 nights ago, a 22-year-old man went on a shooting rampage on the campus of my own brother's college, UCSB. I was obviously relieved to hear that my brother wasn't affected but knowing that he heard gunshots and was across the street from a man seeking revenge on sorority girls is more than a little scary. If you've heard all the news about the man and his plan, I'm sure you share my concern. Of course there was surely a lot of different factors that will once again spark controversy, as every other shooting has. I don't want to get into all that. I just want to express how grateful I am that my brother and everyone he knows is doing well and how sad I am for the lives lost and their families. I guess at a time like this I just want to take a break from talking about what we all don't have and I'm just hoping that this post has found you all in good shape and thankful for all that you do have. 

Pictures

Always awkward right? Prom reminded me of how frustrating my left arm is when getting pictures taken. Left hand on hip...awkward. Left arm around a date...awkward. And worst of all, being in the middle of a group photo so I have to do each arm around someone...SO AWKWARD. It's hard to get my arm to even do those things and then to also have to make it photogenic is a disaster. My prom photos will attest to the difficulty and awkwardness that a brachial plexus injury brings to fancy poses.

Honestly though, I can complain but in actuality, it's not really all that noticeable. Of course I notice because I'm looking for it and of course it felt extremely uncomfortable in the moment but to the general public viewing these pictures, I look (mostly) normal. So remember, for future (or past) dances or weddings or whichever special occasion it may be, that initial awkward moment of pulling your hand onto your hip or making him switch his arm to be below yours will most definitely be forgotten if it's even noticed in the first place and even better, those pictures will fail to capture that embarrassment. So DON'T WORRY. I know my BPI is not the worst of the worst but I truly think that on these special occasions, people aren't looking at an awkward shoulder no matter how awkward. They're admiring your beautiful dress (or suit) and hair and shoes and even your date...You'll stand out because of all that, not the awkward shoulder :)

Mommy's Day

Happy Mother's Day everybody! Still being in the middle of AP tests, I'm not so sure how great of a thankful daughter I'm being today but you know I wish I could spend every second with you today, Mom. Even though I slept in and Dad made breakfast and I'm spending a lot of today studying and doing homework and even leaving for a couple hours to go to an AP review, this day is all about you!!!

Mother's Day sometimes seems kind of silly because you can't fit enough "thank you's" in one day to accurately represent everything your mother has done for you. I know my mom will laugh at this because she makes fun of me for how much I love Jimmy Fallon but I think he says it best:

So as much as you all make today special for your mothers, I think it's important to remember that they deserve that treatment for more than just today. I know we will never be able to buy enough tulips or brunches for our moms to show them how important they have been, are, and always will be to us but maybe it's enough to give them a reason to be proud of us every day. My mom deals with the worst sides of me but I try to make up for it in hugs and laughs and chores and small deeds and I think we all should remember that every day is Kids' Day so one day for mom isn't quite enough. 

I know my mom has put so much into making my life the best it can be through my brachial plexus injury and that alone can only be made up for in my own perseverance to take advantage of what she's helped me to already achieve. You are the best mommy and I hope you know how grateful I am for everything you do for me every day. 

And I hope all of you make your mothers feel special today and every day!

Stress

AP testing leaves no blogging time. So sorry. 

a short sentence for a late night

"what screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it is supposed to be"

Sleeping

Being as I'm extremely tired, this seemed like an appropriate topic. I'm sure many of you know that it's better to sleep on your back rather than your side...I learned this just months ago and was pretty upset because I always sleep on my side. But I did start trying to sleep on my back and I found that whenever I did, I felt much better the next day. I think especially with my BPI, it's better for my back and shoulder to sleep on my back. Sleeping on my side rolls my shoulder forward even more and I think that might even be contributing to that annoying habit. I'm going to try to start sleeping on my back as much as possible even though it's difficult because I never stay in the same place all night. I encourage you all to try sleeping on your back too because I really do think it makes you feel better, BPI or not. Sleep well everyone and have a great week!

My Biggest Regret

A couple weeks ago I said I couldn't think of a regret regarding the way I grew up with my brachial plexus injury. But I think I've figured it out now. I can't pinpoint the exact time or an exact moment because I was young and it was a certain gradual process that I regret so I guess that's why I couldn't think of anything before. But, my big regret is allowing myself to slowly use my left arm less and less.

After I stopped going to physical therapy, I got to a point where I didn't see why I should keep trying to do everything normally because it didn't feel possible most of the time. I was tired of being disappointed in my inability to use my left arm in most situations so I just stopped paying attention to it. I don't wish I'd kept going to physical therapy or that someone was always reminding me to eat with my left arm or stretch my left arm because I probably would have just come to resent it even more but I do wish that I myself hadn't given up. I stopped trying because it felt impossible and I've always thought that was the stupidest way to live life. How do you know something's impossible if you don't try? And why stop doing something you want or something that's good for you?

I don't think I gave up on purpose. I don't remember ever making a conscious decision to try and just forget about my left arm and do everything I could with my right one but subconsciously over time I gave up. I was afraid of failure and all that and that's my biggest regret. Because if I hadn't given up on it, if I had kept trying to use my arms like any normal person, I think I would be more comfortable with my left arm and it would be in better shape. 

When I did my two week project of trying to use my left arm more, I was embarrassed and uncomfortable all over again. I felt like a little girl trying to learn how to use her arm properly and I hated it. It was like I was back in elementary school attempting to be normal. If I had stuck with it when I was younger, maybe I wouldn't be going through it once again. It's strange to look back and wonder how different I would be if I had kept my life revolved around my arm. In a way, I definitely grew as a person on my own because I kind of left it behind. I didn't let it hold me back because doing everything with my brachial plexus injury in mind was not only draining, but limiting. So maybe I don't regret it. But I'll never know how things could've ended up if I had stuck with it. I just have to hope that none of you give up on yourselves because you think something is impossible. If something is important to you, you have to try! To be fair, sometimes you don't realize that something's important until much later like I am right now so that makes things complicated. Either way, you'll turn out fine as I would have and as I did :)

Changing Routine

Even after the end of the two weeks of trying to use my arm more, I've kept it going. I've honestly found it fun...I don't know why because it started out awkward and embarassing but the longer I've been doing it, the more fun it's become. Maybe it's because I kinda feel like I'm a little girl again because I'm relearning how to do normal things everyday. I've gradually avoided the use of my left arm more and more since I was younger. About since the time when I stopped going to physical therapy I think I stopped caring so much about doing everything normally because it had gotten to the point where I didn't really believe that was possible most of the time like I've talked about before. But now I like using my left arm. It makes things new and different and makes me switch it up which is always good in life in anything. Getting to the point of following a routine over and over makes life no more fun! Every day's gotta be different. I'm enjoying changing it up and it's good for me too :)

Laughing

It's strange to me that there's one innate action that can bring either the most joy or the most pain. Laughing can make awkward situations comfortable, unhappy people happy, and empty hearts full again. But laughing when in a context where others have found a situation hilarious that isn't funny to you at all, can reverse all of the joy that should be laughing's only purpose.

I always kid around, always try and make people laugh, always enjoy being told a good joke. One of my favorite things in the world is seeing someone smile and knowing that I'm the one who put it there. But laughing also has a dark side. Or maybe I should say cackling...or sneering or snickering or smirking. When people laugh at someone. That hurts. And, though I wish it weren't true, I think everyone has been in a situation where they were that someone.

I guess growing up with a brachial plexus injury put me in a lot of those situations. Most of them, people didn't realize they were laughing at me. I had never let on the difficulty of living with BPI or my embarassment because of it or how much I wished I could've just been normal like them and because I didn't show any of that, people didn't think they were laughing at me because they thought I thought it was funny too. They didn't think about living every day with such limitations like I did. I don't think a lot of them even knew the extent of my limitations because I didn't really talk about it and I tried to hide it as much as possible. But for me it felt a lot like being laughed at and it did hurt sometimes. In those situations I think you have two good options.

Option one: You stay serious and explain to them why it's not funny. You can show them that having a life-long injury isn't a joke at all no matter how weird it looks when you run or how funny they think it is that you can't play Pattycake. If you don't think it's funny, it's not and that means they have no right to laugh and you have every right to show them reason to stop. I'm not saying everyone will understand because they won't but if you stand up for yourself, that should give you enough strength inside to stop caring that they're still laughing. Because then it becomes their problem, not yours. This is the brave option and I'd be lying if I told you I was brave most of the time.

Option two (the road I usually took): You laugh with them. I know it sounds bad but if the situation is one a lot like the ones I often faced, the laughers aren't trying to be mean. They honestly don't understand and that's okay because this is a really difficult concept to wrap one's head around. And because of that, I often thought laughing with them was alright because if I was honest with myself, I really did look funny when I ran and my arm just hung by my side and it's kinda funny that I can't snap with my left hand. Those are things that I can live with. Being able to laugh at yourself is an ability I took a long time to learn but it's one that I attribute to gaining through my growth with my BPI.

Everyone has their own theories of deflection and dealing with certain situations like these and I hope you all can find what works for you so that ignorant people don't get to you for silly reasons. Let's keep laughing for joy :)

Family

I was lucky enough to be able to spend this weekend with a lot of family that I rarely get to see. Though it was incredibly full of chaos and accompanied by too many hours of driving and almost nonstop, it was a great few days. I was reminded how fortunate we are to have families who care for us no matter what. Families who, even if we totally embarrass ourselves or completely mess something up, will still love us even more tomorrow. So many people come in and out of our lives and it too often feels like there's no one to count on but I think we still underestimate the power of our families. I am so lucky to have a brother who brings out the wierdest version of me, a sister who brags about me to all her friends, an uncle who does nothing but try and make me laugh, a grandmother who always thinks of the littlest things to make everyone happy, a cousin who makes me feel like we're little kids all over again, a mother who puts up with my teenage angst, a grandfather who I know will never lose his personality that I know and love, an aunt who could get me excited about anything, and a father who makes me proud to be his daughter every day (among many others who I love just as dearly). Each and every one of them has in some way inspired me to be myself through my injury and help all of you reading this in addition. Though I'm sure your families are much different, I know you all have someone to appreciate like I do.

(if this seems cheesy or irrelevant...I'm sorry, it's late)

Motivation

Today I had a session with a student-athlete leadership program that I am a part of and I thought I'd share some of the knowledge I obtained about theories of motivation.

Motivating people is hard (if you haven't already learned that)...You can manipulate people and you can bribe them and you can blackmail them into doing pretty much anything but that's not really motivation (at least how I'm defining it). Motivation is about getting someone to really enjoy what they're doing and to want to do it. Intrinsic reasons, not extrinsic. But before you think about how to motivate someone, you need to understand what you're even motivating them to do. That's when you'll understand exactly how. If I want my child to attend physical therapy like she should, I could say I'll buy her ice cream for every time she goes or I could tell her we're going to Disneyland just so she'll get in the car but that's not motivation! I'm motivating her to get an ice cream or to go to freaking Disneyland which is obviously not the objective. Even if you're motivating yourself to go to physical therapy, you have to remind yourself what you're going to get out of it. That should motivate you. The comfort you will gain. The pain you will be saved from. The ability to accomplish something they said you might not be able to! I could get myself to physical therapy or to do a lot of things in a number of ways but I won't really care about it, really be motivated to work hard at it, unless I find it in myself to see the greater good that I'm achieving. I challenge you guys to find it :)

Regrets?

This week someone asked me what my biggest regret is from when I was younger, regarding my injury. Is there anything I would do differently? I was stumped. I mean first of all I'm not sure how qualified I am to answer this question since my championships on the monkey bars weren't really all that long ago. I'm still just a kid who 10 years from now will probably worry more about the regrets than I can right now. But for now, I'm pretty happy with how I ended up and what I did to get here. I know I've said it a million times but I can't stress enough how important your attitude is from a very young age. It's actually terrifying how much it can change you and being born with BPI doesn't exactly make the task easy on us. But I think I did alright in that department. I was never one to let it stop me and I should really thank my parents for that because they were the ones who made sure every day I was myself and not just a brachial plexus injury. And my 30-year-old-self might point and laugh at the me right now and my fixation on attitude because I'll realize there was many bigger decisions and mistakes and missed opportunities that did or didn't or could have helped me out much more than the perfect "attitude" ever would have but I stand by it. If you're happy, then whether you got that one surgery or went to PT that one day or didn't play that one sport shouldn't really change all that much.

P.S. Reminding yourself what you're proud of or what you've done well every once in a while like I just did is a really great idea to keep that positive attitude :)  Have a great week everyone!

Monkey Bars

When they tell your parents you have a brachial plexus injury, they also tell them a long list of everything you won't be able to do because of it. I didn't crawl, I scooted around on my butt. I couldn't grasp things with my left hand or straighten my elbow. When I ran, it would hang limp at my side instead of pumping like my right arm.

But they also told me I wouldn't ever be able to do a lot of things that I ended up doing.

The monkey bars was one of those.

In elementary school, that was one of the big playground activities. We had a few sets of monkey bars and there were always competitions and tricks and races. It's not that I remember the first time trying the monkey bars but I remember becoming one of the best at them at my school and what I don't remember is ever thinking about my BPI when I was playing on them. Sometimes my arm would cramp up or it would hurt a little and I definitely had to work harder than most to get from bar to bar and still be fast and do tricks but I was just another kid on the monkey bars when I was on that playground. It was a childish game but if I had let the doctors stop me and just sat in defeat telling myself I couldn't do it because of my arm, I honestly think I would have a lot different of an attitude about my BPI and even myself.

It might have been incredibly stupid of me to even try the monkey bars, let alone get so into them and I'm not encouraging anyone to go against doctor's orders but the risk my 5 year-old self took (or just the plain ignorance I had) by climbing all over those monkey bars ultimately payed off.

When you're that young, habits form. How you view yourself from the perspective of your peers shapes who you grow up to be. I wasn't stuck sitting on the sidelines watching all my friends have fun because I wasn't going to let myself become that. I didn't let my BPI determine my participation, fun, self-worth, attitude, or anything beyond that. Of course I know that none of these thoughts were really swarming inside a five year-old's head pushing me to make that decision...I was a smart kid but maybe not that smart. Like I said, I don't even remember the first time I got on those monkey bars but I like to think that something like all of that was what caused me to get up out of the sandbox and jump up there.

I'm not saying don't listen to your doctors. I'm not saying do something you shouldn't just so you're not the outsider. That's not why I played on the monkey bars. All I'm saying is that your BPI doesn't have control over your life and it doesn't define you. Sure you're special but you're also just another kid on the playground.

Enlightened in 3 Ways in 2 Weeks

Well the two weeks are almost over and even after forgetting all the time, my left arm is sore just from doing normal things. It was a hard couple of weeks but I honestly learned way more than I thought I would about how I go about everything every day and there are three main realizations I want to share and hope to keep with me.

First of all, I've just become conscious of everything I do and how I do it. Some days or even every day with certain activities, we go through the motions. We follow a routine that we've become so used to that we don't even think about it. Routines are good and helpful but if what we are trying to attain in life is to "live in the moment," we can't keep going through the motions. It was a rude awakening thinking about what I was doing every second and trying to change it and then realizing that for years I haven't even known or tried to pay attention to how I compensate to floss my teeth or pour a glass of milk. Of course I knew that I've always compensated for a lot of my every day life but it's become such a habit that I don't even know how I'm compensating. Where do our minds go when we follow a routine? After these two weeks, I understand myself better and I know what I need to fix in order to keep my left arm healthy.

The second eye-opener has been my progress. After these two weeks of working my left arm harder than I ever have, it shakes if I try and lift up my phone. But no matter how it seems, I'm not sitting here and telling myself I'm weak because of that. The first few days of this project was a huge struggle. I tried to brush my teeth and I could barely hold onto the toothbrush or navigate it over each tooth. The fine control of my arm, especially my hand and fingers, was atrocious. And as much as I would laugh at myself in the mirror at how terrifyingly focused my face looked when I was trying to complete my nightly routine with my left hand, that focus and that practice made a difference. I haven't gone to physical therapy in a long time but I'm going to use this as my own form of physical therapy because in two weeks I've already seen progress (I'm sorry I sound like a cheesy commercial for a weight loss program). It takes focus but practicing the control of my left side has made that control easier and easier and I have to focus less and less to complete these tasks.

And finally, reinforced in me has been the idea that nothing is ever as bad as it seems. Too often we avoid confrontation of issues whether the issues are with something, someone, or even ourselves simply because we're afraid of what might come of it. We imagine the worst and it scares us off forever. I was terrified at the beginning of these two weeks. I thought I was gonna see that I do everything really strangely and never use my left arm and realize that everyone probably looks at me like I'm crazy because of it. But of course I realized that this isn't the case at all. Of course there were parts of it that were surprising and worse than I thought but I use my left arm way more than I thought I did, to the point where at times this project seemed kind of pointless. Everybody has a dominant arm. Rarely do people use both of their arms equally and I've found that I land more on the side of a normal person with a normal right-handed preference than someone who's living like she doesn't have a left arm. There's a reason why people don't ask me every day about my ignoring of my left arm and I saw that in the last two weeks.

Overall, it was a successful and surprisingly positive two weeks :)

Feel free to keep clicking on the link to my blog specifically for this two week project that I've put on the right! I will be posting on it a couple more times this week.

My Project: Week One

Well Week 1 of my project has been interesting. Less enlightening than I was expecting but if you expect enlightenment, it never comes, right? I put a link to the blog I'm doing for my class project on the sidebar. I'll be posting on it a couple more times this week so keep checking it if you like :)

This is harder to keep at than I thought but what I was expecting to notice is a lot more drastic than the difference really is. I favor my right arm less than I thought. A good realization I suppose. This might be one of those times where being more normal is a good thing...click on the link to get more details!

Following Through

So after my post last Sunday, two things happened. A project was introduced in my Creative Writing class that requires us to do something different for the next two weeks that changes our daily routine and (ironically) blog about it. And then I slammed my right thumb in the car door. Though the second one was extremely painful, I took them as friendly signs from the universe to actually follow through with my idea last week. So for the next two weeks I am going to use my left hand, arm, and shoulder for everything I can that I normally don't, partially because I said I would last week, partially because it's become a project for school, and partially because my right thumb has been smashed out of use. It's been a strange week and me and my mom have been laughing at how perfectly it all lined up. As much as my thumb hurts, I'm excited to make a change and see what comes of it :) I'll let you guys know how it's going next week and maybe post the link to my blog for class. Have a great week everyone and watch out for your car doors...

Picking Sides

My BPI often causes me to do everything with my right hand. I grew up not being able to do a lot of normal activities with my left arm so that now it's a default to use my right arm for almost everything, even things I now could use my left arm for. If someone hands me something, I reach for it with my right hand, even if it's close enough that my left arm could reach it. I pet my dog with my right hand, eat with my right hand, brush my teeth with my right hand, and even now I'm typing predominantly with my right fingers. I know a lot of these activities are common to do with your right hand even without a brachial plexus injury and you're just right-handed. But a lot of having this injury is overcompensation and have an idea for overcompensation that might actually be some that helps for once. My body has been conditioned into picking my right side and I'm done with it.

I have another idea to help strengthen my left shoulder--use it. I'll hold my notebook with my left arm, text with my left hand, drink with my left hand, and high-five with my left hand. Because my left arm is so out of use, it's getting weaker every minute. I'm going to start making the extra effort to remind myself not to favor my right side. It sounds simple, but I'm sure it won't be easy.

I'm self-conscious of using my left arm because I have less control over it so I'm afraid I'll make some stupid mistake and look like an infant who can't find her mouth when she's eating. Sometimes it can be slower to use my left arm or take more focus or effort because it's not as strong. But most of all, I know I'm just going to forget. I am so used to using my right arm for everything that it's a reflex. It's probably twice as strong and as comfortable doing everything for that very reason, not even because of my BPI. But I'm going to try this.

If anyone else feels that they unnecessarily favor one side too, I encourage you to do this with me :) I know it might sound hard at first but I think it will quickly get easier to handle. I think it will help us be more confident in both sides of our bodies and it will overall strengthen that shoulder. I want to be able to do more and be more comfortable using both of my arms and, though it may be slow, I hope just putting in a little extra effort will eventually show some change. I'm tired of picking sides.

Good luck to anyone who tries this out with me and please message me about your experience with it! Thanks guys :)

Posture

This might sound really boring but it's actually been a huge problem for me lately. My posture with my shoulder has slowly gotten worse and worse and I really think it's something major you should focus on as early as possible. I started getting into this bad habit of rolling my shoulders forward and I never really payed much attention to it until recently. It's a natural reaction (even for people without BPI) because it's the body's way of protecting the heart. But in the process, it can cause major issues with your shoulder and those muscles in the front and back of it. I try and make a conscious effort to pull my shoulders back but I rarely remember. I can't really pinpoint why it's so frustrating but it is. I guess because my shoulder's not truly comfortable whether I let it roll forward or make the effort to pull it back. It feels like it's in the transition between the two resting places so neither feels right when I pay attention to it. But that's how I know I need to make the effort to pull it back where it should be. If not, I know it's going to cause major problems later as I stretch the muscles on my back and shrink the ones in front. This was actually brought to light to me by the guy who massages me who I've mentioned before. And he told me that another good way to help with it is to strengthen the muscles with exercises that mimic a rowing motion, where your arms pull back with some weight usually. So I'm going to start doing exercises like that with a stretching band to strengthen and I hope that will help. Also, yoga always really helps with pulling my shoulders back. I think that's why I've been noticing it so much lately (I haven't gone to yoga in a while). I just want you guys to keep this in mind so hopefully you don't get to where I am with the frustration of it or even worse. Just focus on it early so it becomes natural and you won't have to worry about later :)

If you guys have any questions or suggestions about this, I would love to hear from you! Or even about anything else. I've heard that there's been a lot of issues with the contact form and comments on my blog and that they're not coming through. I'm working on fixing it but I want you guys to know that if you've reached out to me and gotten nothing back--I'm not ignoring you! So please keep trying and if I haven't responded or posted your comments, it's only because I'm not getting them. I hope I can get it fixed really soon but until then, keep sending stuff and even if you haven't already, please do! I love hearing from you guys.

Acceptance

 I've talked before about people finding out about your brachial plexus injury. As I said, often people don't find out for a while after first meeting you. Because of this, though they may be surprised, it doesn't change how they feel about you. Everyone has injuries and everyone's bodies are different so people can accept this easily (if they don't, you are spending time with the wrong people). Which is why I'm not going to talk about the acceptance of other people because they should and will accept you for you if they are the right people in your life. What I think is so often harder in any case is for you to accept yourself. Whether it's a brachial plexus injury or anything else, I find that this is too often the major fault in humanity. With double-standards and inequality and judgment everywhere you look, it's hard to be confident in ourselves. People say don't change for anyone but turn around and get mad at others for just being who they are. It's never made sense to me. There are too many contradictions like this that we use or see every day and I think what people need to realize is that no matter how much we wish there was, there is no certain statement that is going to make all of life make sense. Every life, every place, every situation is so incredibly different that it's irrational to look for one simple answer to figure out life. It's too complicated! So stop living by one quote you heard years ago. "Live in the moment" doesn't always apply because sometimes we have to look back to reflect on our mistakes and successes and look forward to prepare for what's to come. So when people tell you not to change, listen but remember that change can be good. And when people tell you that how you are isn't right, you don't have to believe that. You can only be sure that you will always have one thing: yourself. So love her or him and don't ever forget to. Everyone is different so there is absolutely no reason to compare yourself to anyone else. All that matters is that you accept yourself, perfection and imperfections, and then I think everything will fall into place. 

Time

I've never agreed with the saying that "Time heals all." Time so often makes things worse or just doesn't do anything at all. This probably sounds ridiculous coming from a teenager so let me save myself before I lose you all by saying I do know there is truth in the help that Time brings. When something painful occurs, whether physical or mental, it's all you can think about, all you can feel. But with Time, it becomes background noise and new happenings grab your attention. Still, I don't believe that Time heals. Time is more like the band-aid that doesn't do much but cover up the wound for a while. Time never makes wounds go away, it just makes them less important than the new ones always coming in.

Maybe having a brachial plexus injury has made me a bit more pessimistic about Time. Time hasn't healed me and if I don't take care of my shoulder, it will actually make it worse. But this is all ridiculously negative! My left arm was practically paralyzed when I was born. I've grown up to be the monkey bars champion in elementary school, a pitcher in softball, and now a yogi. People no longer ask me why I only pump one arm when I run. I don't have to pass on playing the pattycake hand game anymore because I can't turn my hand over. And most importantly, I've learned the best ways to live with my brachial plexus injury everyday.

I don't give Mother Time credit for all these accomplishments though. I can tell you that Time will make this easier as you grow up, even if only because you will learn to accept yourself and the special ways you do things. But Time won't solve your problems for you. Time will not give you the better range of motion that physical therapy can. Time will not give you the perseverance that is so necessary with these injuries. Time won't heal all. But if you find that perseverance, a band-aid is all you will need :)

Yoga

In my efforts to start this year off right, I went to yoga a few days in a row with my sister before she left to go back to college today. Being on winter break from school, I haven't had much soccer so it was great to get my exercise and spend my last few days with my sister. As I've said before, I've been doing yoga off and on for a while but I haven't in a while because of soccer. The past few days got me thinking though.

The first two days we went to classes by the same teacher who had been my instructor only once before and quite a while ago. He always goes up to everyone before and introduces himself and asks if you have any injuries he should know about. I remembered appreciating that because it saves me from the often confused glances I later receive when the instructor notices me doing a one-handed downward-facing dog. He didn't remember me from the last time I'd been to his class (understandably since it had been months) so he asked my name and I told him about my shoulder injury. He told me what he told me last time and what I've been told many other times, that I need to open my shoulders and squeeze my shoulder blades together behind my back which I've been working on. So the class started and I modified as it went through as I always do but even more this time because me and my sister had accidentally gone to the wrong class, one that was a higher level and often depended on shoulder strength that I obviously don't have. It was hard but I still felt good afterwards and realized that it was actually probably good strengthening for my shoulder. I decided I should maybe push myself to that level more often, even if I have to modify every other pose.

The next day, we went to a different class, not realizing it was with the same instructor. Before the class, he of course came up to me and I reminded him my name but this time he remembered me and my injury from the day before. He told me that he didn't understand the extent of my limitations at the start of class the day before and that he had been very surprised with my ability to modify and use my right shoulder to compensate. He asked more details about my injury and seemed intrigued by the whole thing. He was truly impressed and told me to just keep doing what I was doing. The class was great.

The last day (yesterday), my sister and I went to a stretching class because I was really sore from doing double workouts of soccer and hot yoga the previous two days. In front of me in that class was a girl around my age who was clearly an athlete. As the class went on, I realized that months ago I looked exactly like her when I was just starting to try yoga. I have learned that yoga is really about the little things you adjust: the alignment of your hips or the curling of your toes or the bend in your knees or the deep inhales and exhales of your breath. As an athlete, when I started yoga I didn't know this and in the poses we flowed through, I would try and get the furthest I could, not realizing that I should have been focusing on these little adjustments instead of trying to get my forehead all the way to my yoga mat or twist my body all the way to the side. I saw exactly that in the girl in front of me and I looked in the mirror at myself and saw the transformation I had made. And I remembered how impressed the instructor from the day before had been and how when I was in his class months ago, he clearly wasn't. I haven't become a yoga master or gone every day or accomplished anything major, but seeing that transformation in the mirror yesterday was just enough. For once, I had beaten the odds against my brachial plexus injury.