To the store employee who chose to judge a book by its cover:
I was walking with my family in Home Depot to get some supplies. I had just finished another round of Botox injections and my physical therapist decided I needed to be casted. (One of the worst experiences.) The casts were supposed to “support” the Botox injections by ensuring that my legs would continue to be loose. I was re-casted every week for about two months.
The sandals I had to wear to school, the stares and the casting process itself were pretty uncomfortable, though I was no stranger to most of those things. AFOs, which I wore until last year, need to have a mold. I get stared at a decent amount, both with AFOs and without, and I’ve pretty much given up on stylish footwear, but the sandals let in dewy grass when we went outside for recess.
Some kids at school thought I had broken my legs, though obviously, I was walking without crutches with the casts on. But no one really said anything about it. I got tons of questions, but it wasn’t really a big thing whether my legs were “broken” or not.
In the store, I was holding my dad’s hand. I tend to hold hands with someone in public places because I feel overwhelmed if I don’t, and I’m also more of a fall risk if I don’t hold on to someone or something.
As we passed by an aisle, a female employee was arranging a display. As we passed by, she said rather loudly, “Gee, you broke both of them? Good gracious, be more careful.”
I was so embarrassed. I was mortified. The casts were out of my control completely. The casts and Botox were not what I wanted. It’s not my fault that I was born with cerebral palsy, and a mild version at that. I was and am not an attention-seeking child, so to be called out like that was pretty much my nightmare. The way she phrased it made it seem like I was ungrateful, in a way, and didn’t care what happened to my body, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
Also, she couldn’t be more wrong about how careful I was. I am as careful as possible (unless my pride kicks in), and there was no way I’d do something dangerous enough to break my legs. Besides, athletic activities are not really my fortè.
All I wanted was to fit in. And a few other customers looked my way, which caused me to hang my head. I felt embarrassed for something I couldn’t help.
What the lady didn’t understand, and what I have a better grasp on how to explain now, is that cerebral palsy (CP) falls on a spectrum. Not everyone with CP uses a wheelchair, and not everyone with CP is ambulatory. A large chunk of society has an image of what a disability looks like, and that’s not true in all cases. My cerebral palsy is mostly invisible.
Plus, not many people walk around in casts unless they have broken a limb, although casting is more popular now as a treatment after Botox for cerebral palsy. She’d probably never seen a kid like me, although it was really none of her business what happened.
My dad acted as my advocate and told the lady that “not everything is as it seems.”
I wish I hadn’t been embarrassed that day in Home Depot. I wish I had kept my head up, because having CP is nothing to be ashamed of. I was pretty shy back then, and it hurt to be judged for something I really couldn’t help.
I’ll be honest — I used to resent the employee for what she said. The embarrassment was hard to shake. I don’t feel angry at her anymore. In the end, I’m glad she made me aware of the perceptions that society can sometimes have.
People need to know that cerebral palsy has a spectrum, invisible disabilities are real, and “not everything is as it seems.”