It's been so easy to shove my health to the side as I've cared for others. I'm now having to correct what I've neglected over the years. Even now, I'm tempted to shuffle my list of priorities and move me down a few rungs. But I'm forcing myself to think of myself, to consider myself, to love myself, to care for myself, to restore myself, to nourish myself, and to protect myself.
Where do you fall on your list of priorities?
"Loveth thine self as you loveth others." Braden 1:1
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Glaucoma, Blindness, Doctors, and Angie
Earlier this week, I had an eye exam by an ophthalmologist that was completely unfamiliar with the extensive history of my infamous eye condition. I was very pleased that this particular physician didn't rush through my visit, just because I have one totally blind eye and one fake eye. Even though I informed her that the effort to save my eyesight ended twenty years ago, she still took the time to carefully examine my eye as if “preventative treatment” was even a possibility.
For about ten to fifteen minutes, she thoroughly examined the exterior, interior, and back of my eye to make sure that additional diseases hadn't set up shop in my already battered eye. I appreciate her patience and commitment to comprehensive care.
I’m very glad that my Glaucoma seems to be in remission, if you will. However, I do find it interesting that my Glaucoma seems to be well behaved now that all of my sight is gone. I haven’t had a drop of Glaucoma medication in over ten years. When I was being pillaged and assaulted by Glaucoma in the 80’s and 90’s, I couldn’t get enough medicine or have enough surgeries. It almost seems like it was fate for me to be blinded by Glaucoma.
During my eye exam, I gave the doctor a quick synopsis of how, why, and when I lost all my sight. It’s a story I tell often, being that people always want to know “what happened” to me. I’ve learned how to give a painless, well packaged run down of my thirty year story in about three minutes. However, when I get a chance to tell my story to someone that understands ophthalmologic conditions and treatments, I’m all too eager to share the gritty details. And usually, the ophthalmologic professional is all too eager to listen. It’s a story that is unglamorous, but incredible in so many ways.
After I finished telling my story, I engaged in a little name dropping. I told her that I was once a patient of Dr. Ronald Gross, one of the rock stars in the field of Glaucoma care. As I expected, she perked up even more and started singing her praises of Dr. Gross. She told me how he has saved the sight of so many. “Too bad I wasn’t one of those many people he helped save their sight.” I thought.
The truth is that Dr. Gross did everything he possibly could to try to save my sight. He tried new medication, groundbreaking surgical techniques, and even allowed us to pray for him before operating on my eyes. But despite his best efforts, I still lost all of my sight. I don’t blame him though. As I aforementioned, it almost seems that Glaucoma was supposed to win. Dr. Gross was just on the losing team when it came to this particular patient.
Although Dr. Gross didn’t succeed at saving my sight, he did save my life. He joined the ranks of individuals that ignited a fire in me to overcome the perils of blindness. He took an interest in the whole me, and not just in my eyes. He always asked me about school. And he always told me I can be anything I wanted to be. I believed him. And I even loved him very much. He was indeed my doctor, but he was also a source of compassion and strength.
My new ophthalmologist informed me that Dr. Gross is leaving Houston and moving to West Virginia. I did a Google search tonight and found the press release that discusses his new opportunity.
http://wvuhealthcare.com/wvuh/Content/Media/News-Releases/2012/DEC/Dr-Ronald-L-Gross-to-lead-WVU-Eye-Institute?feed=News-Releases-RSS
Reading that press release swept me back to 1987 when Dr. Gross first started working for Baylor as the new Glaucoma specialist. My former doctor had committed suicide and left a stable of patients that needed immediate medical treatment. I was one of them. So, Dr. Gross got to work on my very sick eyes right after taking the new position. I was only 13-years-old. I didn’t even know that my former doctor had committed suicide. I only knew he had died. The staff at the clinic and my parents thought I was too young and fragile to learn of the real reason my doctor was dead. I’m not sure if Dr. Gross was in on the secret. I do know, however, that he was all too aware of the challenges associated with my eye diseases. And he bravely accepted the challenge to try to help me.
Dr. Gross took care of me for nearly fifteen years. The only reason I stopped seeing Dr. Gross was because of insurance changes. If I could, I would still be in his chair, allowing him to look in the eyes that were there when he started his career at Baylor.
I loved him when I was a kid. And as creepy as it may seem to some, I love him now. I sincerely wish him the very best.
Next week, I’m going to find out when and if he’s left Houston already. I think it is only appropriate that I send him a going away/congratulations/appreciation gift. He is truly a historical figure in the life pages of Angela Braden.
Good luck, Dr. Gross!
For about ten to fifteen minutes, she thoroughly examined the exterior, interior, and back of my eye to make sure that additional diseases hadn't set up shop in my already battered eye. I appreciate her patience and commitment to comprehensive care.
I’m very glad that my Glaucoma seems to be in remission, if you will. However, I do find it interesting that my Glaucoma seems to be well behaved now that all of my sight is gone. I haven’t had a drop of Glaucoma medication in over ten years. When I was being pillaged and assaulted by Glaucoma in the 80’s and 90’s, I couldn’t get enough medicine or have enough surgeries. It almost seems like it was fate for me to be blinded by Glaucoma.
During my eye exam, I gave the doctor a quick synopsis of how, why, and when I lost all my sight. It’s a story I tell often, being that people always want to know “what happened” to me. I’ve learned how to give a painless, well packaged run down of my thirty year story in about three minutes. However, when I get a chance to tell my story to someone that understands ophthalmologic conditions and treatments, I’m all too eager to share the gritty details. And usually, the ophthalmologic professional is all too eager to listen. It’s a story that is unglamorous, but incredible in so many ways.
After I finished telling my story, I engaged in a little name dropping. I told her that I was once a patient of Dr. Ronald Gross, one of the rock stars in the field of Glaucoma care. As I expected, she perked up even more and started singing her praises of Dr. Gross. She told me how he has saved the sight of so many. “Too bad I wasn’t one of those many people he helped save their sight.” I thought.
The truth is that Dr. Gross did everything he possibly could to try to save my sight. He tried new medication, groundbreaking surgical techniques, and even allowed us to pray for him before operating on my eyes. But despite his best efforts, I still lost all of my sight. I don’t blame him though. As I aforementioned, it almost seems that Glaucoma was supposed to win. Dr. Gross was just on the losing team when it came to this particular patient.
Although Dr. Gross didn’t succeed at saving my sight, he did save my life. He joined the ranks of individuals that ignited a fire in me to overcome the perils of blindness. He took an interest in the whole me, and not just in my eyes. He always asked me about school. And he always told me I can be anything I wanted to be. I believed him. And I even loved him very much. He was indeed my doctor, but he was also a source of compassion and strength.
My new ophthalmologist informed me that Dr. Gross is leaving Houston and moving to West Virginia. I did a Google search tonight and found the press release that discusses his new opportunity.
http://wvuhealthcare.com/wvuh/Content/Media/News-Releases/2012/DEC/Dr-Ronald-L-Gross-to-lead-WVU-Eye-Institute?feed=News-Releases-RSS
Reading that press release swept me back to 1987 when Dr. Gross first started working for Baylor as the new Glaucoma specialist. My former doctor had committed suicide and left a stable of patients that needed immediate medical treatment. I was one of them. So, Dr. Gross got to work on my very sick eyes right after taking the new position. I was only 13-years-old. I didn’t even know that my former doctor had committed suicide. I only knew he had died. The staff at the clinic and my parents thought I was too young and fragile to learn of the real reason my doctor was dead. I’m not sure if Dr. Gross was in on the secret. I do know, however, that he was all too aware of the challenges associated with my eye diseases. And he bravely accepted the challenge to try to help me.
Dr. Gross took care of me for nearly fifteen years. The only reason I stopped seeing Dr. Gross was because of insurance changes. If I could, I would still be in his chair, allowing him to look in the eyes that were there when he started his career at Baylor.
I loved him when I was a kid. And as creepy as it may seem to some, I love him now. I sincerely wish him the very best.
Next week, I’m going to find out when and if he’s left Houston already. I think it is only appropriate that I send him a going away/congratulations/appreciation gift. He is truly a historical figure in the life pages of Angela Braden.
Good luck, Dr. Gross!
Sunday, February 03, 2013
New Chapter?
This has been my home on the web since March of 2006. When I started this blog, my voice was incredibly unique.
there were hardly any bloggers that provided random stragglers on the web a look into their personal life. So, whenever I got tired and/or bored with my blog, I pushed myself to keep writing. I wanted to do whatever I could to lend my voice to a population of people that needed to be heard.
Now, there are hundreds of blogs that provide thousands a chance to read about their daily triumphs, struggles, joys, and disappointments with disability. Some disability bloggers enjoy great traffic and constant feedback from readers. yay for them!
Lately, I honestly do not feel the burden to maintain this blog like I did a few years ago. I feel that there are others to hold up the light; and many of them can do it a lot better and more consistently than me.
Furthermore, because I'm taking so much time working on other goals, it's very difficult for me to make this blog a priority. So, I've really been considering letting this boat float out here in the waters of the world wide web, unmanned, but still with direction.
I know I've thrown this arrow out here a few times, only to continue posting on NuVision for a NuDay. However, this time, I'm going to make a final decision if this month will be my last month posting on this blog. When I make my decision, I will let you all know. Sounds fair?
Until then, be well and prosperous.
Angela L. Braden
there were hardly any bloggers that provided random stragglers on the web a look into their personal life. So, whenever I got tired and/or bored with my blog, I pushed myself to keep writing. I wanted to do whatever I could to lend my voice to a population of people that needed to be heard.
Now, there are hundreds of blogs that provide thousands a chance to read about their daily triumphs, struggles, joys, and disappointments with disability. Some disability bloggers enjoy great traffic and constant feedback from readers. yay for them!
Lately, I honestly do not feel the burden to maintain this blog like I did a few years ago. I feel that there are others to hold up the light; and many of them can do it a lot better and more consistently than me.
Furthermore, because I'm taking so much time working on other goals, it's very difficult for me to make this blog a priority. So, I've really been considering letting this boat float out here in the waters of the world wide web, unmanned, but still with direction.
I know I've thrown this arrow out here a few times, only to continue posting on NuVision for a NuDay. However, this time, I'm going to make a final decision if this month will be my last month posting on this blog. When I make my decision, I will let you all know. Sounds fair?
Until then, be well and prosperous.
Angela L. Braden
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
This morning, I spent ten minutes, trying to convince the appointment desk at Kelsey Seybold that I qualify for a visit with an ophthalmologist rather than an optometrist. Their response… Well, you need to see an optometrist too be evaluated for glasses or contacts. My response… Sir, contacts and glasses will not help me. Their response… Well, ophthalmologists see patients with eye diseases that require future visits with an actual eye doctor. My response… Sir, I do have chronic eye diseases. I have Glaucoma and Uveitis. And I’ve had it for 30 years. And my eye diseases have not been nice to me over the years.
Result… I still have to be seen by optometrist first, being that I haven’t been to the eye doctor at Kelsey Seybold in a few years. That appointment will determine if said eye diseases are still present and chronic. While I think that’s a waste of my time, I guess I have to go with the flow.
Last comment from the appointment guy… Be sure to arrive 15 minutes early. And bring your glasses or contact lens to the appointment.
My silent response… Yeah, I’ll make sure I bring my fake eye to the appointment.
My audible response… Thanks…
I'll post an update on the 1st of February to tell you guys about my routine eye exam, that I am sure will not be so routine when the first level eye doc looks into the one eye I have left, only to see a completely damaged optic nerve, a swollen cornea, and scarred tissue. Again, this visit will be a waste of my time and $35 copay.
Result… I still have to be seen by optometrist first, being that I haven’t been to the eye doctor at Kelsey Seybold in a few years. That appointment will determine if said eye diseases are still present and chronic. While I think that’s a waste of my time, I guess I have to go with the flow.
Last comment from the appointment guy… Be sure to arrive 15 minutes early. And bring your glasses or contact lens to the appointment.
My silent response… Yeah, I’ll make sure I bring my fake eye to the appointment.
My audible response… Thanks…
I'll post an update on the 1st of February to tell you guys about my routine eye exam, that I am sure will not be so routine when the first level eye doc looks into the one eye I have left, only to see a completely damaged optic nerve, a swollen cornea, and scarred tissue. Again, this visit will be a waste of my time and $35 copay.
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
1+1+1=1
Nearly two decades ago, I dreamt that twenty-year-old Angela came face to face with a variant of herself that was ten years younger. The interaction was awkward, but loving in a strange way. The two Angela’s were obviously the same, but so unfamiliar with each other. Contained in the ten years that stood between the identical, but unidentical pair were experience with loss, disappointment, separation from loved ones, fear, grief, illness, and unimaginable challenges.
The younger version of the two quietly exhibited innocence. Seemingly, she was untouched by hardship and quite capable of trusting. Her skin was dewy and smooth, free of blemishes, and absent of any real signs of aging. Her brown eyes were soft, beautiful, and hopeful. Her wavy, dark brown hair was pulled in two ponytails that dangled on each side of her round face.
The older version had a girlish, yet pensive expression that rested on her face. She still looked young, but she definitely possessed the twists and curves of a blossoming flower. Her skin was clean, clear, but not as new as the young child. Her wavy, dark brown hair was pulled in a unassuming bun on the back of her head. Her brown eyes had seen so much and had not seen enough. She almost appeared to be sad and snagged with covert Sinicism. But when she noticed herself, the younger version of herself, the sadness on her face melted and was replaced with unexpected awareness and sincere compassion.
The younger of the two obviously didn’t know what was waiting for her down the road. However, the mature replica was all too aware of the challenges that were waiting on the young child. Self love inspired the older girl to wish that she could save the young child of what seemed to be their shared destiny. But because it was indeed destiny, there was little the oldest girl could do to ward off the inevitable.
The younger child seemed to be aware that the future version of herself knew something she didn’t know. She seemed to understand that the older girl could not betray their destiny by attempting to reveal a truth that she probably wouldn’t understand or would not even be prepared to cope with. It was clear that the younger girl desired to trust her older self. So, she did.
The two versions of one girl, took each other hands and locked their resolve to love, trust, and add to each other’s worth. Envy, misunderstanding, and deceit would not live between them. Instead, love, understanding, and strength would bind them together. And together to two girls would triumph over what was to come for both of them.
Today, I think of that dream. Both versions of my earlier self are both so far away from me. I wish I could reach back and protect both of them. I wish I could hold and comfort them. I wish I could even be them from time to time. And then, I realized that I am them. While I cannot protect them, I can hold and comfort them. And they can hold and comfort me. All three of us are partners in this journey that has become my life. And each of us adds to the encompassing value of Ms. Angela Braden.
It’s wonderful to be loved, trusted, admired, and comforted by others. It’s even more fantastic to be loved trusted, admired, and comforted by oneself.
All rights belong to the author of this piece: Angela L. Braden
The younger version of the two quietly exhibited innocence. Seemingly, she was untouched by hardship and quite capable of trusting. Her skin was dewy and smooth, free of blemishes, and absent of any real signs of aging. Her brown eyes were soft, beautiful, and hopeful. Her wavy, dark brown hair was pulled in two ponytails that dangled on each side of her round face.
The older version had a girlish, yet pensive expression that rested on her face. She still looked young, but she definitely possessed the twists and curves of a blossoming flower. Her skin was clean, clear, but not as new as the young child. Her wavy, dark brown hair was pulled in a unassuming bun on the back of her head. Her brown eyes had seen so much and had not seen enough. She almost appeared to be sad and snagged with covert Sinicism. But when she noticed herself, the younger version of herself, the sadness on her face melted and was replaced with unexpected awareness and sincere compassion.
The younger of the two obviously didn’t know what was waiting for her down the road. However, the mature replica was all too aware of the challenges that were waiting on the young child. Self love inspired the older girl to wish that she could save the young child of what seemed to be their shared destiny. But because it was indeed destiny, there was little the oldest girl could do to ward off the inevitable.
The younger child seemed to be aware that the future version of herself knew something she didn’t know. She seemed to understand that the older girl could not betray their destiny by attempting to reveal a truth that she probably wouldn’t understand or would not even be prepared to cope with. It was clear that the younger girl desired to trust her older self. So, she did.
The two versions of one girl, took each other hands and locked their resolve to love, trust, and add to each other’s worth. Envy, misunderstanding, and deceit would not live between them. Instead, love, understanding, and strength would bind them together. And together to two girls would triumph over what was to come for both of them.
Today, I think of that dream. Both versions of my earlier self are both so far away from me. I wish I could reach back and protect both of them. I wish I could hold and comfort them. I wish I could even be them from time to time. And then, I realized that I am them. While I cannot protect them, I can hold and comfort them. And they can hold and comfort me. All three of us are partners in this journey that has become my life. And each of us adds to the encompassing value of Ms. Angela Braden.
It’s wonderful to be loved, trusted, admired, and comforted by others. It’s even more fantastic to be loved trusted, admired, and comforted by oneself.
All rights belong to the author of this piece: Angela L. Braden
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Blindness Plus... I don't think so!
As I mentioned in the blog post I wrote the other day, I am having some problems with my right shoulder and arm. The docs believe I have a issue with one of my discs in my neck that's causing pain to radiate from my shoulder down through my arms and finally in my fingers.
Some days the pain is not so bad. I actually forget about it. But I guess when the pain wants a little of my attention, it starts jumping up and down on that disc in my neck. The pain cannot be ignored, despite my best efforts to not let it get the best of me. Most nights, I cannot sleep well. And most days, especially when I'm using my arm, I feel the soarness and sharp pain traveling down my arm. Even when I type, the pain starts working on me. I have to take breaks after about fifteen minutes of typing, just to give my arm some relief. Of course, this is not good for a woman that teaches on a college level and takes graduate level courses. So far, I'm not falling behind with my work on my job. However, my graduate school work has taken a hit. I hope I can recover before the end of the semester.
The other day, I had a nerve conduction test to see if there's some issues with the nerves in my arm. I suspect that I will have a MRI some time next week. I start physical therapy in a few days. Hopefully, the docs and physical therapists will help me resolve this issue quick, fast, and in a a hurry. The last thing that this chica needs in her life is an additional disability. No can do! Blindness is inconvenient enough. So, not having good use of my arm would only make my life more physically challenging. I don't want any part of that.
So, if you believe in prayer, ask God to connect whatever that's disconnected, mend whatever is broken, and correct whatever that is wrong. Thanks a bunch!
Some days the pain is not so bad. I actually forget about it. But I guess when the pain wants a little of my attention, it starts jumping up and down on that disc in my neck. The pain cannot be ignored, despite my best efforts to not let it get the best of me. Most nights, I cannot sleep well. And most days, especially when I'm using my arm, I feel the soarness and sharp pain traveling down my arm. Even when I type, the pain starts working on me. I have to take breaks after about fifteen minutes of typing, just to give my arm some relief. Of course, this is not good for a woman that teaches on a college level and takes graduate level courses. So far, I'm not falling behind with my work on my job. However, my graduate school work has taken a hit. I hope I can recover before the end of the semester.
The other day, I had a nerve conduction test to see if there's some issues with the nerves in my arm. I suspect that I will have a MRI some time next week. I start physical therapy in a few days. Hopefully, the docs and physical therapists will help me resolve this issue quick, fast, and in a a hurry. The last thing that this chica needs in her life is an additional disability. No can do! Blindness is inconvenient enough. So, not having good use of my arm would only make my life more physically challenging. I don't want any part of that.
So, if you believe in prayer, ask God to connect whatever that's disconnected, mend whatever is broken, and correct whatever that is wrong. Thanks a bunch!
Tuesday, October 09, 2012
My Random Reflections (?th Edition)
It's nearly 3:00 in the morning. Instead of sleeping or doing homework, I'm sitting here in my comfy chair thinking about my life. I figured this is a good time to continue my never ending series of "random reflections" on my blog. Here's the latest.
1. Back in April something happened to my right arm. I don't know if I injured it by carrying something too heavy or if I slept in a compromising position. All I know is that since then, my right shoulder, all the way down to my fingers, has been hurting off and on. The docs are investigating to see if I have a pinched nerve in my neck. Although I hope that's not what it is, I hope they get to the bottom of this soon. The pain is almost impairing my functional use of my arm. And I don't need any added disabilities in my life. So, we need to come up with a way to treat me of this condition quick fast and in a hurry.
In the morning, I'm having a nerve conduction test done. I heard they can be very painful. Pray that I don't cry during the test. I'll update to let you guys know how that went.
2. I'm in great need of a vacation. Does anyone want to sponsor me a trip away from Houston? I need an escape!
3. I'm really upset with our state's vocational rehab agency. I'm trying to figure out what my next step should be. What I am clear on is that I don't like the idea of going to war with the agency. There has to be a way to cooperatively work through this. I'm determine to find it. Keep in your prayers as I determine which direction to go.
1. Back in April something happened to my right arm. I don't know if I injured it by carrying something too heavy or if I slept in a compromising position. All I know is that since then, my right shoulder, all the way down to my fingers, has been hurting off and on. The docs are investigating to see if I have a pinched nerve in my neck. Although I hope that's not what it is, I hope they get to the bottom of this soon. The pain is almost impairing my functional use of my arm. And I don't need any added disabilities in my life. So, we need to come up with a way to treat me of this condition quick fast and in a hurry.
In the morning, I'm having a nerve conduction test done. I heard they can be very painful. Pray that I don't cry during the test. I'll update to let you guys know how that went.
2. I'm in great need of a vacation. Does anyone want to sponsor me a trip away from Houston? I need an escape!
3. I'm really upset with our state's vocational rehab agency. I'm trying to figure out what my next step should be. What I am clear on is that I don't like the idea of going to war with the agency. There has to be a way to cooperatively work through this. I'm determine to find it. Keep in your prayers as I determine which direction to go.
Monday, September 17, 2012
The Lady and the Tramp: I remember that!
This weekend, my eight-year-old niece, Jasmine, asked me to buy her a DVD of the classic Disney film, The Lady and the Tramp. Without asking how much the price tag on the DVD read, I told her yes, being that movie was one of my favorite when I was her age. I was delighted to have the chance to bring the classic home with me.
This weekend, my three nieces watched the animated film almost a dozen times. I guess they love it as much as I did. Well, as much as I still do...
You see, I still remember what Lady and her doggy boyfriend looks like. I still remember the creepy, siamese cats. I still remember the romantic spaghetti dinner that was enjoyed by the canine lovers. Listening to the movie was like watching it all over again. And even though it's been 25 years, the images are still fresh.
Here are some other movies and shows that the kids like to watch that I remember seeing with my own eyes.
The Smurfs
Scooby Doo
The Jetsons
The Flintstones
The Fox and the Hound
Bambi
Mickey Mouse
My Little Pony
Jasmine is always shocked and tickled pink when I tell her that those shows were once my favorite when I was her age. I wonder what classic animated show and/or film will be recycled next.
Have a fantastic week!
Angela
This weekend, my three nieces watched the animated film almost a dozen times. I guess they love it as much as I did. Well, as much as I still do...
You see, I still remember what Lady and her doggy boyfriend looks like. I still remember the creepy, siamese cats. I still remember the romantic spaghetti dinner that was enjoyed by the canine lovers. Listening to the movie was like watching it all over again. And even though it's been 25 years, the images are still fresh.
Here are some other movies and shows that the kids like to watch that I remember seeing with my own eyes.
The Smurfs
Scooby Doo
The Jetsons
The Flintstones
The Fox and the Hound
Bambi
Mickey Mouse
My Little Pony
Jasmine is always shocked and tickled pink when I tell her that those shows were once my favorite when I was her age. I wonder what classic animated show and/or film will be recycled next.
Have a fantastic week!
Angela
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Disability Defined
Disability as Defined by the ADA
The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) is a federal civil rights law that prohibits employment discrimination against "qualified individuals with disabilities."
Determining who is a "qualified individual with a disability" is a complicated process. Under the ADA an individual has a disability and is protected by the law if he or she has an "impairment" that "substantially limits" one or more "major life activities."
What is an impairment?
The concept of "impairment" includes physiological as well as mental or psychological conditions. A physiological impairment is a disorder or condition, a cosmetic disfigurement or an anatomical loss affecting any of the major body systems. A psychological or mental impairment includes most disorders, such as mental retardation, organic brain syndrome, emotional or mental illness and special learning disabilities. Under this inclusive definition of "impairment" a broad range of conditions have been protected under the ADA, including:
Depression
Back problems
AIDS
Epilepsy
Diabetes
Blindness
Schizophrenia
Mobility Impairments
Think, concentrate and interact with others
What does "substantially limits" mean?
The impairment must "substantially limit" one or more major life activities. A substantial limitation is more than inconvenient or bothersome. Determining whether an impairment is substantially limiting is done on a case-by-case basis.
What is a major life activity?
The term "major life activity" has been expansively defined. Court Decisions in various jurisdictions now include the ability to:
Provide self-care
Perform manual tasks
Walk
See, hear, speak
Reproduce
Breathe
Learn
Work
Sit or stand
Lift or reach
Think, concentrate and interact with others
Is it still a disability if medication corrects the deficiencies caused by the impairment?
The determination of whether an individual's major life activities are "substantially limited" must take into account the effects of "mitigating measures."
The Supreme Court has emphasized that impairment must in fact limit an individual in their life. For example, individuals with severe depression are not protected by the law if medication allows them to perform their jobs without exhibiting any symptoms. A person with corrective lenses is not disabled if the glasses enable him or her to see. However, an individual with polio who wears a brace may still be disabled despite the fact that the brace enables participation in a number of physical activities, because the brace also limits the range of motion and causes a limp.
Who is a "qualified employee?"
An individual with a disability must also be qualified in order to be protected from discrimination by the ADA. A person with a disability is a qualified if he or she meets the legitimate skills, experience, education or other requirements of the position he or she seeks or holds.
Reprinted by permission of author Contributing: Jane Howard-Martin is a graduate of Harvard Law School and has practiced employment law for 15 years.
E-mail her at JaneHowardMartin@aol.com.
Copyright 2002. Jane Howard-Martin. This article should not be construed as legal advice or a legal opinion on any specific facts or circumstances. State employment laws vary; make sure to check what those laws are.
Source: http://www.usatoday.com/money/jobcenter/workplace/employmentlaw/2002-12-18-ada-defined_x.htm
I grabbed this article from: http://www.infinitec.org/live/citizenship/adadefine.htm
The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) is a federal civil rights law that prohibits employment discrimination against "qualified individuals with disabilities."
Determining who is a "qualified individual with a disability" is a complicated process. Under the ADA an individual has a disability and is protected by the law if he or she has an "impairment" that "substantially limits" one or more "major life activities."
What is an impairment?
The concept of "impairment" includes physiological as well as mental or psychological conditions. A physiological impairment is a disorder or condition, a cosmetic disfigurement or an anatomical loss affecting any of the major body systems. A psychological or mental impairment includes most disorders, such as mental retardation, organic brain syndrome, emotional or mental illness and special learning disabilities. Under this inclusive definition of "impairment" a broad range of conditions have been protected under the ADA, including:
Depression
Back problems
AIDS
Epilepsy
Diabetes
Blindness
Schizophrenia
Mobility Impairments
Think, concentrate and interact with others
What does "substantially limits" mean?
The impairment must "substantially limit" one or more major life activities. A substantial limitation is more than inconvenient or bothersome. Determining whether an impairment is substantially limiting is done on a case-by-case basis.
What is a major life activity?
The term "major life activity" has been expansively defined. Court Decisions in various jurisdictions now include the ability to:
Provide self-care
Perform manual tasks
Walk
See, hear, speak
Reproduce
Breathe
Learn
Work
Sit or stand
Lift or reach
Think, concentrate and interact with others
Is it still a disability if medication corrects the deficiencies caused by the impairment?
The determination of whether an individual's major life activities are "substantially limited" must take into account the effects of "mitigating measures."
The Supreme Court has emphasized that impairment must in fact limit an individual in their life. For example, individuals with severe depression are not protected by the law if medication allows them to perform their jobs without exhibiting any symptoms. A person with corrective lenses is not disabled if the glasses enable him or her to see. However, an individual with polio who wears a brace may still be disabled despite the fact that the brace enables participation in a number of physical activities, because the brace also limits the range of motion and causes a limp.
Who is a "qualified employee?"
An individual with a disability must also be qualified in order to be protected from discrimination by the ADA. A person with a disability is a qualified if he or she meets the legitimate skills, experience, education or other requirements of the position he or she seeks or holds.
Reprinted by permission of author Contributing: Jane Howard-Martin is a graduate of Harvard Law School and has practiced employment law for 15 years.
E-mail her at JaneHowardMartin@aol.com.
Copyright 2002. Jane Howard-Martin. This article should not be construed as legal advice or a legal opinion on any specific facts or circumstances. State employment laws vary; make sure to check what those laws are.
Source: http://www.usatoday.com/money/jobcenter/workplace/employmentlaw/2002-12-18-ada-defined_x.htm
I grabbed this article from: http://www.infinitec.org/live/citizenship/adadefine.htm
A Challenge to CNN
I really would like to see CNN produce a documentary focusing on people with disabilities in America.
Over 50 million men, women, and children live with a disability in America. This makes people with disabilities the largest minority group in the US. However, this population is very seldom discussed or featured in the news media.
It is far past the time that a networ, such as CNN, should develop and air a program that showcases the history, struggles, and triumphs of this unique, yet diverse population.
I challenge CNN to shine a spotlight on a population that is often forgot about, misunderstood, and shunned for their differences.
I'm sure a network that has been on the forefront of special programming, such as Black in America and Latino in America, will do a great job at developing and producing a documentary on the Disabled in America.
Over 50 million men, women, and children live with a disability in America. This makes people with disabilities the largest minority group in the US. However, this population is very seldom discussed or featured in the news media.
It is far past the time that a networ, such as CNN, should develop and air a program that showcases the history, struggles, and triumphs of this unique, yet diverse population.
I challenge CNN to shine a spotlight on a population that is often forgot about, misunderstood, and shunned for their differences.
I'm sure a network that has been on the forefront of special programming, such as Black in America and Latino in America, will do a great job at developing and producing a documentary on the Disabled in America.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Vanessa L. Williams; Glad I got a chance to see her!
**Walk down memory lane.**
One Sunday morning, I was the first in my family to wake up and get out of bed. I slid out of the bed carefully to make sure I didn’t wake up my unwanted bedmate, my little sister, Paula. I went to the restroom to wash my face. I decided to wait to brush my teeth, being that I was about to go in the kitchen to fix me a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. I felt that it was pointless to brush your teeth before you eat breakfast. I would later learn in life that whoever is eating breakfast with you would certainly appreciate the pre-breakfast brushing.
When I got to the kitchen, I noticed a magazine on the kitchen table that I hadn’t seen before. Well, let me rephrase that. I had never seen that magazine in our house before. It was a Penthouse Magazine. I immediately recognized the title, being that I would see copies of Penthouse, Playboy, and Hustler magazines behind the counter at the convenience store in our neighborhood. However, the magazines I would see at the convenience store would have the racy images on the cover of the magazine blanketed with an opaque sheet of paper. The only thing you could consistently see on the magazine was the title and the issue date. Every now and then you could see the smiling face of a young, white woman, who obviously had something on or did not have something on that could legally be revealed to young or unwanted eyes.
That morning, right there in my kitchen was my first time actually seeing the entire cover of the magazine. I stared at the magazine, wondering how in the world did it get in our kitchen. And then it finally struck me. That was the Penthouse Magazine that was all over the news that month. On my kitchen table lied the magazine that contained the nude photos of our first African American Miss America. A few days before, I heard Daddy and Mama say they wondered how racy the pictures really were. I guess they decided to buy a magazine and take a look for themselves.
I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone had entered the kitchen without me hearing them. And then I slowly inched closer to the magazine.
“Should I take a peek?” I thought.
I had seen plenty of nude breasts on HBO when my parents were sleep, but this was different. I had never looked at nude photos in a magazine. And I certainly never would’ve thought that I would get a chance to see Vanessa Williams’ infamous nude photos. But that morning, I had the opportunity to take a sneak peek into a magazine that was making headlines all over the world.
I touched the cover of the magazine with the tips of my fingers.
“Okay… I didn’t burst into flames.” I thought.
I stood there, wondering if I was going to be bold enough to open the magazine. It was just something about being caught looking in a girlie magazine that caused me to fear for my very life. If God didn’t kill me, I figured that Mama would.
“Okay… I’ll take my chances. They shouldn’t have left it out on the table.” I thought.
I opened the first page and started to quickly flip through the rest. Pictures and pictures of beautiful and not so beautiful women were staring back at me. Some had on bikini bating suits, while others were topless. Some looked like they were looking playful, while others looked outright intense. I wondered why these women would allow someone to take pictures of them and sell them in magazines.
As my mind was racing, I finally stumbled upon the photos of Vanessa Williams. There she was, looking comfortable as she posed in front of a camera with bare breast in a rather sensual manner. My mind yanked forward the image of her standing in front of the crowd at the Miss America pageant, being crowned as the first African American Miss America. She was so beautiful. And there’s no doubt, in that very proud moment, I wished that I could look and be just like her. But now, as I stood face to face with an image of a naked Vanessa Williams, I had a different feeling. I still thought she was beautiful. And I hoped that I could one day have a body as perfect as hers looked in these photos, but I didn’t want to immolate this particular image of Vanessa Williams. However, I was not ashamed of her. I was still proud that she was our first African American Miss America. And as far as I was concerned, she would always be the first.
I quickly scanned through the rest of the pictures of Vanessa Williams and the other naked girls and placed the magazine back in the same spot it was on the table.
That morning, I decided that the image of Vanessa Williams with the crown on her head was the one that I would forever assign to my initial recollection of her. . Naked Vanessa Williams was definitely interesting, but it wasn’t as intriguing as the beautiful woman that earned the title of Miss America.
As I walked away from the table and headed for the pantry to grab the box of cereal, my mother came walking into the kitchen to fix the babies something to eat. Fear gripped me.
“Oh, my God. Did she see me?”
But my mother registered the same look of fear in her eyes when she noticed the magazine on the table that was just a few short feet away from her ten-year-old daughter. She greeted me and asked what was I doing as she tried to subtly grab the magazine off the table. I made sure to not look at the magazine or my mother as I started pouring my cereal in a bowl on the kitchen counter.
“Just fixing me a bowl of cereal. That’s all.”
When I turned around, Mama was still there, but she somehow made the magazine disappear.
“What did she do with it?” I wondered.
I never saw that magazine again. That issue of Penthouse Magazine went down in history as being not only the magazine that published nude photos of Vanessa Williams, but also the first and last pornographic magazine I would ever see in my life. And strangely enough, I don’t have any regrets for taking a peek into the taboo magazine.
One Sunday morning, I was the first in my family to wake up and get out of bed. I slid out of the bed carefully to make sure I didn’t wake up my unwanted bedmate, my little sister, Paula. I went to the restroom to wash my face. I decided to wait to brush my teeth, being that I was about to go in the kitchen to fix me a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. I felt that it was pointless to brush your teeth before you eat breakfast. I would later learn in life that whoever is eating breakfast with you would certainly appreciate the pre-breakfast brushing.
When I got to the kitchen, I noticed a magazine on the kitchen table that I hadn’t seen before. Well, let me rephrase that. I had never seen that magazine in our house before. It was a Penthouse Magazine. I immediately recognized the title, being that I would see copies of Penthouse, Playboy, and Hustler magazines behind the counter at the convenience store in our neighborhood. However, the magazines I would see at the convenience store would have the racy images on the cover of the magazine blanketed with an opaque sheet of paper. The only thing you could consistently see on the magazine was the title and the issue date. Every now and then you could see the smiling face of a young, white woman, who obviously had something on or did not have something on that could legally be revealed to young or unwanted eyes.
That morning, right there in my kitchen was my first time actually seeing the entire cover of the magazine. I stared at the magazine, wondering how in the world did it get in our kitchen. And then it finally struck me. That was the Penthouse Magazine that was all over the news that month. On my kitchen table lied the magazine that contained the nude photos of our first African American Miss America. A few days before, I heard Daddy and Mama say they wondered how racy the pictures really were. I guess they decided to buy a magazine and take a look for themselves.
I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone had entered the kitchen without me hearing them. And then I slowly inched closer to the magazine.
“Should I take a peek?” I thought.
I had seen plenty of nude breasts on HBO when my parents were sleep, but this was different. I had never looked at nude photos in a magazine. And I certainly never would’ve thought that I would get a chance to see Vanessa Williams’ infamous nude photos. But that morning, I had the opportunity to take a sneak peek into a magazine that was making headlines all over the world.
I touched the cover of the magazine with the tips of my fingers.
“Okay… I didn’t burst into flames.” I thought.
I stood there, wondering if I was going to be bold enough to open the magazine. It was just something about being caught looking in a girlie magazine that caused me to fear for my very life. If God didn’t kill me, I figured that Mama would.
“Okay… I’ll take my chances. They shouldn’t have left it out on the table.” I thought.
I opened the first page and started to quickly flip through the rest. Pictures and pictures of beautiful and not so beautiful women were staring back at me. Some had on bikini bating suits, while others were topless. Some looked like they were looking playful, while others looked outright intense. I wondered why these women would allow someone to take pictures of them and sell them in magazines.
As my mind was racing, I finally stumbled upon the photos of Vanessa Williams. There she was, looking comfortable as she posed in front of a camera with bare breast in a rather sensual manner. My mind yanked forward the image of her standing in front of the crowd at the Miss America pageant, being crowned as the first African American Miss America. She was so beautiful. And there’s no doubt, in that very proud moment, I wished that I could look and be just like her. But now, as I stood face to face with an image of a naked Vanessa Williams, I had a different feeling. I still thought she was beautiful. And I hoped that I could one day have a body as perfect as hers looked in these photos, but I didn’t want to immolate this particular image of Vanessa Williams. However, I was not ashamed of her. I was still proud that she was our first African American Miss America. And as far as I was concerned, she would always be the first.
I quickly scanned through the rest of the pictures of Vanessa Williams and the other naked girls and placed the magazine back in the same spot it was on the table.
That morning, I decided that the image of Vanessa Williams with the crown on her head was the one that I would forever assign to my initial recollection of her. . Naked Vanessa Williams was definitely interesting, but it wasn’t as intriguing as the beautiful woman that earned the title of Miss America.
As I walked away from the table and headed for the pantry to grab the box of cereal, my mother came walking into the kitchen to fix the babies something to eat. Fear gripped me.
“Oh, my God. Did she see me?”
But my mother registered the same look of fear in her eyes when she noticed the magazine on the table that was just a few short feet away from her ten-year-old daughter. She greeted me and asked what was I doing as she tried to subtly grab the magazine off the table. I made sure to not look at the magazine or my mother as I started pouring my cereal in a bowl on the kitchen counter.
“Just fixing me a bowl of cereal. That’s all.”
When I turned around, Mama was still there, but she somehow made the magazine disappear.
“What did she do with it?” I wondered.
I never saw that magazine again. That issue of Penthouse Magazine went down in history as being not only the magazine that published nude photos of Vanessa Williams, but also the first and last pornographic magazine I would ever see in my life. And strangely enough, I don’t have any regrets for taking a peek into the taboo magazine.
Monday, August 06, 2012
Waffle Fries, Same Sex Marriage, Jesus, and the All Mighty Dollar (Yes, I know. Strange bedfollows.)
If you haven't been living under a rock for the last couple of weeks, I'm sure you've already heard about the Chick-Fil-A controversy regarding same sex marriage, spawned by the comments made by the fast-food chain's CEO, Dan Cathy.
Mike Huckabee, former governor of Arkansas and ex-GOP presidential candidate proposed a Chick-Fil-A Appreciation Day to demonstrate support for the Christian company. Chick-Fil-A was said to have racked in the doh that day.
My first thought was that the infamous appreciation day was just as ridiculous as the proposed boycott of the sanctified poultry proposed by gay rights activists around the country. I honestly was thinking that it is absolutely coo coo to gobble up some waffle fries to prove your support of Jesus, and the same level of coo coo for those that deny themselves a chicken wrap in the name of gay love.
But as I sat down and thought about it, I wondered how would I feel about the CEO of any major company if they said that they do not believe that black people should marry white people, or disabled people should not get a chance to have and parent children, or women shouldn't make the same amount of money as men for the same job. I would be outraged, to say the least. There is no doubt that I would refuse to patronize that business until that CEO was removed.
So, finally, when I brought it down to my level, I was able to better understand why the gay community is so up in arms.
Now, here's the interesting thing for me and Chick-Fil-A... I don't really like their food that much. I don't dislike it. I just don't really prefer it. So, if I never eat at Chick-Fil-A again, I will be just fine. So, me stating that I'm never going to eat their again because of the statements made by their CEO would actually be as phony as a chicken nugget being passed off as holy communion. The likelihood is that I probably will not eat there, but it has very little to do with homosexuals, marriage equality, or religious convictions. And if by chance I do patronize Chick-Fil-A and order their awesome Lemonade-tea or fantastic cubed ice, I'm not going to be making a personal political and/or religious statement either. The only statement I'll be making is a choice made by pure convenience.
What's the lesson in all of this?
Business owners and CEO's: Do yourself and your business a favor. Keep your mouth shut regarding social issues, especially if the issue expresses prejudice, discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, or ethnocentricism. Yes, you may indeed stay in business and continue to make lots of money. However, you go down in the history books on the wrong side of the issue. Plus, you open yourself to scrutiny you may not be prepared to publically discuss. Ask Bishop Eddie Long about that.
Do I think that Dan Cathy has a right to feel the way he does? Yep. However, I think it is important for Cathy and any other business executive to recognize how their personal views may impact the organizations they work for and represent if they decide to go public with what they think.
Postscript: While researching this story, I learned of the passing of Don Perry, the founder of Chick-FilA. He passed away in the middle of all this controversy. While I think that his company's current CEO made a bad move from a PR perspective, I do respect and appreciate the work that Don Perry did with his restaurant. It is my prayer that he rest in peace.
Mike Huckabee, former governor of Arkansas and ex-GOP presidential candidate proposed a Chick-Fil-A Appreciation Day to demonstrate support for the Christian company. Chick-Fil-A was said to have racked in the doh that day.
My first thought was that the infamous appreciation day was just as ridiculous as the proposed boycott of the sanctified poultry proposed by gay rights activists around the country. I honestly was thinking that it is absolutely coo coo to gobble up some waffle fries to prove your support of Jesus, and the same level of coo coo for those that deny themselves a chicken wrap in the name of gay love.
But as I sat down and thought about it, I wondered how would I feel about the CEO of any major company if they said that they do not believe that black people should marry white people, or disabled people should not get a chance to have and parent children, or women shouldn't make the same amount of money as men for the same job. I would be outraged, to say the least. There is no doubt that I would refuse to patronize that business until that CEO was removed.
So, finally, when I brought it down to my level, I was able to better understand why the gay community is so up in arms.
Now, here's the interesting thing for me and Chick-Fil-A... I don't really like their food that much. I don't dislike it. I just don't really prefer it. So, if I never eat at Chick-Fil-A again, I will be just fine. So, me stating that I'm never going to eat their again because of the statements made by their CEO would actually be as phony as a chicken nugget being passed off as holy communion. The likelihood is that I probably will not eat there, but it has very little to do with homosexuals, marriage equality, or religious convictions. And if by chance I do patronize Chick-Fil-A and order their awesome Lemonade-tea or fantastic cubed ice, I'm not going to be making a personal political and/or religious statement either. The only statement I'll be making is a choice made by pure convenience.
What's the lesson in all of this?
Business owners and CEO's: Do yourself and your business a favor. Keep your mouth shut regarding social issues, especially if the issue expresses prejudice, discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia, or ethnocentricism. Yes, you may indeed stay in business and continue to make lots of money. However, you go down in the history books on the wrong side of the issue. Plus, you open yourself to scrutiny you may not be prepared to publically discuss. Ask Bishop Eddie Long about that.
Do I think that Dan Cathy has a right to feel the way he does? Yep. However, I think it is important for Cathy and any other business executive to recognize how their personal views may impact the organizations they work for and represent if they decide to go public with what they think.
Postscript: While researching this story, I learned of the passing of Don Perry, the founder of Chick-FilA. He passed away in the middle of all this controversy. While I think that his company's current CEO made a bad move from a PR perspective, I do respect and appreciate the work that Don Perry did with his restaurant. It is my prayer that he rest in peace.
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