The story of a young boy with severe disabilities, as seen by others around him.
I have a neighbor kid who lives a few houses down from us; yet it is a rare thing when he is out of his home.
York Patterson is eleven years old and not like most kids his age. For one thing, he is severely disabled: he's in a wheelchair most of the time: can't walk, can't talk, can't do very much for himself. I don't know what his exact problem is, but it's affected just about every part of his young life.
York rides the "special needs" bus every morning on school days; on weekends he usually stays home, where his mom (and a visiting nurse) can tend to his needs. He is tube-fed; he is not toilet-trained. Being like an infant, he requires total care.. He can't take care of himself.
I have seen York for the past year, and have gotten to know him. I see him most mornings, waiting for the bus, with his nurse by his side; she goes to school with him, so she can help him in any way possible, in case any problems should happen to pop up. He is bound to get sick when one least expects it because his body is so fragile.
He often ends up in the hospital when he gets sick. The last time he did, an ambulance had to be called to his house, and it was so bad he nearly died. We were scared for him.
Eventually, York did get better, but he came home, looking thinner and weaker. It took a very long time for him to get over his illness. (He had pneumonia and he choked.)
York has a family who loves him; they are more than willing to help him, but at times it gets overwhelming. This is where the visiting nurse comes into the picture. She is very good at helping him through whatever crisis he may have, and his family is grateful to have her medical expertise; she gives them a most needed break.
People act afraid of York because they aren't used to seeing a child who is so--disabled. He looks like an alien with his special fancy wheelchair, helmet (worn to prevent him from injuring himself when he has a seizure), belly tube, and small, drooly smile. He can't talk; he does make his feelings known by his expression or noises he makes.
I am not too bothered by York; I am getting used to being around him. He has a good natured sense about him; he wouldn't harm a fly on your head even if he could.
He is always smiling or laughing; the only times he isn't is when he is sick or tired. He loves to be read to, loves watching sports on tv or hanging around us at school when he's not in class.
At lunch he sits with us, at our table, feeding tube going. It takes about an hour for the stuff to empty from the bag that hangs upside down from a pole; it's sort of like an I.V. except there's liquid nutrition in the bag instead of solid food. Medications can be hung from the IV pole as well, which enters through the tube.
Sometimes York will smell bad; it's because he pooped his diapers again. The nurse changes him without fail, and she makes sure no one belittles him or calls him a baby.
She knows that he is severely disabled; it's just a part of who he is and what his disabilities entail. People that don't know him try to make fun of him, but they are very quickly put in place.
I like York; he is a wonderful teacher in making people feel for those who are different; he teaches them that, despite his differences, he is more like you or I than you may think. People learn things like empathy, compassion, and love from him. He is more than willing to give you his time if you give him a chance, a chance he rightly deserves.
I am a better person because of knowing York. He is definitely one of my friends. I'm glad I know him. He's a great kid.
Disable children can teach a thing or two to the ones that are not, our societe will then benefit from knowledge instead of persisting about making more screens to hide the ones which we can't or are incapable to help.
Georg
A great story. You are a caring voice for disabled people. When I've seen disabled people, I've often wondered what they would say if they could tell us what they feel and think. You do a fine job of giving us examples.
This is an excellent write, if all children could learn from those who are disabled
God Bless
Michelle~
Reviewed by chris stienstra
9/24/2007
This letter is inspirational! We sometimes never "see" the person through the disability. We get lost in the sympathy instead of the individual personality. I am so glad I read this tonight. thank you, thank you, thank you.....
Chris
This is a powerful letter: outward apprearances can be deceiving; if more people would take the time to get the person inside the "shell" (their outer skin), they'd normally find a great person within. Well done! VERY well done.
What a Tale is told in this delightful story of Didge the wayward little Roo.
Catch up with him as he turns the Billabong from a Dull everyday water hole, to a lively, fun place, through many adventures and conquests.
This book was written for children to stress the importance of being able to choose who gets to hug or touch them and being able to say NO if they don't want to be hugged or touched.
