|
|
|
|||||
 |
||||||
Post-Polio Health (ISSN 1066-5331)
Vol. 12, No. 2, Spring 1996
Excerpted from 30th Anniversary Edition, Rehabilitation Gazette, Vol. 29, Nos. 1 and 2; presented at the Sixth International Post-Polio and Independent Living Conference, June 1994
Living with Disability
Joyce Ann Tepley, LMSW/ACP, LPC, Board Certified in Clinical Social Work, Dallas, Texas
I was nine years old when I got polio. It was the summer of 1952. A few days later my brother, who was only eight months old, was also admitted.
At the time, I had no idea how difficult the whole ordeal was for my mother and father. They never showed me the fear they had that I would not be able to walk. They protected me from their financial worries. They were always encouraging. They made enormous sacrifices in time and effort, driving for two hours each day they came to see me. They did not want me to feel neglected. Over the years I have received much recognition for what I have been able to do with my life "despite my disability," but the unsung heroes are my parents.
By the spring of 1953, the hospital had done its job well and I was ready to go home. For the first time since the day I got polio I was scared. Though my family did everything they could to help me adjust to my new physical limits but still live a full life, I struggled for a long time with a strong feeling of not being good enough. I felt different and damaged. Though my physical rehabilitation was impeccably good, little attention was paid to my feelings. I remember being continually complimented about my brave smile and cheerful disposition. Only my diaries knew how depressed and ashamed I felt. I was different.
While I was trying to learn to walk without my braces, my brother was learning to stand up using my wheelchair pedals for support. We were expected to do chores. A good education was emphasized and provided for. Our parents did not want us to go to a "special" school for "crippled children." They wanted us to deal with real life situations, not to be too sheltered. In retrospect, I am grateful for the sound education I was given, but there was also a high expectation put on me to develop my mental abilities since I did not have a strong body.
Each year my mother participated in the Mother's March in our neighborhood. One of the services provided us was two weeks at Camp Cheerful during the summer. I went when I was fourteen and fifteen. It was the highlight of my childhood and the beginning of my adulthood. So much of my adolescence I was haunted by feelings of inadequacy and lack of self-confidence. But at camp I felt normal.
I went a thousand miles off to college. It was a big risk to go away so far to college, but my parents continually encouraged my independence. I graduated with a degree in social work. I went on to graduate school in Texas and in 1967 started my career working for a mental health clinic in Dallas.
From age 15 until my early 40s I have been stabilized in my disability. I have tried to think of it as merely an inconvenience. I was active in the disabled rights movement as president and founding board member of our Dallas center for independent living. Through that experience I learned to take pride in myself as a disabled person.
Joyce Ann Tepley's Ten Axioms for Living with Polio
1. Approach one's life from the inside out.
2. Anything one does physically comes from an idea first.
3. Work with intention rather than will power.
4. Attitude is more important than activity.
5. An attitude is an idea blended with emotion. It is the most powerful energy in the world.
6. One can profit from a negative attitude just as from a positive attitude. It does not matter as long as one has an attitude of learning.
7. Living is a process, not a goal.
8. Living well depends more on how one learns from one's experiences rather than on what one accomplishes.
9. Wisdom is a truer measure of one's worth than how many things one owns or how much one does.
10. To be discovered within the next 30 years.