"Disabled" is a Mindset

“Mom, all these kids are disabled.   This is a hospital for disabled kids, isn’t it?  Does that mean I’M disabled, too?”  Noah looked around the waiting room at the children with walkers and wheelchairs and hooked up to various tubes and machines.  For the first time after several visits to the hospital we’ve been taking him to, he’d just realized it’s a hospital that treats children with disabilities.  With tears threatening and a voice in my head screaming at me not to panic, I said, “No, you are absolutely NOT disabled.  And don’t EVER let anyone tell you that you are.  We brought you to this hospital because they have the best and smartest specialists to help us help you learn how to work with your Asperger’s.”  Then I hugged my beautiful son reassuringly, excused myself and made a mad dash for the bathroom where I could cry safely.   This has been my biggest and most difficult heartbreak: no matter how much I’ve tried to protect him, my child has been diagnosed with a disability.

I remember when my rheumatologist told me I was officially disabled.   I even had paperwork to that effect for work, for driving, for insurance.  My first thought was, “I have a 12 month old.  I’m a preschool teacher.  I don’t have time to be disabled.”  As I got worse though, I had to agree with her.  I grew to hate that word.  It’s such an ugly, dirty word.  Disability.  Nine years later, I no longer think of myself as disabled.  I still carry the paperwork for legal reasons, but on a good day, I’m as able-bodied as a healthy person.  For me, it was a mindset in many ways.  Once I got past the ugly, dirty word, I became more ABLED.  The last thing I’ve ever wanted (any parent would want) is for either of my children to have a disability of any kind.  When Shawn and I first started investigating Asperger’s, we kept seeing that ugly, dirty word.  Disability.  We made a pact with each other that we would protect Noah from it no matter what.  He would have to know that he has Asperger’s, but we would not treat this as a disability or him as disabled, nor would we allow anyone else to do so.  He’s our son and we’re going to protect him.  We can’t protect him from all the animosity he’ll face in this world, but we can protect him that ugly, dirty word.  We will teach him that he is ABLED.   And we will teach him to speak with authority on just how ABLED he is.

My mom gave Noah Nick Vujicic’s book Life Without Limits for his birthday (if you haven’t heard of this guy yet, check him out—truly inspirational!).  The first chapter, “If You Can’t Get A Miracle, Become One,” immediately drew Noah into the book.  Noah asked me why the book is titled as it is.  I said, “Well, I’m betting that because he was born without arms and legs, people have told him he’s disabled and there are certain things he can’t do because of that.  And I’m betting that HE’S told people that he doesn’t consider himself disabled and not having arms and legs doesn’t mean he can’t do the same things we do, it just means he does them differently.”   We talked about how disabilities can be a mindset.  Some people are truly disabled, so we talked about what makes them that way, then we talked about what a mindset disability might be—for example, being told you can’t do something and believing it, instead of trying it yourself just to be sure.  Noah mulled that over for a bit, then I heard him say from the backseat, “I know why he was born without arms and legs.  It wasn’t an accident and it wasn’t because something went wrong when he was being made inside his mom. God made him that way because that’s how He needs him to look when he does God’s work.”   The light bulb had officially gone off in Noah’s head.  Now, please tell me how I’m supposed to jump up and down with excitement while I’m driving when my son has an amazing revelation like that?!  OMGosh!  My child has actually been listening to everything I’ve been telling him (and if he’s been listening to that, that means he’s listening to other things too—uh-oh!)!!!!!  This was a huge breakthrough.  I’ve been telling him that even though I don’t have the answers, I know he wasn’t born with Asperger’s by accident or because something is wrong with him.  I’ve told him that I can’t explain why it happened, all I know is that this is how God made him so he can do the work God needs him to do.  It is HUGE when a child with Asperger’s can apply something like that abstractly, outside of himself.  I’m so proud of him on so many levels right now!

Noah came to me later to tell me that I’m right, he’s not disabled.  And if those kids in the waiting room at the hospital don’t want to be disabled either, all they have to do is decide to be a miracle, like Nick did.  Oh, my dear wise child, you have so much to teach this world. 

Medical science says Noah is disabled.  WE know he’s ABLED.