So I Did A Thing…Disability & All

I’m still learning how to navigate life with a disability. I haven’t taught CPR or first aid in years and I used to love it. Turns out I was really good at it, too. I loved seeing things click for students in class and watching them leave confident that if they witnessed an emergency, they could step in to help. I taught all levels of CPR and first aid, and some years teaching emergency medical responders. EMRs are the first level of EMS where I live.

That all came to a grinding halt at the end of 2019 when my brain broke. In early 2020 the pandemic was declared. The last nearly five years, I’ve been trying to adjust to my new (utter bullshit) normal. I’m just focusing on getting by while having a disability.

My old life was physically demanding,

Not even counting the stuff I did for fun! Everything I did for work was physical as well. Working on an ambulance, but also teaching. The equipment was heavy and awkward. Demonstrating skills required a lot of getting down onto the floor and then back up. I also spent a lot of walking around to observe and coach students.

Months ago, a beloved client of mine asked if we could teach her community group how to use the centre’s AED and maybe review a couple other things. I’m not a current instructor and I can’t certify anyone in anything. They didn’t need certificates, she told me. They just wanted the learning and to get comfortable with the defibrillator if ever it was needed.

Could I do it?

I asked my good friend who also used to teach if she’d join me because the group was 18 people. She agreed. My husband drove me to the city and also set up the training mannequins. It would have taken me forever, especially since I’d bought them back in 2019. Life got really bad after that so I’d never actually used them.

I made a power point for the first time in years. I reviewed the protocols since CPR changes fairly regularly, inspected the mannequins, and rented several AED trainers for the day.

Then it was the day.

This group of people didn’t bat an eye that I use a cane. There wasn’t any vibe that anyone thought I couldn’t teach the material because I have a visible disability.

No one was overly solicitous, either. Usually if I’m out and about, people can be helpful to the point it gets weird. For example, I can get down on the floor and back up with little problem. I can squat down to pick things up, I can go up on my toes to reach for things.

Which is rare that I have to since I’m nearly six feet tall, but I can do it. Especially if I have something solid I can put a hand on for stability, but even without.

It’s very kind when people rush to help me with something or tell me not to kneel down or what have you, but it’s often unnecessary. I’m always kind in return, but sometimes it’s aggravating. I’m not a child, and I’m not useless or low-functioning

I get more visibly frustrated with my husband than strangers because he’s ridiculously helpful whether I want it or not, but that’s a post for another day. My husband is too adoring, sucks to be me.

I digress…

The participants were split into pairs. Each AED trainer had a different scenario programmed into it. After several minutes of CPR and AED practice, the partners would move to the next station where they’d get to do a different scenario. I walked around to observe each group, crouched down on the floor often to give feedback, got back up and repeated several times.

Not once did anyone tell me not to squat down to join them on the floor with a horrified look on their face, or move to help me stand back up. They saw me as the instructor who was helping them learn how to help someone in cardiac arrest, and I happened to use a cane. They saw my function first, the disability last. It’s often the opposite, and sometimes I’m never given the opportunity to show function or capability.

Most of them were a generation older than myself and the co-instructor, so maybe they understand that being able-bodied is temporary?

Whatever the reason, it helped shift my mindset. Maybe I’ve spent too much time in my head worried about how I’m perceived based on some early bad experiences after I woke up disabled. Perhaps I’ve acquiesced to my husband too much since my nervous system broke and I don’t need as much help as he insists on giving me. Maybe I’m more of a functional adult than my loved ones let me be.

I’ve had several good days since, and my summer is shaping up to be the busiest summer ever for my business. It could be potentially lucrative, the most lucrative year I’ve ever had for any job. Logistically, it’s terrifying. It would be challenging even if I was able-bodied and healthy, like back when I could function without sleep for days and be working around the clock.

Now?

I hope I can pull it off, and I hope I don’t have anymore bad days until late fall when all my contracts are over.

But I taught a class in which the students saw my disability last, and that was just what I needed.