Do It Myself Blog – Glenda Watson Hyatt

Recently I discovered a quite acceptable alternative to my favourite beverage, an iced mocha: chocolate-covered coffee beans! Popping a few of those yummies in my mouth was way easier than going out for a cold beverage. They were on the verge of becoming addictive until…

I bit into one that seemed as hard as a rock. It felt like a jagged piece scratched my gum, which I was aware of when I ate but I didn’t think any more of it.

A few days later the apparent scratch was still bugging me. I stuck in a finger to feel for the scratch and, much to my surprise, a tooth wiggled like a loose tooth. Huh? I didn’t dare try again to confirm in case I caused more damage. But, I had a sinking, panicky feeling that I had cracked or broken my back molar. Up until now, most of my dental work in my thirty-fifteen years has been done in hospital under general anaesthesia – an experience I have absolutely no desire of reliving.

Monday morning Darrell called the wheelchair repair guy to cancel the pick-up of his power wheelchair and put the repairs on hold for another week. We had to get to the dentist and couldn’t wait around for the guy to show up.

Thankfully the 5 centimetres of snow had not materialized overnight and, except for wishing power chairs came with onboard heaters, we made it to the dentist without incident.

After poking around in my mouth, the dentist, without saying a word to me, went out to Darrell to deliver the news. After living this game for 45 years, I should be used to people, particularly medical professionals, not speaking directly to me. But, it still hurts, still stings. I was on the verge of tears.

Just because you don’t understand me (due to a lack of even trying) does not mean I do not understand you. Speak directly to me, especially when it concerns me and my health.

I called for Darrell and we quickly corrected the dentist’s uncertainty of me being able to understand him.

The verdict, after four x-rays, which is not easy with shaky cerebral palsy and an over active gag reflex: one broken tooth and one cracked tooth. He was able to remove the broken hunk. Now I need that tooth crowned or extracted, and the other tooth filled or crowned. The Ministry does not cover crowns, of course.

i now need to find a dentist who can do the work in the office; again, tricky with athetoid cerebral palsy. Otherwise I face a hospitalization, which I really want to avoid if at all possible. I am all for facing one’s fears, but some are meant to be left alone and, based on previous experiences, being in hospital can be left in my distant past.

I have learned to stick with my coffee in cold, liquid form. It is less expensive and less terrifying that way.

After sharing my 7 lessons learned from traveling, I discovered another one I need to learn before my next conference: how to protect myself against wicked air-conditioning?

The Los Angeles Convention Centre could have saved a bundle on its hydro bill by turning down the air-conditioning. By the second day of BlogWorld Expo, many people were coughing and sniffing. My scratchy throat told me what was coming next.

Rather than Darrell and I spending our only “vacation” day this year exploring Hollywood, I spent the day in bed. Disappointed? Yes, definitely. Regret? No, I don’t think so. I was in no shape to go out. BlogWorld will be in LA for at least two years. We will try again next year; perhaps go down a day early and do Hollywood before the conference.

While I finish recovering from this nasty cold and subsequent allergic reaction to Vicks VapoRub (the first such reaction in my thirty-fifteen years), I like to share three of my favourite blogs, which you might also enjoy reading:

• Caleigh’s Corner: After much agonizing thought about what is best for their precious daughter at this time, Caleigh’s parents have opted for homeschooling. She marble painted pumpkins for Halloween. How fun!
• Fighting Monsters with Rubber Swords: After a few less-than-encouraging years, Schuyler finally has teachers who believe in her! What a concept, eh? Read her father Robert’s Season of Gratitude. For the complete story, grab a copy of Schuyler’s Monster: A Father’s Journey with His Wordless Daughter
• A Deaf Shares Her World: My friend Karen lost her hearing while barefoot waterskiing as a teen. Guess what she is doing now…and she is rocking it!

Happy reading!

Feel free to share your favourite blogs in the comment section below.

Preparing for my sixth trip – the fifth across the border – in slightly more than a year has felt too easy, too routine. What am I missing?

Based on experience, my travelling preparation includes:

1. Filling out an US Customs Declaration card ahead of time on my trusty typewriter. It saves needing assistance to complete it at the airport.
2. Updating the saved document for a Canadian Customs Declaration card and print. I have yet to score a supply of Canadian forms because they are typically handed out onboard; hence, I need assistance from a flight attendant.
3. Packing my scooter battery charger in my bag, space permitting, rather than the pouch on the back of my chair. This way there is one less piece to keep track of while going through airport security.
4. Thoroughly washing my hands after handling my charger. I have a hunch my charger had something to do with the chemical detected on my hands while going through security in Austin.
5. Double checking the extension cord is still in the bottom of my bag. This can be handy in a hotel room if an outlet isn’t easily reachable to plug in my scooter once I am in bed. (My scooter’s headlight also comes in handy in that moment.)
6. Double checking the small bar of soap is still in my bag (like it would go anywhere). The plastic wrapped soap bars found in some hotels are very tricky to open. In Austin I had to wash with shampoo. At least my armpits didn’t have dandruff!
7. Spending a ridiculous amount of time exploring Google maps, zoomed right in, to get a sense of the sidewalk conditions and such in the area.

Let see what I learn from this next trip. Darrell and I leave early tomorrow morning for Los Angeles for BlogWorld Expo.

The universal forces are pulling me towards ISAAC  2012 – the 15th Biennial Conference of the International Society for Augmentative and Alternative Communication – to be held in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, July 28 to August 4, 2012.

These forces aren’t only pulling me to attend, but also to present at ISAAC 2012, which only makes sense. There is little point in going all that way only to sit and listen; I might as well contribute to the conversation.

Presenting means first submitting a paper, which isn’t impossible; I submitted a successful proposal for South by Southwest (SXSW) 2010 and a joint paper for the 26th Annual International Technology & Persons with Disabilities Conference (CSUN 2010). However, the catch is that proposals are due the day before Darrell and I leave for Los Angeles to attend BlogWorld 2011. Of course. Completing one trip before even considering the next one is not an option. Obviously that isn’t how universal forces roll.

With those thoughts zinging around in my head, I then began thinking about one of my items on my bucket list…this is where writing down things, publicly, becomes hazardous because people (including yourself) can remind you of it and hold you to it.

The item in question is “climb the stairs at Philadelphia Museum of Art with the spirit of Rocky Balboa". Philadelphia and Pittsburgh are, at least, in the same state; close enough for considering doing both on the same trip.

Crazy?

Perhaps.

But…why not? Life is too precious not to make the most of it!

I keep thinking of small business adviser and speaker Charlie Gilkey’s motto, “Do Epic Shit”. Surely this would qualify.

Philadelphia’s Museum of Art has only 72 steps to conquer! Together, my lifelong friend Karen, my cousin Craig and I climbed 81 stairs before zipping across Robson Square. And that was while I was still recovering from a nasty cold. What is 72 stairs when I have 10 months to prepare? (Any trainers out there?) Eye of the Tiger (song lyrics) will likely be the earworm that kicks my butt until next summer.

Other than devising a way to finance this crazy idea and putting together a support team, one hitch would be a heat wave; mid-summer in Pittsburgh may not be the wisest time of year. For that reason, this idea may need to be rethought.

First things first: submit a successful proposal before November 1st.

Stay tuned…

With the rest of the technologically innovative world, I am saddened by the passing, today, of Steve Jobs due to pancreatic cancer.

Damn cancer.

I have written many posts on how the iPad changed my life in a relatively short time; on how the iPad gave me an affordable, acceptable and cool communication device and how that has further opened the world and opportunities to me.

But one intended post I didn’t write – partly because I didn’t know how to express my sentiments and partly because I thought I still had time – was a thank you to Steve Jobs for his innovative vision and to the Apple Development Team for turning his vision into reality. 

Steve, your iPad gave me something that no other device has: a way to communicate with those who are not familiar with my unique accent Glenda-ish. I cannot find the words to express how grateful I am for that; something which others may brush off as insignificant, but, for me, is a life changer and hugely contributes to my independence.

And, I am not the only life you have changed with the iPad and other Apple devices. Because you were visionary enough to include accessibility in the product development phase, rather than as an afterthought, many people with disabilities have benefitted and have had their life changed.

For this, I thank you, a little too late. I just hope you knew, somehow, before today.

Thank you for your vision, for living your passion and for changing the world in the ways you did.

You will be missed.

(Please excuse any typos or other errors. Typing through tears  is difficult.)