Here's the way I do it when I don't have a second pair of hands to assist:
We've nearly completed the recommended two weeks of this and I can't discern an iota of improvement. C. still bends her left leg most of the time and locks her right exactly as she did before. A return visit to the physio seems unavoidable. Wonder what his next Rx will be?
Every Monday, when I pick up my granddaughter, I'm exposed to many children and young adults with disabilities who enjoy afternoon activities at the center where her kindergarten is. Most have Downs, a few isolated children are in wheelchairs, most are rambunctious, many seem to give their volunteer aides a challenging time. I watch them enviously; if only my C. were capable of just a fraction of the what they do.
I've begun the process of acquiring a wheelchair-accessible swing for a park in our city. We currently don't have any. In fact, it seems there is only one in the entire country - in a distant city.
My first step was to locate and speak to the appropriate person in the municipality and learn from her what is required to accomplish that. Next, I will email them details of the swing, the location we'd like and its cost. We now await a response from the swing's manufacturer regarding its price. We intend to crowd-source for its funding.
Here's the swing I'm talking about:
In the meantime, our leading local institutionalizer of people with disabilities continues its concerted PR campaign. The goal is to convince the public - and particularly, the public with cash to donate - that those institutions are the salvation of the disabled population.
Lately, it's been harping on the "inclusion" theme. Ad nauseum. Of course, you may find that perplexing. I mean, in what conceivable way is locking people up in isolated, large institutions remotely related to inclusion?
Well, nobody over here seems troubled by that conundrum. Except for the Hubby and I. And so the cash - from donors and government alike - continues to flow to those warehouse institutions. And I continue to seethe.
2 comments:
How incredibly frustrating about the swing. We have many of these accessible playgrounds here in Los Angeles. I actually have one of the swings in my backyard -- I wish your C could come over and use it. I sat and watch the video of you walking with her -- these neurological things are so beyond frustrating. You are good to keep going. I know how hard it is to do so.
Thanks so much for your encouragement, Elizabeth. I am astounded to hear that this is a commonly found swing in your parts. Just riles me up even more than I usually am about the treatment of people with disabilities over here.
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