Disability and my cat Claude

As I mentioned in my initial post, I have type 1 diabetes. One of the side effects people know about is that people with diabetes can pass out due to an insulin reaction (meaning the diabetic has too much insulin in their system at that particular time). If a diabetic checks his / her blood sugar regularly and is cognizant of the physical warning signs, which diminish the longer one has diabetes, then hopefully severe reactions can be avoided. But, this particular illness means people have to use glucometers and needles or an insulin pump as a mechanical pancreas. And with all mechanics, even under the tightest watch, things break down. Well, a few years ago in the middle of the night, I woke up from a fitful sleep confused and lost and in a cold sweat. Having a vague sense that I was in the midst of a serious low, I straggled my way down stairs and opened the refrigerator. My blood sugar was so low, though, I didn’t know what I was looking for, and so just stared. My legs were wobbly and I was shaking. Eventually, I remember my hand hitting the counter top as I tried to grab it on my way to the floor. I lay on the floor feeling overwhelmed and uncertain as to what was going on. One of my family’s cats, Claude, came up to me and began to rub his head onto my face. This struck me as odd, as he was not an overly affectionate cat. He kept rubbing his head onto my face. I struggled up, and crawled my way back to the fridge, which was still open. I grabbed a ginger ale soda and drank it. I slowly began to become better aware of my surroundings. I then drank some orange juice. I was then aware enough to know where I was, and more importantly who I was. I closed the fridge and leaned next to the counter for a several minutes, before feeling well enough to go back upstairs. The thing that stays with me about this incident is Claude’s reaction. He clearly knew something was wrong, and responded with concern. It’s hard to know if this was simply Claude’s reaction or a general feline instinct to sense trouble and respond. I often wonder how much animals know and, like this situation, it does sometimes seem they have an emotional understanding of people. Certainly animals have similar instincts of power and territory and self-preservation. This occurrence has been a good lesson for me, though, that when something unexpected happens to a person, whether we know them or not, the best response we can give is often simply to be with the person and offer whatever relaxed, gentle pro-active assistance we have available to us.

Dinner with "Pete"

Well, this post is more of a personal nature. On Wednesday evening, I got an unexpected call from a guy who I'll call "Pete." I know Pete from volunteer work I did a couple of years ago. Pete is in his early to mid fifties and he has trouble reading and writing. The two of us would meet once a week for an hour and a half and study the fundamentals of reading and writing. Part of the reason for his struggles, I'm sure, but was never diagnosed, is some form of learning disability. Another reason, which was medically diagnosed, came as a result of some chemicals he worked with while employed as a custodian. The chemicals did damage to parts of his brain. In actuality, Pete is a bright guy. About twenty years ago, even though at the time he was close to illiterate, he figured out the numbers to the stock market and invested and made a decent sum of money from his ventures. He also is quite gifted with his hands. He can build or repair just about anything. When we first met about three years ago, he told me that he got called stupid a lot. He said he'd had employers and even some teachers either state or imply that he was dumb. He said he signed up for the program, because he wanted to show those people they were wrong. By the time I'd met him, he'd used this agency's services for a few years, and his reading and writing had gone from close to illiterate to about a seventh or eight grade level. As he and I worked together, over time he got better and better with his language skills. He never did pass his G.E.D. (General Equivlancy Diploma), but he worked hard and learned quite a lot. He also gained more confidence in himself. When I saw him at dinner this past Wednesday he told me about a new job he had assembling bikes and furniture and grills for a national department store. He was getting the most money he'd ever made, and now could read through the contracts and the health care and life insurance policies so he would know what he was signing and what was the best plan for him. He said his boss treated him well and with respect. Pete was relaxed and comfortable with who he was and felt good about the direction his life was going. Pete demonstrates to me what reading and writing can do for a person, but also what perseverance can do. If I were called dumb and stupid by bosses and teachers I don't think I'd have the guts that Pete continues to show. He keeps moving forward, proving doubters and detractors wrong each step along the way.

Some observations about "I'm Not Down" by the Clash

I've always been a big fan of the band The Clash. I think Joe Strummer and Mic Jones wrote some of the best lyrics in pop punk / rock music history. Below, I've copied and pasted the lyrics to a song, "I'm Not Down," that the two wrote together.


"If it's true a rich man leads a sad life
That's what they say, from day to day
Then what do the poor do with their lives?
On judgment day, with nothin' to say?

I've been beat up, I've been thrown Out
But I'm not down, Oh I'm not down
I've been shown up, but I've grown up
And I'm not down, Oh I'm not down

On my own I faced a gang of jeering
In strange streets
When my nerves were pumping out
I fought my fear in, I didn't run
I was not done

I've been beat up, I've been thrown out
But I'm not down, No I'm not down
I've been shown up, but I've grown up
And I'm not down, No I'm not down

So I have lived, that kind of day
When none of your sorrows will go away
Go down and down and hit the floor
Down and down and down some more
Depression
But I know, there'll be some way
When I can swing everything back my way
Like skyscrapers, rising up
Floor by floor, I'm not giving up

So you rock around and think that
You're the toughest
In the world, the whole wide world
But you're streets away from where
It gets the roughest
You ain't been there."

True, the lyrics to this song could be given a Marxist reading, but I think the words apply to Disability Studies, as well. A part of Disability Studies is a situation called "the stare;" a sense that the public or others are staring at you simply because you are a person with a disability. In this song, the speaker feels not just stared at, but "jeered" at due to two circumstances; he is poor and depressed. It is inferred that his depression is brought about due to the poverty; the two go hand in hand. Even though this song came out off the London Calling album in UK in 1979, the ideas apply to contemporary America. The New York Times has been running a series of articles about class in the U.S. They had an article a few days ago about the link between life expectancy and income level (here's the url to the article: http://query.nytimes.com/gst/health/article-page.html?res=980DE3DC1F30F935A25756C0A9639C8B63 .) The implications in the article, as in the song, is that health is seen as something belonging to the rich; in essence, the poor deserve to be sick and / or depressed simply because they are poor. The song contains optimism: "I know, there'll be some way / When I can swing everything back my way," and "I've been beat up, I've been thrown out / But I'm not down, No I'm not down." But the optimism is self-reliant; he's not expecting anyone else to help him to overcome his struggles and sometimes depression. And the song ends on a cautionary note: "you're streets away from where / It gets the roughest / You ain't been there." I chose this song for this blog because I believe it warns that too often people who are are seen as an "other" are mistreated and cast aside, when anyone wants, whether rich or poor, is a simple thing, to be accepted.

Welcome

My name is Steve and I am a graduate student getting my MA in English at SUNY Cortland. I am at about the midway point of doing my master's paper. For the paper I'm applying the literary theory of Disability Studies to the two non-fiction books of Andre Dubus. However, this blog will not be focused on Andre Dubus nor his non-fiction work. Instead, on this blog, I will be posting observations about articles, songs, poems, writings, TV, whatever, by applying the theory of Disability Studies to a given piece. I became interested in this field of study because I got diabetes at nine months old, and have had some of the more serious side-effects of the illness. Over time I've come to see that how people treat each other often depends on how well the body is functioning. Most people in modern day America, even if a lot of us are out of shape, want to present ourselves as healthy; which is fine, but when the body breaks down, how then, amidst this health/image driven society, does one respond? People who have clearly visible disabilities cannot hide their situations, and thus are often treated as an "other," as a person not worth associating with. A person with a hidden chronic situation, such as myself, has a choice, but still has to decide how to handle the case. Does a person continue to try and hide the situation? - most likely holding a sense of fear that the ailment may be uncovered by someone. Or does a person speak about the condition? - risking the person will be treated differently now that people know he or she has a physical challenge. As stated above, these questions and ideas will be explored via a variety of forms and media. We'll see what happens. Stay tuned.