Still.

[I'll go ahead and apologize for this post being dumb and how it seems to repeat things I've already said before.  I was just frustrated when I wrote this.  It only describes a very, very small fraction of what I was thinking.]

Still.

I was being interviewed for something today, and when the camera was briefly turned off and the interviewer was about to pack up, I decided to let down my guard.  I was all smiles before that moment, as I almost always am.  Even as I discussed the true state of the last two years, I continued to smile and spoke of it as if I was summarizing a book I had just read.

“These past two years haven’t been all smooth sailing for me.  I’m not sure if you are aware of this or not, but I also suffered a traumatic brain injury at the time of my accident,” I said and discussed the extent of the injury for a few minutes.  This is not something anyone can physically see. 

“During my first year of medical school, of course there were times when I questioned if I should be there or not, if I was going to make it or not.  Somehow I made it,” I continued.  “There were times when I was really depressed.  It was as if everything I had ever known was gone.  I was a completely different person now.  My mind worked completely different.  I didn’t how to handle it.”  I know everyone has experienced working hard and not having the results to reflect the effort, but I don’t know too many people who can say that they would have been able to get results before an unexpected incident occurred in their life.  That now, they will have to relearn how to learn, relearn how to function, and relearn how thrive.  It was like being born again.   The frustration that came with this was almost unbearable.  “Why can’t I just be normal, or at least the way I used to be,” I would ask myself.

I continued, “Second year, I was much more relaxed.  But again, in the beginning, I was struggling.  So I finally decided to get myself checked out to see what exactly was going on.  It turns out, I wasn’t dumb.  I mean, I wouldn’t be surviving medical school if I was dumb.  I scored fairly well on all sections of the neuropsychological tests, but still there was something lacking.  I had to make more changes.  I took the recommendations that were given to me by the neuropsychologist, and now, I am seeing progress.”

I realize that I have mentioned this all on here before, but I don’t think I can truly express these thoughts in a way that can be fully understood.

Still.  After so long, there are still some things that make me ask, “Is this real?”

I was watching a video of myself today and I couldn’t help but feel… somewhat embarrassed.  That’s what happens when I see photos or videos of myself:  I get to see myself in the way others see me.  Do people even remember what I looked like standing, walking, running, exercising, and being crazy?  I know I have a real hard time remembering.  A lot of people I talk to now, including all my classmates, only know this current state.

I recently made another new friend and I realized I am embarrassed of my disability around her.  Although I think I have a feeling I know why, I still do not like this friend seeing me transfer off and on my wheelchair from different places.  I am also embarrassed by how skinny my legs have become.  I saw my legs in the video of myself that I watched, and I was disgusted.  I remember I used to do heavy squats and deadlifts because my relatively small frame and years of running left me with fairly thin legs, but my current state is enough to leave me self-conscious.  Wearing shorts all day and stopping by the gym whenever I take a break from studying is something that will have to be postponed for a while.

Who have I become?

I had many plans for my life.  We all know life doesn’t always go as planned, but I wish there was a way I could have anticipated this.  I know everything I have ever experienced has prepared me, but now, like everyone else, I just wish I knew what the future will have in store for me.

Will there be more turmoil?  Will more things be thrown at me?

I have to remind myself that this is who I am.  This is who I have become.  There is no way to reverse time.  Everything in the past has passed, never to return again.  

Making grand plans for it

So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It's always the last day of summer and I've been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I'll grant you I've had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they're making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I've left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there's almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door.

         -Blow

I sometimes think about how much my thoughts, views, and actions have changed since the start of my predicament.  Well, more than those is just the change in feelings I have had.

Over time, I have become incredibly used to things.  Things are no longer out of the ordinary and I’m not self-conscious about people viewing me strangely anymore.  I honestly don’t feel any different from anyone else.

But occasionally, I am given reminders.  Someone will say something to me that really knocks me flat.  When I am reminded of how different I am from everyone else and how adjustments have been made and will have to be made, and how much it not only affects me, but other people as well, it is indeed a setback.  “How irreparably changed my life has become,” and the rest of the above quote goes through my mind.

The truth is:  yes, I am different.  I am not like “normal” people.  I can’t do some things and I have to do other things in a slightly different way.

So, does writing that make me feel strange or exposed for who I really am?

No, no it does not.

Almost exactly 2 years ago, I wrote a post entitled “Compensate ”.  In it, I describe how because I cannot do certain things like others, I must compensate in other areas of my life.  For example, I am living completely alone and going to medical school and working 3x harder than most people I know just to sort of “prove myself” to the naysayers and doubters.

Although I still feel like I have to compensate and work harder just to be treated a certain way, my views have slightly shifted.

Changes happen.

Obstacles come up.

For some people, they are large, and for others, they seem almost petty.

The early 20th century lawyer Clarence Darrow said it best, “It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but rather the one most adaptable to change.”

Things have happened.  I am different.  There is no avoiding the obvious.

In poker, when we are dealt a certain set of cards, we have the choice to either fold the hand or keep playing.

Keep playing.

Some people expect peace of mind and happiness to be a destination.  “I can’t be happy with this in the way.  I have this thing going on. Other people don’t have to deal with it,” they may say. They really wish and pray that a certain thing will happen—whatever it is—so they can be happy. 

Things in life don’t always happen as we expect. I never would have guessed I would be like this and be where I am now. Like everyone, I also sometimes feel like nothing in life is going my way.

“But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent,” I have to say to myself, repeating the quote from above.

Do not ever wish for so much that you stop being thankful for what you have.  Do not wish for different circumstances.  The ones you have are good enough.  Find peace in this, for finding peace when you have nothing is better than chaos when you have something.

As Clarence Darrow said, it is the one most adaptable to change that survives.

Let it in

I was reading some of the things that political candidates, journalists, and news broadcasters have said recently on various topics and all I could do was shake my head.

It surprises and saddens me how easy it is that people are united under the banner of ignorance, intolerance and/or hate.

Is anger really a much stronger emotion than love?

I can take my case as an example. As I have mentioned before, people who have lived lives able-bodied and are then confined by a disability may be hot-headed and angry. They lash out at spouses, parents, children, friends, strangers, and God.
Why is this happening to me?
Why me, God?
You people will never understand what I am going through.
You will never know what it's like.
You all live such happy lives.
I’m sick of not being able to do things.
This is so emasculating.
Stop your whining.
Those are just some of the things that people may think, say and believe.

Likely, on a much broader scale, when the nation was in economic turmoil and the morale of the people very low, Hitler was able to unite people through intolerance and hate. I also have to shake my head when I see how history repeats itself over and over again and how people are so blind to it.

As a friend in my class said to me once, "People always need someone to hate. Right now, it’s the Muslims and the homosexuals." 25 years ago, it was the Russians. Before that, it was the Communists. Tomorrow, it’ll be someone else.

Society is so easily brainwashed into hating a fellow human being that the most primal, animalistic emotions are expressed, even by those who are considered “educated”.

Anyways, I could go on and on about intolerance in society and how futile and childish (yet very effective in motivating masses of people) it is, but I want go in lightly different direction that I have touched on before.

Why do we even have hate?
Why do we talk bad about others?
Why do we consider ourselves better than other people?
Why do we stress?
Why can’t we accept circumstances, no matter how different they are, and carry on?

We may feel like those things empower us and drive us, but they enslave us. They control us. Even simple things that everyone feels—stress and/or worry—can and will control us.

Stop blaming other people. Stop blaming God. Stop blaming yourself.

Even the toughest situations—like a traumatic brain injury, a complete spinal cord injury, intense pain, endless adaptations and reminders of how unusual you are and what you can’t do, insecurities, emotions of others, betrayals, intolerance because you are different, and more—will all be just a simple, cool breeze.

Relax. Stop fearing. Stop worrying. Stop stressing.

Open your heart. Let love in.

Novelty no more

This spring break, I had the pleasure of making some cool new friends. That’s always nice.

One of them sent me a message a few days later that started with these exact words: When I first met you, as crazy as this sounds, I didn't really notice that you were in a wheelchair... I mean not literally speaking... I saw you in it, but I didn't get that “I’m different” vibe at all.

Earlier that day, I also had a talk in front of a sizable audience where I described different situations and had the audience give input on potential appropriate/inappropriate reactions. It wasn’t until the very end of the Q&A session at the end of my talk that someone even asked about my wheelchair or my situation.

After the new friend asked me several more questions, I started pondering her initial statement and our encounter. I replayed in my head the other recent friendships that have developed and my various interactions.

I remember when the wheelchair was still new for me (and my friends/family), I felt pretty awkward—and I don’t mean the awkward feeling I enjoy making other people feel. I just always felt that people were watching me and judging me when I was out at places. A friend tried telling me that I was probably just being a little paranoid, but I disagreed with him at the time.Thinking back to the things I said and did the year after my accident while in the hospital and at home and even during my first year of medical school, I’m kind of embarrassed.

When I think back to things that happened years ago before my accident, I always imagine them from the viewpoint of the wheelchair, for some odd reason.

Is this who I've become?

One employee in the hospital who had been in a wheelchair for many years told us about meeting new people and said, “My wheelchair is the least interesting thing about me.” I remember when she said that, I scoffed and thought she was just being super optimistic. “Come on, that can’t be true,” I thought.

But if you ask me now, I’ll tell you that she’s right. I’m not sure if it’s because I have gotten used to this and have just stopped feeling awkward and self-conscious, or that people—not just my friends—have stopped noticing me as being different. I can definitely see that my classmates and faculty members don’t see me as being different anymore. The fact that I feel new people don’t see me as being out of the ordinary may be due to a combination of my changed perceptions and their views when they see me.

I feel like the “novelty” of being a wheelchair has worn off. I’m not “that guy” anymore.

Is this why funding for spinal cord injury research is always lacking—because it’s not as flashy, in-your-face noticeable anymore? I mean, it’s not AIDS or cancer, but it still completely changes the lives of 11,000 new people in the United States each year(1).

People see the injury’s physical manifestations, but they don’t see the struggle. They don’t see the adaptations. They don’t see the sacrifices.

After all this time, I guess now I’m just me; I’m just Hammad. I’m not the “Hammad who’s in a wheelchair”. Well, I don’t know about other people, but at least I think of myself as “just Hammad” without any strings attached.

1. Spinal Cord Injury Information Pages. Last updated 02/14/2012. Accessed 03/17/2012.http://www.sci-info-pages.com/facts.html.

Do You Realize?

Do you realize – that you have the most beautiful face
Do you realize – we're floating in space
Do you realize – that happiness makes you cry
Do you realize – that everyone you know someday will die
And instead of saying all of your goodbyes – let them know
You realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It’s just an illusion caused by the world spinning round
-The Flaming Lips, “Do You Realize”

I know I haven’t posted anything in a long, long time. I have wanted to, but I just can’t find the right words.

I feel like I have been going through a sort of mini-“midlife crisis”. I put those words in quotes because that’s typically something that happens to people when they are much older. I think I have mentioned before, though, that at times, I feel much older than I actually am. It is as if the accident added several extra years onto my life. That period when I was in the hospital and afterwards at home really wasn’t that long, but it was a time when everything in my life seemed completely out of my control. So it feels like forever. It’s as if I fell asleep, went into a coma, and woke up years and years later.

Isn’t it interesting how two people can read the same thing, watch the same movie, or experience the same event and one may be profoundly affected by it while the other gets nothing out of it? Since I was a child, I’ve been fascinated by that.

I am not sure how to describe the many things that I have been thinking about and that leave me entranced. At times, some things I have contemplated have even left me deeply saddened. Other times, it makes me want to make some serious changes—changes in the way I live my life, changes in the way I interact with others, changes in the things I say or I do, and more. Probably the big overarching theme of everything I have been thinking about is time.

A combination of things made me start thinking about these things, including illnesses befallen upon those close to me, questions from a new friend regarding my disability, decisions on what I want to do in my future, patients I’ve met in the hospital, and even movies/television shows I have seen that just happen to strike a chord in me.

What are you doing right now? Are you happy?

Are you surrounding yourself with people that make you happy? Really?

You don’t want to wake up some years from now when you are having a real midlife crisis and ask yourself what you’ve done with your life, why you have that job, if it was worth it working so hard and neglecting your happiness and friendships when you had time, why you’re with that person, why you didn’t appreciate your parents when you had the opportunity—why you made every decision in your life. What will you do when the people closest to you have gone? What do you think they would say to you if they had just one last thing to say? Even more important, what would you tell yourself or other people if you had just one last thing to say?

You don’t want to be lying in a bed, thinking about how in order to get up and do what you want, you’re going to have to transfer on to a wheelchair, and be asking yourself, “Is this it? Is this my future? I can never get back those years I had running and playing? I can never go back? There’s no reset button?”

Value time. Each moment that goes by is a moment that can never be re-experienced. Every negative thing that we bring upon ourselves by the choices we make or the things we say is an insult upon what we have. Every minute you are doing something that doesn’t make you happy is a minute that can never be changed.

Here, try this: stop reading this and just stare at the clock for five minutes. Do it. Come on. It’s just five minutes. Then finish reading the post.

Didn’t that feel like forever? That’s five minutes you could have spent doing other things, but now you will never get back. If you actually did this, I apologize for asking you to do it. It was just to make a point. In the words of Mark Zimmerman, “Killing time is a subtle form of suicide.”

Thank you.

There have been a few things that I have wanted to mention for a long time but have not done so yet.

I would like to say thank you. I cannot begin to express my gratitude and appreciation for my family, friends, and people I don't even know who have been there for me.

I am very bad when it comes to reacting to kind words and support. When someone says something nice to me, I get awkward and say thank you and I may tell them how much it means to me. But I feel like that does not express how I feel. I really appreciate the nice things people say to me in real life or in comments. I am 110% undeserving of such kindness and compliments. These are all so incredibly encouraging and they mean so much to me. Each and every message, each and every word, each and every smile that I receive touches me in a unique way. I do not know what I do or have done to deserve such benevolence.

I also want to mention the purpose of my writings. This blog was simply started because I had written something for another web site that did not really take off, and I wanted a place to put what I had written. I had a friend help me edit the piece (which you can read here) and I was never a good writer, so I was actually pretty happy at how "official" something I had written turned out. After the first couple posts, people told me they liked it and wanted me to keep writing. I never thought people would actually be interested in the stupid stuff that goes through my mind.

For myself, this was and is very therapeutic. Writing out one's thoughts is like taking a look at things from a third person point of view. In addition, writing and the feedback and encouragement I receive has played a large part in my mental/emotional growth and progression.

So, once again, I want to say thank you. Thank you for being here for me. Thank you for reading. Thank you for giving me encouragement. You may never realize the real effect you have on me. But it's possible that I may not be where I am today if it was not for you. I love you.

Help!

[Once again, I apologize for not posting in a long time. Things with school and at home have been quite busy, as some of you know.]

I was listening to NPR on my way back to my apartment a few weeks ago. The host was interviewing someone who was talking about her disability.

The young woman being interviewed had some sort of progressive nervous system disorder, perhaps multiple sclerosis. The woman was married and seemed to be in her thirties. She described different scenarios caused by her disability, such as how there were times that she was so weak, her husband had to literally drag her up the stairs to bed.

Then she got on the topic of asking for help. She said how it was so embarrassing—so disheartening—to have to ask someone for some assistance. She did not like it at all when she had to ask for help or when someone asked if she needed help. Getting help from someone else was a crutch, in both the literal and figurative sense. She described it as something that breaks her spirit. She seemed to be speaking on behalf of people with disabilities, and she contended that having to rely on someone else to help you with something you previously were able to do was something that would destroy your morale. Your strength. Your character.

I have heard about people in wheelchairs not liking it when they are offered help. I mean, we can do things. Some find it offensive that others think we are unable to do simple things like get into a car or open doors on our own.

I can see why other people with disabilities are upset about this, but I don’t really agree with it.

I actually really appreciate it when people ask me if I need help with something. If someone who doesn't know me walks by without offering help while I am putting my chair into my car, I am kind of surprised. I almost always kindly smile and kindly decline help anyways, but I do appreciate offers. It continues to show me how there are so many kind-hearted people in this world. I made previous posts about these sort of actions here and here.

I was telling a friend the other day how seeing a guy in a wheelchair brings out the hometown hero in people. Even the roughest guys who look like they would attack you if you looked at them the wrong way turn into Southern gentleman as they open doors and ask me how I am doing.

Do I get offended when people offer to do things for me? Am I ashamed to ask people for help?

In short: no.

Admittedly, it was hard for me to ask people for things at first. Even now, I do not really ask people for everyday things. I mean, I get by pretty well living on my own.

But sometimes I do not hesitate to ask strangers or friends for help. In fact, I actually enjoy it. Let me explain myself before you think I crave power and like watching other people do things for me.

I’m sure most people have felt pleasure and an increase in their own self worth when they go out of their way to help others. Even people who don’t normally like doing thing for others feel a sense of accomplishment as they subconsciously tell themselves that they used their “precious time” to help someone “inferior” or “unworthy” of their time.

So I let people help me. If I am about to do something and someone offers to help me, I usually smile and decline, but I sometimes smile and show my utmost appreciation. I want people to walk away feeling like they did something positive that day.

Many times it seems like we decline help or refuse to ask for help because our own ego gets in the way. “No, I got it. I can do this on my own.” How many times have we said that? I know I say it all the time. But perhaps we need to spread some love and some good feelings around and let people help us. We shouldn't take advantage of anyone, but we need to let people know that they can help people; that they have something—some talent, strength, piece of knowledge, or connection—that we do not have.

Let others know that they are worth it, that they can do some things better, faster or more efficiently than us, and that sometimes we need them.

They need that, too.

[This just touched the tip of what I have really been thinking about lately. A second installment will come soon.]