The Crab Chronicles

My Wonderful Son

When I adopted my son in 2007, almost exactly 17 years ago, many people told me he was a lucky little boy. They were wrong. I was the lucky one, and still am. We have had a lot of ups and downs over the years. His wild teenage years, the party years, lasted well into his 20's, but those are over. He is healthy and happy now. I wouldn't trade him for all the tea in China (quoting my mama).

Some people told me around 2006-07 that I was crazy to adopt a ten year old boy missing his right hand. I already had an adopted daughter, they said, and I should just stop there. They were wrong. 

Michael Thompson is brilliant, hilariously funny, and a true original. He draws people to him because of the incredible light from his beautiful heart.

He will be 28 years old this summer. He is still figuring out his life. He may or may not return to college. He may or may not stick with the cooking. He will figure it out, in his own time.

In case you were wondering, no, his missing hand isn't really a handicap. It barely slows him down. He does more with one hand [climbs mountains, is a professional cook, lifts weights, plays baseball] than many people do with two hands. He earned his lifeguard certification years ago. He has worked as a chef in a high-end restaurant on a busy Saturday night and given stellar service even after ten hours on his feet. He helped me take care of his grandmother for years, without complaint, and their relationship was a mutual adoration that was truly beautiful.

I couldn't love him more or be prouder if he had come from my body. The fact he didn't makes no difference to me whatsoever. When people ask me what I am most proud of in my life I don't say being a paralegal, or being a caretaker for my mother, or writing and publishing a dozen books. I say one word: Michael. (I take no credit for his beautiful heart, just for having the good sense to adopt him.)

below, the first photo of him I ever saw, made when he was 8, in the orphanage and below right, me visiting him in the orphanage in 2007

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#adoptionhandicappedchild, #adoptolderchildren, #limbdifferencekids, #chooseadoption, #adoptionisthebestchoice

To Sleep Beneath the Sky

Today is not a typical day for us. My son went camping today. He is 26. He is a fully grown man, not a child. Yet, I was reminded of the first time he ever went camping, and all the feelings I had that day.

A little background. I adopted Michael when he was ten years old, from Kazakhstan. I already had adopted a little girl from Russia, and she needed a sibling, so I searched and searched on adoption agency websites until I found this little guy:

I wanted a special needs child. Michael is an amputee. His right hand was amputated when he was 5 years old, due to frostbite. His early life was filled with abuse, neglect, and violence. He was sent to the orphanage at age 8. The ladies there got to know what a smart, funny, kind little guy he was [and still is] and decided to help him find an American family. They knew in Kazakhstan he would have little chance at a normal life because no employer would hire him. So they reached out to an adoption agency and he was listed as adoptable and I saw the photo at left and knew he was my son.

When I went to Kazakhstan to meet him I had a unique advantage. A nonprofit, the Antares Foundation, worked in the area and I got to know two of the ladies who head up that organization and they got photos and information to me before I traveled.

Once I got to Kazakhstan and met him, I knew my instincts were right, and this little guy was my son. He is very smart. He is very loving. He was a leader among the kids. He had friends there. The caretakers truly cared about him. When I got him home in May of 2007 he cried several times, missing his friends. I couldn't do anything to comfort him, but he adjusted quickly. It helped that his older sister still spoke Russian and was able to translate for him.

I naively assumed there would be many things he couldn't do because he is an amputee. I was wrong. Over and over, he proved to me that having one hand was only an inconvenience, not a disability. He played soccer, tennis, and baseball. He loved games of all kinds, and sports. He was making jokes in English before he had been here six months.

In 2008, I was able to get him a prosthetic and we got to know the wonderful people in the Limb Difference Clinic at Children's Hospital. His physical therapist told him about the wonderful Adventure Amputee Camp that happens every summer. I registered Michael for camp and he was pleased about it. Kids with limb differences of all kinds get to have the same camp experience as non-disabled kids, and it's a wonderful place staffed by physical therapists, occupational therapists, and prosthetists -- in other words, adults not freaked out by being around a child missing a limb. The kids get to do all kinds of things, from hiking, water skiing, whitewater rafting, horseback riding, etc. I was sure Michael would have a blast.

The day came for him to go to camp. I woke him up and got his bag packed and we drove over to the hospital parking lot. There was a really nice bus, a top-of-the-line luxurious bus, not some crappy old school bus. We got out of the car and he saw Miss Colleen, his beloved Occupational Therapist. He saw the other kids. He decided he was NOT going to camp and I wasn't going to make him! He was showing me that he had bonded with me and the separation anxiety was getting the better of him. Now, that was very atypical behavior. We had very few discipline issues with him. He was a happy little guy, most of the time. I realized though that this wasn't about anything but separation anxiety. I sternly told him that he WAS going to camp. He WAS going to get on the bus. Period. No arguing. I was bigger and stronger and he knew I wasn't kidding.

Of course, he stomped on the bus, madder than dammit, and I got in the car and cried, wondering if I had made a huge mistake. I actually called Colleen later and she said "Dee he is FINE. He's made new friends. He's having a great time! Don't worry!" [below, Michael with Colleen and Brian, at Children's]

That did my heart good!

Five days after putting him on the bus to camp I was back in the hospital parking lot, anxiously watching for the bus, and when it got there I wondered if he would still be mad at me.

Nope.

Michael was the first one off the bus. Huge smile on his face. He was waving around a tennis racquet he had won in the camp tennis tournament. He had never shown any interest in tennis before but it became a game he loved to play and he was quite good at it, even playing on winning ALTA teams in his teenage years.

He gave me a big hug and was bubbling over with excitement about his time in camp. His biggest joy was in being around other limb difference kids, and feeling like a regular kid, for once in his life. He went back every summer for several years, and always had fun.

His teenage years and the early 20's were very difficult for us both, to be honest. He had no interest in school and got into some trouble, due to substance abuse issues. He is now fully sober and working hard to live a healthy, authentic life. Most importantly, he is able to face adult challenges with courage and grace.

This weekend the Catalyst Sports group is in Alabama, for an outdoor climbing/camping weekend. It's a terrific group that helps disabled kids and adults participate in sports they normally wouldn't be able to do like climbing and kayaking. Michael loves climbing and he has climbed Stone Mountain countless times, but this will be his first real climbing adventure involving climbing as a sport. He has been going indoor climbing weekly for months, and really enjoys the challenge. 

As I watched him put his gear in his backpack, and we joked about his "road trip," I was reminded of that scared little 11 year old guy who didn't want to get on the bus. Now he is a fit, healthy, confident 26 year old man who is a delight. He is not disabled. He works as a cook in an upscale local restaurant. I wrote about him recently and you can read that and see video of him here.

left, me and Michael in Kazakhstan in 2007

 

right, Michael today

A Handicap Is a State of Mind

When I was ready to adopt a second child I knew I wanted a boy and I wanted a child with some sort of special need, who would nonetheless be capable and independent one day. I had so many people tell me I would not be able to stand the stress of parenting a "handicapped" child as a single mom. They were genuinely caring and concerned. I spotted this little guy on a website and knew instantly he was my son:

I got in touch with a nonprofit that made trips to Kazakhstan and could give me some inside information about Igor and his condition, and they reported he was a friendly, outgoing little guy who did well in school and was liked by the teachers and kids -- and he could dress himself, bathe, etc. They were right. He is completely autonomous. I've never had to do ANY caretaking for Michael.

Everyone who thought he would be a burden to me was utterly and completely WRONG. He is an enormous blessing.

Never assume that someone who is missing a limb is handicapped. Never assume that someone in a wheelchair isn't capable. Never assume a brain injury automatically makes someone helpless. I have a friend who is a veteran who suffered a TBI [traumatic brain injury] and he now runs a nonprofit and is a leader in his field and makes a great living [but doesn't take any $ from the nonprofit]. He is one of the most brilliant, energetic, articulate people I've every known.

I've known people who had a wonky ankle and thought of themselves as handicapped.

Being "handicapped" has nothing to do with physical issues and everything to do with ATTITUDE. My son Michael has the attitude that he can do anything he wants to do, and he is right!

Yesterday he made lasagna and brownies to take as a thank-you gift to some friends who recently did him a favor. He delivered the lasagna and homemade brownies that he made with great good humor, and his friends knew they were getting delicious food and his smiling face delivering it. Below, Mike making the lasagna.

At right, a funny shirt a co-worker gave him.

We laugh all the time about him telling people a lion bit off his hand, or he lost it in some climbing accident or some other silliness.

We think laughter is healing.

When Mike was wearing a prosthetic and learning to ride a bike, years ago, he fell off the bike but his prosthetic stayed put and it looked like his hand was severed.. a lady drove by in her car and nearly wrecked it when she saw the hand on the handlebars and no boy attached. LOL

Laughter heals.

My mother used to always say "If you don't laugh, you'll cry," and she was right. We laugh a lot.

Below, a drawing Michael did years ago. He is a very talented artist.

 

Never Give Up

Many years ago, after I adopted my daughter from Russia in 2004, I knew I wanted to adopt another Russian-speaking child. She needed a sibling. I wanted to give a child with some sort of special need a home. I pored over photos on websites of adoption agencies looking for a child. I wanted to adopt them all, and it made choosing so difficult. Finally, I just asked God to send me a sign. The next photo I saw was a scowling little boy who happened to have been born the same month my father died. I took that as a sign.

In 2007, my son finally came home, to a granny, sister, and mama who were absolutely thrilled to see him.

He is now 26 years old, and after some challenges, he is in a really good place in his life.

He is working as a cook in a very nice restaurant here in Atlanta, Kindred. He loves his job and the people there. It's a very busy place but he works hard and they have a lot of happy customers.

I interviewed Michael the other day and you can see that here: The Cook W ith the Mighty Left Arm. Michael was a bit reluctant to do the interview but I pointed out that a lot of people don't realize that having one hand is no big deal.

The article includes a video and you can see Michael preparing shrimp and grits, a popular dish at the restaurant.

Never let a disability define you.

 

#amputeeawareness, #amputeeemployment, #disabilityawareness,

Missing a Hand is NOT a Disability

I have a young friend in England who is raising his son who has one hand, like my son Michael. We were Facebook chatting this morning and he told me something that makes me FURIOUS. He told me his 10 year old son is not allowed to go on school field trips because the school says he is "too high risk."

Ridiculous. If I had been told that my son couldn't go on a field trip simply because of his hand I would have been at that school that day, raising hell. 

However, other places in the world are not as tolerant as Americans are about children who are differently abled, I'm sad to say. Bullying happens. Prejudice happens. Makes me furious.

Honey, if you have never been around a person missing an arm or a hand, let me school you. 

A missing limb is NOT A HANDICAP. It's just not. Michael may do things a bit differently than a person with two hands, but he CAN DO ANYTHING. 

I thought when I adopted Michael and brought him home he would never be able to play with a Gameboy or a Wii or an X-box or anything like that. Wrong. He has no trouble and is, in fact, a terrific gamer.

I didn't think he could put together Lego things. Wrong again. I got him Lego models and he typically put them together in less than 15 minutes. In fact, Legos bored him pretty quickly because they were so easy for him.

Here is a list of things I never thought Michael could do with no help [and no prosthetic] and he proved me wrong, right quick:

• tie his shoes
• clip his fingernails
• chop an onion [he does this as fast as I do]
• cut his meat at the dinner table 
• ride a bicycle
• play the piano [he just does this for fun]
• cook

I didn't think he would be able to serve a tennis ball like everyone else. He mastered that skill in an hour. I didn't think he would be able to catch and throw a baseball, but he simply caught the ball, stuck the glove under his arm, and threw the ball -- and he learned to do that very quickly. He was one of the best hitters on his baseball team for the three years he played. 

We really didn't think he would be able to get his lifeguard certification or Red Cross certification so he could be a lifeguard. Part of the test involved picking up a large brick off the pool bottom and swimming it up to the surface and over to the side of the pool. Michael practiced it and did it, first try. That was in 2014. He had only learned to swim in 2007 when he came home.

I didn't think he would be able to drive a moped but he does that quite easily, with no modifications. He drives a car easily too.

Below are some photos of Michael doing things people doubted he could do, and doing them WELL. 

ADDENDUM: Perhaps I should explain something to those not knowing the entire story about Michael. When he was put in the orphanage at age 8, the good ladies who ran things realized quickly they had a very smart, very sweet little boy, who needed to get out of Kazakhstan. They campaigned for him to get listed on a website for special needs kids, hoping he would get adopted by an American. That's where I saw his photo. In Kazakhstan, he would be considered completely unemployable. It's very unlikely that any employer would hire him. He would get a very small payment from the government, like welfare, and written off. He likely would have become a petty criminal and spent a lot of time in jail. That was his likely fate, had he not been adopted. 

When I went to visit him in the orphanage, the ladies all told me "He is a good boy. He can dress himself, feed himself, write." They had him embroidering things, as a sort of occupational therapy. Those ladies were angels because they saw his potential, and worked hard to get him adopted. I still have those lovely pieces of embroidery, BTW, although Michael has not done any of that since he has been here. He is teaching himself how to do tattoos and is quite skilled already, and an excellent artist. 

What I have heard many times over the years, by friends, is that once you get to know Michael, the hand is not an issue. It's never thought about again, because he never asks for any special treatment. When he played tennis matches his opponents were always amazed at his talent.  

below, whitewater rafting and skiing, when he was at Amputee Adventure Camp a few years ago

Michael waiting to bat for his baseball team

With two of his tennis buddies, waiting to play a match

Riding a bike around Hilton Head with his sister, 2010

Michael recently making himself some homemade cookies -- he likes to cook and can make terrific guacamole, omelets, crepes, cookies, etc. 

 

So if you think a person with only one hand cannot do something, give them a chance to prove you wrong. I guarantee you they will do it.

 

 

Catching Up

Busy week last week and I haven't done a personal blog in a while, so here's a catch up blog.

We had thunderstorms and pouring rain all day. Lola got a quick walk when it let up a bit around 3:30 but it took me 10 minutes to dry her off when Michael brought her in. Of course, being rubbed with a big fluffy towel is not something she dislikes...

I gave her a baby carrot this afternoon to see what she would do. She now loves baby carrots. I doubt she loves them as much as Ritz crackers but I am trying to snack more healthy... so she can snack healthy too!

I thought I was going to spend most of the afternoon grocery shopping and then reading a new book. I forgot that I have a child in school. A child who hates to write. SO... I spent most of the day helping Michael with a project for school. It's either due this Tuesday or Tuesday December 1st. He doesn't know which day.

One nice thing about technology - He can email the project to his teacher. Yay.

BOOK REVIEWS

I finished the book An Invisible Thread yesterday. LOVE that book. Very well-written. True story. This is a synopsis:

She was a successful ad sales rep in Manhattan. He was a homeless, eleven-year-old panhandler on the street. He asked for spare change; she kept walking. But then something stopped her in her tracks, and she went back. And she continued to go back, again and again. They met up nearly every week for years and built an unexpected, life-changing friendship that has today spanned almost three decades.

Whatever made me notice him on that street corner so many years ago is clearly something that cannot be extinguished, no matter how relentless the forces aligned against it. Some may call it spirit. Some may call it heart. It drew me to him, as if we were bound by some invisible, unbreakable thread. And whatever it is, it binds us still.

I felt that thread so strongly when I met each of my kids. It was like getting hit by lightning. THIS IS MY CHILD, my innter voice said the moment I saw my daughter, and the moment I saw my son's photo.

It's impossible to describe that feeling any other way except recognition. Your heart knows your own child, just like your heart knows when you meet someone you are going to fall in love with. It's an incredible thing. I spent most of the day yesterday reading the book.

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I read a book recently called The Cuckoo's Calling, by Robert Galbraith - but not really. It's by JK Rowling. I'm not a big reader of mysteries but wow, it was powerful and absorbing. I am now reading the second book in the series, The Silkworm.

The lead detective in these books is Cormoran Strike, an ex-military private eye with a lower limb difference. In other words, he's missing the lower part of one of his legs and wears a prosthetic. I've never read a book where there was a limb difference main character. It's not made into a big deal, but she does mention it occasionally. As in, Cormoran has to walk a long way across London because he can't find a cab or take the tube and he's in great pain when he gets to his office. True stuff.

Unfortunately, there are plenty of vets with limb differences in England and here, now, after being at war in Afghanistan and Iraq for so many years.

The good thing about having a lower leg missing is that it's easy to disguise in pants. The bad thing is that it makes walking and running challenging. Anyone looking at my son instantly sees his limb difference, but he can walk and run easily.

That just bolsters my belief that nothing is a total curse or a total blessing. Everything is a mixed bag.

below, Michael's 11th birthday... just because it's so cute

Helping Teens Cope

I am so proud of Michael's friend Hayden for making a lovely, informative, and very important video aimed at helping teenagers develop coping skills. Her project is called I Am Unsinkable.

All teens have issues to deal with. Not all cope well. Hayden wanted to research ways real teens deal with really tough problems in their lives.

Hayden is a remarkable girl. She is smart, compassionate, resourceful, and a talented young lady.

Hayden asked Michael to participate in this video. He didn't go into all of his sad history, but he did mention losing his hand and going into the orphanage and coming to America. He doesn't usually like talking about the tragic things in his past, but he likes Hayden and wanted to help.

Also, at the very beginning of the video, my friend Kristy speaks about an auto accident that had a huge impact on her as a teen.

So here's the video. Please watch it if you have time. [Michael is at about the 10 minute mark, BTW]

FYI, a young man named Matthew shared his coping mechanisms and was obviously close to tears. Of course I started crying. When I see someone in tears or close to tears I immediately start crying. His testimony is powerful, though.

This is a REALLY powerful video. I am SO proud to know Hayden and her wonderful family.

 

also, just FYI, Hayden in the girlfriend of Bart [see prior post, below]

Heavy Winds and Heavy Lifting

The past two days have just been beyond strange. Bad storms were predicted and there were no bad storms. Monday night and last night we had a bunch of rain and wind, but nothing to get excited about for our little family.

We've had some drama that had nothing to do with weather, though.

Certainly no tornadoes here, thanks be to God.

Michael got a new prosthetic hand this morning, but he doesn't like it. We may be seeing the end of him wearing a prosthesis. Most upper limb amputees choose to forego prosthetics because they can get along better without them. It's just a matter of not being self-conscious.

Sometimes I think my son is very mature, and sometimes he says stuff that makes me want to pull my hair out. He stays mad at the gym teacher because she insists the kids dress out. He considers golf shorts acceptable, since they are for a sport. She disagrees. I told him today, with great exasperation, "It's her class and her world. YOU have to conform." He was irritated.

Was I that opinionated and argumentative at 17?! Probably. I never would've bucked a teacher's edict like that, though. I've had a couple of calls with the teacher, apologizing and telling her I am not able to get him to conform. He'd rather take a zero than just take a pair of gym shorts and put them on!

I asked him to clean out a front flowerbed of English ivy this afternoon. The ivy is taking over. He did a sorry job and then took his pay from Mother and went to the mall while I was working. I called him and told him I want that ivy cleanout done asap.

I've had evening will signings for the past three days, so food around here has been not awesome. Leftovers and sandwiches. That's no excuse to be a butthead.

Tonight I made homemade spaghetti.

I cannot believe tomorrow is MAY. Wow.

Michael starts lifeguarding this weekend. That will be an interesting challenge for him. We are still working out his work schedule, and we had an interesting discussion today about the importance of being organized and using a paper calendar as well as an electronic one. I believe in backups.

I used to think that by the time my younger child was 17 I would be mostly done with the heavy lifting of parenthood.

Ha! Was I delusional or what!?

Reporting on Michael

I sent off Michael's last post placement report today, to the adoption folks in Kazakhstan. I usually don't include a letter but since this is the last one, I decided to include a letter and a couple of extra photos.

There is a perception in Asian countries that handicapped people are to be shunned, or kept away from public view, that they are "bad luck." That's why so many handicapped kids wind up in orphanages. Schools and workplaces don't want handicapped workers. They are to be given a begging bowl and a government subsistence check. That's why it was so important to the ladies in Mike's orphanage to get him out of the country, and into an American home. He is so bright, and such a good kid.

[BTW, I hope and pray the attitudes towards handicapped people in Asian countries will change, and are changing...]

With that cultural bias in mind, and the bias towards adopted kids, it was important to me to let the adoption folks know that like so many other limb different people, my son is talented and active and awesome.

Dear Kazakhstan Adoption Authorities:

Please find enclosed the final post placement report of my son Michael Robert Thompson. He will be 18 in a few months. As you can see from the report, Michael is doing very well.  He is a good boy and makes good grades in school.  He has many friends. He loves sports. He loves games and music.

He helps me with small jobs at home. He babysits other kids, boys adopted from Russia.

Michael has his own car, and he paid for it by working last summer. He will be a lifeguard this summer at the pool in our neighborhood after he passes his lifeguard certification tests.

In a couple of years Michael will go to college. He will probably become a teacher. His hand doesn’t matter. In America, employers hire based on a person’s abilities, and handicapped people are hired every day.

I am very proud of my son and what a fine young man he is today.

There are many orphans in Kazkhstan like Michael. They may have a missing hand, or another kind of disability. They may be blind or deaf. There are Americans who would still adopt them.  Americans will adopt older kids, too.

In America, being adopted is not hidden. It’s not a secret, or shameful. Adopted children are like all children. They want a decent home, and parents to love them.

Please make it easier for children like Michael to be adopted.

Dee Thompson

above and below, my little guy

above - Mike water skis, snow skis, goes to dances, drives his own car - what a long way he has come, and what a bright future he has ahead!

 

Thursday

We started going to Children's Hospital of Atlanta, to the orthotics and prosthetics clinic, when Michael had been here about a year. Brian [the prosthetist] and Colleen [the physical therapist] have since become friends. They are wonderful to Michael.

Yesterday, we went back for a fitting of a new hand:

I like to take photos of Michael in that waiting room because you can see how much he has changed and how little the room has changed since 2008. See the corner of the train set?

It was an impossibly beautiful day yesterday, although colder than it has been lately.

When we got home, Lola was needing a walk. She hates wearing the Gentle Leader harness, but if she doesn't wear it she pulls too much. Mike was comforting her. I think it's such a sweet photo:

Not much else to report. I had my second rehearsal for The Atlanta Women's Chorus. Fun to sing in a group again.

Happy Friday!