<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207</id><updated>2012-01-12T21:07:42.370-08:00</updated><category term='Access issues'/><category term='quotes'/><category term='miscellaneous'/><category term='people that impact upon me'/><category term='Lyrics that inspire me'/><category term='my mixed up head'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='Writting'/><title type='text'>Wheelyfast's Words</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-676290176775672034</id><published>2007-07-21T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T19:28:34.752-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='miscellaneous'/><title type='text'>Random Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Jacqui tagged me to reveal 8 random facts about me and since I don't know 8 people  who read my blog to tag back, I thought I'd post on my carepage and tag carepage/caringbridge people.  (I have posted it here so people who read this page can read it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I love coke (the drink not the drug).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I am left handed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I am almost a vegetarian. I eat chicken &amp; bacon and someimes mince meat, but no other meat&lt;br /&gt;4. I've never been &amp;amp;, probably never will be,kissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I love the TV show Full House&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I have many nicknames- some being Kar, Kaz, wheelyfast, miss pig &amp;amp; mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I can walk in all of my dreams- I'm never in a chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I don’t wear make up, mainly because I don’t think I own anything that isn’t passed it’s used by date and I can't put it on by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to tag 8 people:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shelley&lt;br /&gt;Janet&lt;br /&gt;Pam&lt;br /&gt;Kira&lt;br /&gt;Kathleen&lt;br /&gt;Alexis&lt;br /&gt;Olivia (if you don't have a page/blog email me your response)&lt;br /&gt;Robin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-676290176775672034?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/676290176775672034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=676290176775672034' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/676290176775672034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/676290176775672034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/07/random-facts.html' title='Random Facts'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-4835731338890548157</id><published>2007-07-15T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T20:59:33.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Answering questions</title><content type='html'>The type of CP I have seems to vary depending on which doctor I talk to, but most seem to agree with Spastic Diplegia because both my legs and right arm are affected.  I do have a lot of trouble with my hips (especially the left one) and I had surgery on them when I was 4. I do not remember exactly what they did (tendon release?) and I have no one I can ask, sorry. I am on baclofen which seems to help with the hip pain, as does walking and stretching. I think that covers everything everyone asked and if you have any more questions please ask and I'll try to be faster at answering next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-4835731338890548157?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/4835731338890548157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=4835731338890548157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/4835731338890548157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/4835731338890548157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/07/answering-questions.html' title='Answering questions'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-701049280744842141</id><published>2007-07-02T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-02T00:06:16.875-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><title type='text'>How does CP make me feel?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is a post I have been planning to write for a long time. I had been asked awhile ago to try and explain how having Cerebral Palsy feels and how I feel &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;after spasms etc. it has taken me a long time to write this post because I was not exactly sure how to describe the feeling.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Before I go any further, let me stress that this post is about my experiences and my feelings and it doesn’t mean that everybody with Cerebral Palsy feels the same way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My muscles always have tension and are never completely relaxed but when they spasm it is as if they are being pulled even tighter but then they are released very quickly. It is kind of like releasing one of those wind up toy cars that little kids have.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is very painful but most of the time I am able to distract myself from the pain and it usually only lasts a few minutes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After spasms the body part that has been spasming will ache for awhile depending upon how much that body part has been spasming. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Fortunately it doesn’t hurt anywhere near as bad as the actual spasming. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some days along with the spasms I shake a lot (especially in the hands) also. This makes even the simplest task (like drinking/eating without making a mess) and leaves me even tireder than normal. On the days when the shaking is particularly bad I find it really hard to concentrate and I often find I am nauseous as well. I have no idea if it’s all related to the shaking but it seems to happen every time I have a bad day with the shakiness so I thought I would mention it anyway. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That pretty much covers how the Cerebral Palsy makes me feel physically. The upshot of it all is I am in some degree of pain every day (I have spasm everyday) but I&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;can usually control it with distraction and don’t use pain medication unless it is a particularly bad day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today has been a good and productive day. I am almost organised for the semester and have begun some work already.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have also been trying to sort out carers to take me to the v8 supercars in September but haven’t had any luck so far which is disappointing. I am in the process of writing a post answering some of the questions that you may have always wanted to ask a wheelchair user but have never had the chance to do so. If you have any questions along those lines please leave them in the guestbook and don’t be afraid of offending me or anything because I see this kind of thing as a way of educating people and helping them understand what my life is like.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-701049280744842141?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/701049280744842141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=701049280744842141' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/701049280744842141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/701049280744842141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/07/how-does-cp-make-me-feel.html' title='How does CP make me feel?'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-5826729777448792168</id><published>2007-06-23T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-23T17:48:16.365-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching you all up again</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Its been awhile again. I wanted to write and catch you up on the goings on in my world. I have been for several AFO appointments but I still don’t have them. The people who make the AFOS tried a different design and it just didn’t work and was not practical because I can’t wear shoes with them. After much playing around with foot angles I was able to stand straight in them though. The plan for now is for me to wear these while at physical therapy and get another one for my right foot to wear all the time. Logic tells me that for balance I will need them on both feet but I don’t know anything and am apparently not worth listening to.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have also had an MRI and in a few weeks will have my first visit with a neurologist.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The MRI went well and I was able to do it without sedation despite many people telling me I wouldn’t be able to because of the Cerebral Palsy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not really much else going on heath/cp wise. Same old spasms and crappiness feeling but I’ll do what I do best pick up the fragmented pieces of my life and move on. More later…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-5826729777448792168?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/5826729777448792168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=5826729777448792168' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5826729777448792168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5826729777448792168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/06/catching-you-all-up-again.html' title='Catching you all up again'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-335665623395694484</id><published>2007-06-03T21:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T21:12:35.351-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writting'/><title type='text'>I'm me</title><content type='html'>&lt;h1&gt;I’m me&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am a butterfly,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am a bee,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m a dragon,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m me&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m twisted,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m tortured,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m trapped yet I’m strong,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m a human being,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;With thoughts and feelings too,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I cry &amp;amp; laugh just like you,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Because I am me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-335665623395694484?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/335665623395694484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=335665623395694484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/335665623395694484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/335665623395694484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-me.html' title='I&apos;m me'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-5206841438042380032</id><published>2007-06-03T03:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T03:30:23.257-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Access issues'/><title type='text'>Thirsty Merc concert</title><content type='html'>Last night I went to see Thirsty Merc (one of my favourite Aussie bands) in concert. The crowd were like crowds at most places and inconsiderate of the fact that I couldn't see a thing when they stand in front of me. Some even lent on me and my chair and one girl tried to sit on my lap. needless to say I wasn't going to enjoy the show much when all this was going on. To make a long story short the manager of the venue arranged for me to watch the show up on the stage so I had the best view in the whole place! It added extra excitement to the night and was a real victory in terms of disability access.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-5206841438042380032?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/5206841438042380032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=5206841438042380032' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5206841438042380032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5206841438042380032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/06/thirsty-merc-concert.html' title='Thirsty Merc concert'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-5018975025210973726</id><published>2007-06-01T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T16:31:21.271-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='people that impact upon me'/><title type='text'>People that impact on my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There are many people who have impacted upon my life and shaped the person who I am today. There are the usual suspects like parents, grandparents, brother, aunties, uncles, friends and teachers. But for me there are also the doctors and nurses and therapists&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;without some of whom I wouldn’t be alive today and without the rest I wouldn’t be as capable as I am today. So it was hard for me to decide who to write this exercise on. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eventually I decided to write about my Nana Dot (great grandmother) because she is the first person I remember who thought I was special because I’m Karen, not because I was the little girl with CP. She accepted me for who I was and who I wanted to be and didn’t try to “improve” me with therapies etc.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So dear readers, who impacted on your life?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-5018975025210973726?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/5018975025210973726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=5018975025210973726' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5018975025210973726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5018975025210973726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/06/people-that-impact-on-my-life.html' title='People that impact on my life'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-1155216257079116865</id><published>2007-05-31T00:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T00:59:41.471-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quotes'/><title type='text'>Quotes that inspire me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/r/ralphwaldo390833.html"&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="body"&gt;Nobody can bring you peace but yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="bodybold"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/r/ralphwaldo140608.html"&gt;Ralph Waldo Emerson&lt;/a&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; color: black;"&gt;Don't be afraid to go after what you want to do, and what you want to be.&lt;br /&gt;But don't be afraid to be willing to pay the price."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; color: rgb(128, 0, 64);"&gt;                              &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; color: rgb(128, 0, 64);"&gt; Lane Frost&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;These quotes have me thinking today. What is the price of the inner peace I crave? Will I ever find it? On day but until then I must remember that &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 255);"&gt;Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile (from an email).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-1155216257079116865?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/1155216257079116865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=1155216257079116865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/1155216257079116865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/1155216257079116865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/05/quotes-that-inspire-me.html' title='Quotes that inspire me'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-5186155579070635442</id><published>2007-05-30T02:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T02:33:50.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An article I'm working on</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;The bus stops and the girl climbs on board.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The girl doesn’t mind having to stand near the open window.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She feels as if she might melt.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Children cry as their ice-creams form a sticky puddle on their laps.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;An old man reads the newspaper.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The women on the bus gossip about Bill and Monica.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As time passes the other passengers loose interest in their conversations and begin to look around them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They all stare at the girl.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some smile.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some sneer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Others just continue to stare.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;The journey continues.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passengers get off the bus.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Passengers get on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It doesn’t matter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They all stare.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some even whisper to their friends.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Still the girl stands silently.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At times the comments get so loud and so rude that the girl wishes she could go and punch the people in the mouth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But she knows she can’t.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She must be silent.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Invisible.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It makes her blood boil faster than lava, but she is helpless.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;At the next stop the people that climb on the bus are friendly and start a conversation with the girl.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;‘Hot today isn’t it?’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;‘Yeah’ says the girl.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;It has been too long for this.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are too many forgotten years.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The girl just smiles at the people until the bus begins to slow.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As the girl gets off the bus she overhears a conversation between two children.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;‘That lady standing by the window looked funny’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;‘I’m glad we ignored her, she scared me.’&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;That’s the story of my life thinks the girl as she walks away in her walking frame.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;The girl in the story has Cerebral Palsy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cerebral Palsy is a disorder of muscle control which results from some damage to part of the brain.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It can affect people in many different ways, which can be both mental and physical or either mental or physical.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For example, in my case my legs and my right arm are affected by the Cerebral Palsy but I am lucky and have not been affected mentally by the Cerebral Palsy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Others are not so lucky.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They may be so severely affected by the Cerebral Palsy that they are unable to go to school or care for themselves in any way.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;It doesn’t really matter how a person with Cerebral Palsy is affected by the disorder most people are treated by society in much the same way.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(Having said this, however I do not mean that all people treat people with Cerebral Palsy this way.)&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some people seem to think that a person with any kind of disability has a mental disability.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is a common assumption with Cerebral Palsy because more than half of the world’s Cerebral Palsy sufferers are affected mentally by the disorder.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;However there are many organisations (such as Interchange and Yorralla) in Australia that can help sufferers of Cerebral palsy (or any other disability) to gain independence.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These organisations can help people with many skills including personal care, shopping, and meal preparation and can also provide personal assistants who can help a disabled person to gain an education.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The services these organisations provide are vital to the life of a disabled person because they enable the disabled person to have a&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“normal” life and attend school or work and also be involved in the community.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To be considered “normal” by today’s society means to be accepted by today’s society.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Acceptance is what we all crave and these organisation’s help a disabled person to gain some acceptance but there is a long way to go before total acceptance of a disabled person is achieved.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is illustrated by the reaction of the passengers on the bus when they realised the girl standing near the window was disabled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not many of the passengers on the bus would talk to the girl who was standing by the window in her walking frame.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only people who would talk to the girl came on the bus towards the end of the journey and then had difficulty making conversation with the girl.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If the girl was not disabled the passengers on the bus may not have had any trouble making conversation with the girl.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The girl also had trouble making conversation with the other passengers on the bus.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The fact that the narrator of the story suggests that “it has been too long for this.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are too many forgotten years.” Suggests that like many other disabled people the girl is so used to being treated badly that she does not know how to react when people are nice to her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These kinds of problems can make disabled people feel even more alienated from the rest of the world.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The best way to overcome this problem is to educate the ‘normal’ people of the world in order to try and&lt;b style=""&gt; &lt;/b&gt;make them understand that disabled people are just people who may take a little longer than a ‘normal’ person to achieve some of their goals.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If we can do this then maybe the ‘normal’ people will be more accepting of the disabled and then we can all live in harmony.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;I would like to remind all the ‘normal’ people out there that it’s not what’s on the outside that counts but what’s on the inside.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So as a final reminder from my pearls of wisdom as some great literary person said ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -38.3pt; line-height: 150%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-5186155579070635442?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/5186155579070635442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=5186155579070635442' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5186155579070635442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5186155579070635442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/05/article-im-working-on.html' title='An article I&apos;m working on'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-3971207800739542033</id><published>2007-05-28T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T22:08:04.342-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching you all up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Thanks for the supportive messages yesterday. I have been reading a lot of blogs of people with CP lately. Mostly, they are blogs of kid with CP that have been written by their parents. But I find that it is interesting to read a parents perspective of some of the stuff I am going though or have been through.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Totally different perspectives but useful all the same. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A lot has been going on with me since I last posted on here (aside from yesterday I mean) and not all of it has been good. As you all probably have guessed by yesterdays post my emotional state has been a bit questionable lately.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have days like yesterday and then I have days where I seem okay. I think it is all connected to my physical state which is ever changing. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I’m still a medical mystery for the doctors and now they are trying to blame the swelling etc on the CP. The problem with this is what to do about it? I don’t see how it can be the CP because CP isn’t supposed to change but I’m not a doctor so my opinion doesn’t seem to matter.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On a positive note I have been walking in my brand new walking rails a little bit in the last few days. Now if only it would stop raining for long enough for me to do it today. I can’t do it when it is yucky outside because the rails have to live outside and don’t fit in our house. I need my own place just for all my equipment.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am getting AFOS to help hold my feet straight and 3 point splints to help straighten my knees next week. The AFOS are a lovely (NOT) camouflage print because it was the best of a really really bad lot I had to pick from. There were a ton of prints that would be fine if I were about 5 years old but…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway you are pretty much caught up with the main events in my life since I last wrote. I will write again tomorrow. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Love you all,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Karen&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-3971207800739542033?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/3971207800739542033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=3971207800739542033' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/3971207800739542033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/3971207800739542033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/05/catching-you-all-up.html' title='Catching you all up'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-2577905364485336013</id><published>2007-05-27T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T20:42:40.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feelings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;I haven't posted on this site for so long that nobody will probably read this, but I feel the need to post it somewhere. If you are reading this please leave a comment to let me know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are days where I feel like I am lost and alone. I let everybody down and nothing I do is right. Today is one of those days. I have nobody to talk to about the way I feel so I write about it on here sorry. I am nothing but a burden to my friends &amp; family &amp;amp; I’ve slowly been coming to the conclusion that I always will be in some way because there are things I’m never going to be able to do by myself. As much as it hurts me to write this I have slowly realised that there is very little in the way of paid employment that I can get around my hometown (which is where I want to live that I am able to do with my disabilities) and without paid employment I can’t get a loan to build a house and without a house built to suit my mobility needs there is no way I can ever move out of home. Having said that even with a house set up the way I need it I would still need a lot of attendant care and I can’t afford to pay for that anyway. I feel like my family and friends see me as a burden and I hate that. Sometimes I wish I could escape my world even just for a day, though I know its not possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-2577905364485336013?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/2577905364485336013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=2577905364485336013' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/2577905364485336013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/2577905364485336013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/05/feelings.html' title='Feelings'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-9095306411477362725</id><published>2007-04-10T03:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T03:18:06.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please help</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hi Guys,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; I need your help. Please visit and lend the amazing support you give me to &lt;a href="http://www.amarina.bravehost.com/"&gt;www.amarina.bravehost.com&lt;/a&gt; . Amarina is a little girl who lives near me who has a number of medical issues. I’m trying to help her family with fundraising and I came up with the idea of a book of “kid friendly “ recipes and activities. I need ideas for contents of the book. So please email your favourite “Kid friendly “ recipes and activities to &lt;a href="mailto:milkbottle05@yahoo.com.au"&gt;milkbottle05@yahoo.com.au&lt;/a&gt; Please put Amarina in the subject line. Please pass this onto all your friends. I need as many ideas as I can. Thanks and love from Karen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-9095306411477362725?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/9095306411477362725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=9095306411477362725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/9095306411477362725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/9095306411477362725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/04/please-help.html' title='Please help'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-6690706106323785282</id><published>2007-04-03T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T18:18:10.829-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Access issues'/><title type='text'>Banana Smooties</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I wanted a Banana smoothie but the smoothie store is not wheelchair accessible. So I had to send my cousin in to buy it for me. She had to make a few trips out questioning me about the size I wanted etc. The store owner  noticed and asked her what she was doing. she explained and the owner told me to stand at the door any time and toot my horn and she'll come and serve me. So now I can get smooties any time I want  yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-6690706106323785282?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/6690706106323785282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=6690706106323785282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/6690706106323785282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/6690706106323785282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/04/banana-smooties.html' title='Banana Smooties'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-5907387107665898658</id><published>2007-04-02T03:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T03:35:52.232-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lyrics that inspire me'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Because I'm uninspired (on disability) and lazy tonight I'm posting the lyrics to a song that inspires me somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Drive til the wheels fall off by Adam Brand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daddy threw me a set of keys and said&lt;br /&gt;        Look outside and my heart skipped a beat&lt;br /&gt;        When I saw what was sittin’ in our front drive&lt;br /&gt;        That old Ford was as old as me&lt;br /&gt;        It had, faded paint and some holes in the seats&lt;br /&gt;        It didn’t look like much but it was mine&lt;br /&gt;        And as I climbed inside        &lt;p class="bodyText"&gt;He told me, treat it like it’s your last one&lt;br /&gt;        And take your time coz it goes real fast son&lt;br /&gt;        And don’t you worry about breakin’ down or gettin’ lost&lt;br /&gt;        Coz breakin’ down’s just a hard luck lesson&lt;br /&gt;        And gettin’ lost helps you find direction&lt;br /&gt;        So hit the road and make the most of the gifts you’ve got&lt;br /&gt;        And drive it till the wheels fall off&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="bodyText"&gt;That old car’s seen a lotta things&lt;br /&gt;        My first steady job that paid for the ring&lt;br /&gt;        That I gave to my first love&lt;br /&gt;        Now it’s parked outside the church where I’m&lt;br /&gt;        ‘Bout to make a vow to her&lt;br /&gt;        My daddy pulled me aside and he said son&lt;br /&gt;        I know it’s your first and if you want this love to work &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="bodyText"&gt;You better treat it like it’s……&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="bodyText"&gt;Oh yeah breakin’ downs just a hard lesson&lt;br /&gt;        And getting lost helps you find direction&lt;br /&gt;        So hit the road and make the most of the gifts you’ve got&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="bodyText"&gt;Just drive it till the wheels&lt;br /&gt;        Just drive it till the wheels&lt;br /&gt;        Just drive it&lt;br /&gt;        Just drive it&lt;br /&gt;        Till the wheels fall off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p class="heading1"&gt;&lt;a name="13" id="13"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-5907387107665898658?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/5907387107665898658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=5907387107665898658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5907387107665898658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/5907387107665898658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/04/because-im-uninspired-on-disability-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-8318936545689069466</id><published>2007-03-31T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T23:05:58.902-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Writting'/><title type='text'>BE FREE</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Be free&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She falls into the darkness,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After taking a step,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Away from the light,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A step towards freedom.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;From the stares and whispers,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The torment and thoughts,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That no-one cares,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is no one there.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She is a twisted soul,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Changed in so many ways,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes she’s not sure,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She cares anymore.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;She falls into the darkness&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is a welcome relief cos’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here she is free&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just free to be.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Away from the stares&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tormenters, questonors and pitiers&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can live, breathe and be me,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Be free.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-8318936545689069466?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/8318936545689069466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=8318936545689069466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/8318936545689069466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/8318936545689069466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/be-free.html' title='BE FREE'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-3800474059270508506</id><published>2007-03-30T23:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T23:08:06.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Physiotherapy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had physiotherapy on Tuesday. I went though a period of time when I was a teenager when I refused to do physiotherapy. One of the surgeons who I saw at the Royal Children’s Hospital told me and my parents (when I was 12 and at a rebellious point in my life anyway) that no matter what I tried to do I would only be able to sit in a wheelchair for the rest of my life anyway. So I began to question why I was doing physiotherapy. At the next session I had I asked my physiotherapist what the point of each of the exercises I was supposed to do was. She refused to tell me (I wonder if she even knew? ) and I refused to do them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m a stubborn person so it took me a number of years to realise that the physiotherapy was going to benefit me and despite the opinion of the surgeon I wasn’t totally useless. So last year I began physiotherapy again but then in June I became a medical mystery.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was (and still am) suffering from the following symptoms: &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Entire body extremely swollen&lt;br /&gt;• Burning sensation throughout body at times&lt;br /&gt;• Lumps on back of legs &amp; wrist at times&lt;br /&gt;• Cough at times&lt;br /&gt;• Trouble breathing at times&lt;br /&gt;• Fatigue&lt;br /&gt;• Pain throughout entire body&lt;br /&gt;• Muscle weakness&lt;br /&gt;• Blue fingers &amp;amp; lips at times&lt;br /&gt;• Tingling in hands/feet at times&lt;br /&gt;• Numbness in legs and arms at times&lt;br /&gt;• Unexplainable bruising&lt;br /&gt;Lack of appetite&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The latest theory behind all of this is it is all related to the CP. I’m not sure about this because I thought that CP was supposed to be non- progressive? Anyway the problem now is what to do about it all. In Victoria there are no doctors who will treat people with CP if that person is over the age of 18. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So for now I wait til someone decides if it is CP related or not.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was told not to do physiotherapy when I got sick in June because it may have been the cause of my problems.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It wasn’t because if anything the problems are worse and I’m weaker. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I had an interesting conversation with Kate (my therapist) on Tuesday. I asked her if I would be able to get back to where I was before June (walking with a walker and quite strong). She wouldn’t make me any promises but hopes I can.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The point of this very long post: I’ve finally found a physiotherapist who I trust. Now why can’t I find doctors who will treat me? Do other people have this problem?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-3800474059270508506?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/3800474059270508506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=3800474059270508506' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/3800474059270508506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/3800474059270508506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/physiotherapy.html' title='Physiotherapy'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-826531673213869585</id><published>2007-03-26T18:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T18:34:52.959-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Secondary school days</title><content type='html'>&lt;h3&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350288"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120349898"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Secondary School Years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Although the first day of secondary school is hard for everybody, I had the added difficulty of a school that, while it had ramps and access to buildings, was poorly designed in terms of how to access the access to the buildings. On the first day of every school year there would be a whole school assembly. Each year level had a specific door, through which everyone was supposed to enter the building. But only one door had disabled access. That door was not the door through which year sevens were supposed to enter. Nobody had shown me where I was supposed to enter so I went with my friends to where they had to go and found that I couldn’t enter the building. I stood around looking lost until my integration aide (who thankfully had moved up with me from primary school) came along and rescued me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;This made me more nervous and scared than I already was. It was also embarrassing because the rest of the school had already entered the hall by the time I did, so they all turned around and looked at me when I entered.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;The solutions to this problem may seem fairly obvious. I should have been shown how to enter the building on orientation day, or perhaps the school could have simply made that door the access door for year seven.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;The access issues didn’t stop with the assembly hall incident. Sometimes a class would be scheduled in a room that did not have disabled access, so the class would have to stand around waiting while another room was found, and then move to that room. This made me feel like I was creating extra work for the teachers, and embarrassed me because everybody had to stand around just because of me. The class probably didn’t mind so much because it meant we didn’t have to do so much work. However, I felt that the teachers were upset with me for disrupting their plans for the lesson. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I really don’t think I need to write the solution to this one in here; common sense should be enough.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;During my time as a student, the school was renovated. A new disabled toilet was&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;installed. This toilet was big and pretty good in terms of access, aside from one problem. I needed my integration aide to assist me with getting on and off the toilet but required privacy at other times. The problem was the toilet faced the door and was in the main administration building and thus faced a busy corridor. If my aide was to leave the room and give me privacy, I would have been exposed to the school community when nobody wants to be exposed. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;A shower curtain around the toilet solved the problem but it took a long time (or at least what seemed a long time to me) for the school to recognise the need and arrange it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Another issue arose when it came to my attending classes without my integration aide, whom I didn’t need with me all the time. Often she would set me up with my books and go and work somewhere else, and then return to help me pack up my books at the end of class. Some teachers would not allow me in the class without either her or another aide with me. When my aide went on long service leave I missed a whole term of maths class for this reason. I believe this had a major impact on my future, as while I was never great at maths, and never loved it anyway, maths became torture after this. I didn’t do maths at VCE level, which has placed limitations on my career options. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Each maths class the maths&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;teacher would tell me to go and find the coordinator of the integration aides, and ask him to arrange an aide to work with me for that class. I would do so, to be told there were no aides available and to “go study in the library”. I was left struggling through the appropriate textbook by myself, when I should have been in the classroom where the teacher was explaining things.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;The solution to this issue is more complex . Ideally, teachers should be comfortable having students with DisAbilities in their classes, with or without the support of an integration aide. If the teacher is not comfortable with this, an integration aide should be with the student at all times.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I tried to explain to the teacher that I would be fine without an aide and wasn’t about to drop dead or disrupt the class in any way, but he didn’t seem to believe me, or at least didn’t want to take that risk.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I think some people are afraid of things they don’t understand. All of my teachers should have had the opportunity to meet me, along with my aide and parents, to discuss my abilities and needs before the start of each school term. This may have helped the teachers to feel comfortable around me and would have made classes much easier for me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I also feel that I was let down by the coordinator of the integration aides, because he failed to recognise the fact that missing class was a major problem for me, and never spoke to the teacher or arranged an aide to be with me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;My experiences at school were not all bad and I made some really good life long friends during this time. I remember in year 7, some of the boys used to like tormenting me by asking me if I would go out with their friends and then laughing at whatever my response was.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I grew tired of this (as it would happen at least twice a day) and finally said yes one day. Both the boy who asked and the boy I was supposed to go out with turned bright read and the boy who asked came up to me later and said that he was very sorry but he already had a girlfriend.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I told him exactly what I thought of him and suggested that I could go and tell his girlfriend that we would be going on a date that weekend. He didn’t like that idea very much. I don’t know if I would have done it, but watching him squirm was very satisfying. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Another time, a girl who I now understand had a very hard home life and was jealous of me made some cruel remarks about ‘people like me and being allowed out in public’. I fell apart and was ready to leave school and never return but what this incident taught me is that I had some very good friends who comforted me, told the girl where to go and also told the teachers who dealt with her.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I wish I could go back with the confidence and understanding I have now and deal with the situation for myself.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I would probably say to the girl that I understand that she has issues but I have as much right to be a part of society as she does.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;span class="msoIns"&gt;&lt;ins cite="mailto:Karen%20Peatt" datetime="2005-11-21T13:17"&gt;The &lt;/ins&gt;&lt;/span&gt;other major issue in terms of my schooling came when I was to choose my VCE subjects.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wanted to do law when I left school and to get high enough marks to gain a university place I needed to do the science subjects (and probably maths). However the integration coordinator informed me that it was felt that I would require too much assistance from my aide with the experiments for it to be considered my own work. Therefore I was unable to complete the subjects. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Once again I am not sure exactly what the solution is. I know I could have gone to the anti-discrimination board, but that would have made my life in the small town where I live hell on earth and I may not have got my VCE at all.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;One day I will fulfil my dreams, I am just taking the long road to do it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-826531673213869585?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/826531673213869585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=826531673213869585' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/826531673213869585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/826531673213869585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/secondary-school-days.html' title='Secondary school days'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-706842957901246969</id><published>2007-03-25T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T19:55:44.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking With Wheels introduction and early years</title><content type='html'>&lt;h1&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350286"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120349896"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Introduction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;At my primary school the grade sixers get to design a T-shirt that has the names of that year’s students on the back. The slogan on the front of my T-shirt is ‘we don’t need no education’. While this may be seen to be true in terms of how much a twelve year old thinks they need to learn, it sure isn’t true when it comes to improving access to the school community for students with DisAbilities. This is essentially what this book is designed for. It is about my experiences as a person with Cerebral Palsy in the mainstream school system. I hope that people will take my experiences on board and listen to my recommendations when it comes to their child’s schooling. If I can improve the school life of just one person, then this book will have been a success. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I have detailed the major experiences of my primary and secondary school years and tried to come up with solutions to the problems. These solutions will not work for everybody but may be worth trying. I have also written about my education at the moment and asked some of my TAFE teachers for their experiences in&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;working with people with varying kinds of abilities. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope it helps you in some way. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 16pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;  &lt;h1 style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;h1 style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;h1&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350287"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120349897"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;The Early Years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;There was a lot of laughter, a lot of tears. I wouldn’t say that I would not do anything differently, or wished that certain things never happened, because I would be lying if I did. There are things I would do differently if I could borrow Dr Who’s time machine, and I do wish that some parts of my schooling were handled differently by the education system. But I have come to realize that the system, as it stood when I was a student in the 1990’s, had not had&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;much experience with a student with physical DisAbilities but who could handle the work of a ‘normal’ school. I was one of the first people in a wheelchair to attend both my primary and secondary schools.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I don’t remember a lot about my early primary school days, at least not in terms of being an integrated student.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t think I realized that I was any different to my friends. For a child five or six years old, life is about having the right toys. At that stage I had those toys, thus I fitted in fairly well. I used a walking frame, which my Dad had made for me, so I was also able to run and play most of the games the other children played. I was one of them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;By the time I reached Grade 3, I began to have trouble keeping up with my friends and thus received my first set of wheels. They were fluorescent pink. One of my teachers made me a set of L Plates to go on the back because I was not really sure how to control the chair. Looking back, I am sure that most people around me would have had sore feet at one time or another, because I would have accidentally run over them. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;My set of wheels became my independence, but they also separated me from everyone else. They created a difference that could be seen by everybody and limited me in ways that my walking frame never did. For example, I could lift the walking frame up steps if I needed to. For the wheelchair I needed ramps. I think the wheelchair was the thing that made me realize I was different to everybody else. The wheelchair limited the places I could access, and therefore the extent to which I could participate in certain activities both inside and outside school.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Despite the limitations it placed on me at various times, I don’t regret the fact that I use a wheelchair. In terms of being able to travel long distances it has provided me with a freedom I would never have had otherwise..&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;During my primary school years I had a number of therapists come to the school and work with me. These included physiotherapists and occupational therapists, among others. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I was taken out of class to work with these people and this was another way of making me seem different to my friends. Sometimes, a friend would come with me. This made the sessions more fun, and gave my friends more insight to the therapy I needed. I know that having a friend with me made the therapy sessions much more interesting, and this probably made them easier for me. I think my friends being with me at these times also made them more compassionate people as they gained a better understanding of the differences between us as people, and what I needed to do to be like them.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I became good at using computers throughout my Primary School years as I was allowed to stay in the classroom and use them while the rest of the class played sport, or participated in other activities that I couldn’t be are part of. I am thankful that I had the opportunity to use computers so extensively because they have become a big part of my life today. In fact I don’t think I would be writing this without my computer. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I have a lot of friends whom I talk to on the internet. I used to hate it at school when I was made to go and watch the rest of the class play sport because it highlighted to me the fun I was missing out on, and seemed like a waste of time. So using the computer during that time was a major benefit for me in terms of self-esteem and developing and using my skills. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Because I was only a child, and my parents and the school kept me out of decisions regarding my experiences as much as possible, there are really only a few major events&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;relative to my DisAbility that I can remember about Primary School thus. This is to be expected when you are only five years old. But as I grew older it would have been nice to have more of an input into the decisions regarding my schooling and therapies.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;My physiotherapist works on the theory that if she makes the therapy fun a child will be more likely to cooperate. One of the exercises that I had to do was called push-ups. To do these you lie on the floor, on your stomach, and push yourself up off the floor using your arms. One of the ways When I was in grade four this exercise was made fun by having a push up competition.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had to ‘train’ for it. I didn’t win, but it was a good way of letting the whole school community know some of the things that were a part of my therapy. It also gave me a sense of achievement. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Throughout primary school I had two integration aides. One worked with me on Mondays and Tuesdays and the other throughout the rest of the week. They both used very different styles&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;in working with me. For example, each lunch time my aide on Mondays and Tuesdays would either organise some kind of activity for me&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;and my friends, or keep me in the classroom with her. In contrast, my aide for the rest of the week would leave me with my friends and allow us to play&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;together. While the activities I did with my aide on Mondays and Tuesdays were fun, and probably helped me to develop my hand/eye coordination&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;and other skills, I feel that the days where I was left alone with the other kids were more beneficial because they allowed me to show the others that I was capable of being with them without an adult, and let me develop friendships of my own. I am sure the aide on Mondays and Tuesdays had good intentions, but looking back I wonder if she was, in a way, forcing the other students to spend time with me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;Another significant event I recall was when people with DisAbilities visited the school. The first time they came I was in Grade one or two. A man with Cerebral Palsy was going to talk to the grade sixers, but I was allowed to attend, along with two friends. At the time I thought I was really special, but looking back, I wonder if it was a way of showing me what my life may have been like, and perhaps teaching me skills that I may have needed. Fir instance,we got to try writing with our mouths and at that point I couldn’t write.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;The next time a person with DisAbilities came to the school, I was in grade five or six. This person was a quadriplegic and he specifically asked to meet me, but seemed disappointed when I explained that I was born with my DisAbilities. When he asked if the class had any questions one girl asked how he managed in the bathroom. He seemed embarrassed to be asked this and didn’t really know how to answer, saying “What do you mean? The same way you do I guess.” The girl who asked the question confessed later that it was something she wondered about me, but didn’t want to offend or upset me by asking. I assured her that she could always ask me questions, and if I didn’t want to answer I would tell her so. I believe that it is important for people to ask questions about my life. By giving them insights to my life I am more likely to get them to understand life for other people with DisAbilities. This knowledge should help people make the world more accessible for people like me, and hopefully to become more compassionate regarding differences between people. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-706842957901246969?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/706842957901246969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=706842957901246969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/706842957901246969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/706842957901246969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/walking-with-wheels-introduction-and.html' title='Walking With Wheels introduction and early years'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-6417218345251913919</id><published>2007-03-25T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T19:52:07.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking with wheels Post 1</title><content type='html'>Hi All,&lt;br /&gt;Some of you would have read this before but I thought I would post it again for those of you who haven't. It is a work in progress about my education experiences. It is quite long so I think I'll divide it into several posts.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;span style="background: fuchsia none repeat scroll 0%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"&gt;Walking with Wheels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 48pt; font-family: Raavi;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText2"&gt;A guide to providing improved access to the school community for students who have a DisAbility. The guide is designed to inform, students, teachers, parents and other interested parties.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a name="_Toc120350281"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120349892"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Some quotes that inspire me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;h3 style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120349893"&gt;"How is it that you and I are here, sharing these words at this exact time and place? It sure isn’t chance. Whatever the answer is, it's divine. Live today as if it calls for cake."&lt;br /&gt;- Julianna Banana&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;h3&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350282"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120349894"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do."&lt;br /&gt;- Edward Everett Hale&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350283"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Acknowledgements&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;h3 style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Lou Tehan, Cate Whitehead, Cheryl Salmon, Peter Whitehead and Marion Monas in the creation of this book. I would also like to thank Heloz for her help in editing it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;h3&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350284"&gt;I would also like to acknowledge all the people I haven’t mentioned who have shaped my education experience in some way, whether it be in a positive or a negative way. You know who you are.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a name="_Toc120350285"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Preface&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;It is a pleasure to be invited to write the Preface to Karen’s story. I believe that Karen’s reflection on her experiences as a student within the school system has provided valuable insights that may well serve to bridge the gaps in existing systems mainly due to oversights and ignorance in the general community .&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;The information included will hopefully raise our consciousness in regard to the obstacles that exist in school communities and, with simple consideration, are easily addressed. Karen’s story may also&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;imbue the student who is embarking on the education pathway, and her/his family, with more confidence in voicing their needs. It is hoped these voiced needs are met in a supportive and understanding environment that has an increased awareness of the humiliation of being singled out by obstacles within both the physical and social environments of schools and communities in general.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;While policies and protocols exist around equal opportunities for people who have a DisAbility, it is easy for complacency to creep in. The existence of policies requires vigilance in order that the rhetoric matches the reality in relation to implementation of policy. It is important to note the generalisations that exist under the policy umbrella and that the “one size fits all” approach will often require some fine tuning. Karen made a pertinent comment when she said ‘All you have to do is ask me’. Karen states that the best way to make things work is for the able bodied person to put their own fears and hesitancy aside and directly communicate with the person about their needs, the obstacles etc., and work out solutions together. Suchan approach de-stigmatises and is non patronising, creating a culture of inclusivity.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I commend “Walking With Wheels” as another vital contribution to bridging our often unintentional human failings in communication and sensitive support due to the whirlwinds of our busy communities.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 14pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Comic Sans MS&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                                           &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText2"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                                                   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;Ms. Lou Tehan – Creative Arts Therapist&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText3" style="text-align: right;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;                                                           &lt;/span&gt;Grampians Community Health. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-6417218345251913919?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/6417218345251913919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=6417218345251913919' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/6417218345251913919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/6417218345251913919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/walking-with-wheels-post-1.html' title='Walking with wheels Post 1'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-2248100246622907626</id><published>2007-03-24T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T21:09:31.156-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my mixed up head'/><title type='text'>rambling bits</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hello there everybody, &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve been thinking about a lot of things in the past 24 hours since I started this blog. As Emma says I’ve certainly joined the “dark side” now, but am I glad that I have done it? Yes. Until very recently I didn’t know that there was so may blogs out there about disability and in particular CP. In truth, I was thinking about starting a blog long before I was asked to.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m not even sure that anyone will even read this, nor am I sure why anyone would want to. I’m not a great writer and I can’t always put the humorous spin on stuff the way people like Emma seem to. I guess all I can do is offer my own opinions/experiences and people can choose to read it and take away what they want.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve also been thinking about the fact that I am happy to answer people’s questions and I don’t even mind being stopped in the street and asked questions. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes I wonder why it doesn’t bother me and I think it might have something to do with the fact that I see the questions as people being interested in me and what I have to say.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today I have spent some time researching Baclofen (and I’m still kinda confused). I’ve also been reading about a therapy called ABR. I’m not sure I understand it but it probably doesn’t matter because I live in Victoria and it doesn’t seem to be available here. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anybody who wants to can link to my page. I’ll try to write a more exciting post tomorrow but I have visitors coming soon so I’ve got to go.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Keep smiling everyone.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Karen&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-2248100246622907626?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/2248100246622907626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=2248100246622907626' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/2248100246622907626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/2248100246622907626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/rambling-bits.html' title='rambling bits'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3059554023518609207.post-960112549892117334</id><published>2007-03-23T18:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T18:08:40.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>first post</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;G’day everyone,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, this is my first post in my exciting new project. The idea behind this blog is that I write about my experiences as a young woman with Cerebral Palsy (CP) and anything else disability related and hopefully it will become a resource for people with CP, their parents, carers, friends families, teachers and basically anyone out there who is interested. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was asked by my counsellor at the local community centre to write about CP and any related disability issues from my point of view so that it could help raise disability awareness in my community. The only problem she had was that she wasn’t sure how to get my writings out to the community.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I suggested a blog because I hope that people who read it will add their own thoughts and experiences in the comments section and this will become an even bigger/better resource.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m not sure what I’ll write about first, or how often I’ll write on here. I thought I’d write a little about me and you can learn more and get my medical updates at &lt;a href="http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/karenmelissa"&gt;www.caringbridge.org/visit/karenmelissa&lt;/a&gt; . if anyone has any comments or questions or anything to add about what I write up here at any time please leave a comment in the comments section of any post.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My name is Karen and I’m 23 years old and I live in Australia with my parents and dog whose name is Flea and some goldfish. I attend the local TAFE, and university. I love to read and write, watch movies, listen to music and I’m a motor sports fanatic. My favourite colour is purple.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;a type of cp called Spastic Diplegia . it affects my legs and also my right arm. I am not affected by the CP intellectually in anyway although there seems to be an automatic assumption by the community that I am- that’s a post for another day. I use a wheelchair to get around all the time and have both an electric and a manual chair. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If anyone has any questions or anything you’d like to ask me please leave a comment. I will write again really soon.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Karen&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3059554023518609207-960112549892117334?l=wheelyfast.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/feeds/960112549892117334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3059554023518609207&amp;postID=960112549892117334' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/960112549892117334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3059554023518609207/posts/default/960112549892117334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wheelyfast.blogspot.com/2007/03/first-post.html' title='first post'/><author><name>Karen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15416142742785956699</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
