What it's like asking for help in America Part 1

  Hello, my name is Parker Showers and this is my still continuing story of asking for help from social security for my disabilities. Though i hadn't started the application process till i was 18 my story started when i was in second grade, I was your average kid I loved to run around and play sports, specifically i enjoyed soccer and it had been my dream to become a professional goal keeper. Every day i would practice running faster as well as stopping my friends from scoring goals during recess, but then came the day where everything was to change, just like any other day i was being the goalie and my friends were trying there hardest to make a goal. Upon trying to stop a blurring fast ball from making it into the goal i stepped directly on it bringing me straight to the ground, suddenly i try and stand but feel an unfamiliar pain and immediately fall back to the ground. 

  This is the first time i could tell you what it was like asking for help in America my fellow classmates were not sure what to do and most just ran away to the cafeteria to get ready for lunch, the school staff on duty began to yell at me and the few kids that remained in shock at what they had just seen. It was time for us to wash our hands before lunch and they wanted us to stop fooling around, yet they dare not approach us, instead they remain by the other children lining up for lunch. Most of the kids that remained fled for fear of being in trouble, and so i was left laying there still dumbfounded at my inability to stand. Once again the teachers began to yell but this time i realized it was me they were yelling at as i herd my name once again i tried to stand but immediately fell back down. This was seen by the staff as me not listening and so they began to tell me about what would happen if i didn't get up right than. At this point one of my friends who had been playing kickball noticed i was not there in line and came to help me. with there help i was able to stand up and hobble over to the line, seeing i was not just messing around i was given permission to go to the nurse with my friends help. 

  During this short trip i couldn't help but think about how when i clearly needed help it was seen as disobedience by those that i was told were there to protect and teach us. It was a very odd first experience truly needing help, and it would stand as a bench mark for how we treat each other in America for me.

  For the coming weeks i saw doctor after doctor for extreme pain in my left knee, i couldn't even stand on it but the doctors had no clue what was wrong some even would accuse me of faking pain after examining my knee. Then came the day were i met a doctor that understood my condition but not how to treat it, i was diagnosed with legg calve perthes disease, in short this is a disease in witch a blood clot stops blood flow from reaching the hip joint causing the bone to begin the process of dieing and decaying. 

  This was my next odd experience of asking for help, my parents pleaded with this doctor to do anything to help me but they just kept repeating i am not qualified and i don't feel comfortable preforming any of the procedures that may help. At the time i was very mad we finally had found a doctor that figured out what was wrong and he was saying i cant help, now i have the utmost respect for this man. In the doctor world he is the real hero in my opinion as he was unsure of his skills and he was willing to admit it, and though he only put me in traction and could not preform any of the procedures he actually cared about me as a human being not just another broken machine for him to work on, witch is how 90% of doctors have looked at me here in america, not a man but a project.

  During the next couple months i had to try and keep up with my school work while in the hospital, witch was extremely hard to do as most of it was cursive practice and i had an iv in my hand. Slowly i was falling behind though what would you expect after missing several weeks of school. When i became used to the pain i was able to return to school in a wheel chair, and this is where i would next ask for help. this time i needed help getting caught up i didn't want to be behind the rest of my class and have to repeat the second grade. so i went in after school to ask my teacher if she could tooter me and help me catch up in reading and writing. I was not prepared for her response, she looked me in the eye and said you are mentally retarded and incapable of learning i would be wasting my time trying to teach you. This crushed me i asked for help and was told i wasn't worth the trouble by someone who was literally paid to help me and others learn. Another teacher had overheard what she said to me and she was asked to find a new school at the end of the year, also this motivated me in the end because i wanted to prove my teacher wrong i could read and i didn't need her help to figure it out. I don't remember exactly how the ar program worked but i believe i was reading at a 4th grade level according to that by the end of the school year. I was just a slow reader compared to my classmates who could read as much as 5 times faster than me, yet i had the best comprehension in my class because i wanted to understand what i read not just read it faster like we were being taught with skimming.

  Sorry i got off topic from what i originally wanted to talk about, but i guess ill be turning this post into my life story if people are interested in having me continue ill move forward in chronological order, as it turns out i have a lot on my mind to talk about and one post isn't enough to do it justice. i had originally just wanted to talk about my disabilities and how they effected my interactions with other people but i felt that i wasn't telling the real story by doing that, and the end of second grade seemed like a good first stopping point. Thank you for reading my post and i hope you enjoyed it so far. I look forward to continuing my story next time.