You know you're a P.A. when....

So I recently asked the lovely team Greene to help me compile a list of the funniest/quirky aspects involved in being a PA. Here is the list that we came up with...

You know you're a PA when....
1) You guide a little finger into a nail dryer.
2) You become used to having wet socks/tights after helping someone have a shower.
3) You start to really hate bus drivers after hearing 'sorry you can't get on, there's already a buggy on the bus'.
4) You go to Costa and ask for a cup of tea to eat in, in a take away cup that's not too full up and totally confuse the staff.
5) You feel like Gok Wan after getting an approving nod from an outfit that you've pieced together.
6) You check the disabled loos for the appropriate bars even when you're not with a disabled person.
7) Seeing a tennis ball in bed (to relieve back pain) becomes completely normal.
8) You check every place you walk into for a step.
9) You cannot explain what your job involves because people think PAs work in offices and the term 'carer' offends you.
10) You carry a bizillion bags regularly.
11) You develop methods to avoid inducing spasms like clapping loudly or whacking your thighs when you enter a room.
12) You can't stand lumps in the duvet so take at least 10 minutes trying to flatten said duvet after you've made the bed.
13) You become used to staring at the ceiling in a shop so that the staff will direct their questions towards the person in the wheelchair.
14) You're fed up of hearing 'that must be so rewarding'.

"Are your knees just really excited?" Child aged 4

I think I now factor the effects of Cerebral Palsy into my life much more than I ever have. One of the downsides of mainstream schooling for me was that I learnt to ignore my body to fit in. As a consequence, I spent the majority of my teens making myself look and feel as "normal" as possible so I ignored the back pain from sitting for hours, my added fatigue and would rarely utter a word to the outside world about my frustrations. But you can't do this forever...

I've always always wanted to teach and I put a lot of dogged determination into making this dream a reality but I didn't really think about how working life would work for me. I didn't want to consider that being disabled would affect my ability to work.  I just wanted to do it, to be a class teacher and help children learn. It was only during my dreadful third year placement that I realised that some employers would only see a wheelchair and judge accordingly. I also realised how gruelling a teacher's life can be and that working 60 hours a week would and did take its toll. So I left university with very little confidence about obtaining and maintaining a teaching job.

I started volunteering in local schools part-time the year that I finished my degree and I noticed that part-time hours were agreeing with my body and therefore my body was agreeing with me more than it did when I was studying and would push myself beyond my limits. I came to the conclusion that I was very glad that I'd pushed myself through school and during my degree but that this was now adult life and I couldn't keep ignoring what my body needed.

The decision to work part-time didn't come easily to me, it meant I had to bid farewell to the idea of being a class teacher and had to give in to the fact that I don't have an able-bodied body nor do I have the stamina of an able-bodied person. That's hard when you're so used to fighting and proving yourself in a mainstream world but I knew I was making the right choice. I needed to protect the longevity of my health and I didn't want to burn out two years down the line. I also wanted to work independently but my independence level comes at a price. It means increased muscle pain and tiredness but it's important to me so I do it. Working part-time means that I can be independent at work in the mornings but come home at lunchtime and give myself the support and rest that I need in the afternoons. I still have times when I feel sad about not teaching full-time, but  I know that I'm still teaching and working with children. I know that I'm making my legs happy and I know that this way I have enough energy to see my friends and have a social life. It's the right balance for me.

My journey as a writer

Writing has always been a bit of a battle for me. Without the full range of movement in my  shoulders plus the added strain put upon my arms through transferring and weight bearing, it was inevitable that writing would be an issue. It was clear from an early age that the more I wrote the more illegible my handwriting became so it was something that my 1:1 support worker at primary school used to help me with if I got too tired or had to write for a sustained period. I also tried out a range of assistive technology like having a computer so I could type my school work instead of writing it but it was the same issue. Typing requires use of the same muscles in ones shoulder as writing so alas I'd get tired and my arm would get sore. I also trialled voice activated software so that I could dictate what I wanted to write and the computer would transform my sentence into print. Sadly, this type of software in the early 2000's required very clear speech in order to accurately type out what was being said and stammering meant that I would say "I went to the park" and see "when I went to San Francisco..." Not the most useful...
When I went to secondary school I wrote for myself initially in every lesson, without support and I was quite happy doing it. It meant that in my preteen years I could appear more 'normal' and independent which I was relieved about. But then the dreaded GCSE years came, I had a bigger workload and different stresses and I had to face up to the fact that I couldn't keep up with the writing. Unlike when I was younger and it would just become less legible I was actually reaching points where I couldn't physically write sod all. I told my mum and she arranged for the O.T to come out and assess my writing abilities so that provisions could be put in place for my exams. The O.T came in and asked me to write the sentence "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" over and over for three minutes. I couldn't even write it once. Very demoralising for this to be your reality at 15 but there it was staring me in the face. I couldn't write a sentence yet had so much to say. It was decided that I would dictate my GCSE exams and have them scribed for me. Dictation is not an easy or natural process but it's a skill that I developed for my GCSEs and A-levels as I wrote essays by saying 3 words at a time and giving the scribe time to write it. It's not a route that anyone chooses to write about King Lear, Feminism and Freud through but it was the only way. I found this process long, drawn out and very tiring, I found it hard to keep track of what I wanted to write with the constant need to stop and wait for it to be written but I made my own notes which helped. I also realised through dictation that I think through my pen ie when I write ideas come to me but as I dictated it was harder to allow thoughts to flow. It made me learn the art of being clear and concise as it's very hard to ramble 3 words at a time. I think I took to this aspect easily partly because stammering prohibits your ability to waffle so getting to the point was something that came easily.
Luckily, I chose a degree that included two exams in the whole three years so I only had to dictate under pressure and timed conditions twice. However we had a lot of coursework and essays that I dictated to my note taker which though were written in a more relaxed set up, brought up similar frustrations.
When I look at all that I've achieved, I feel proud of the fact that I did it through dictation, scribes and additional arrangements for exams. I'm also proud that I proved myself in spite of all those that doubted me and my intelligence level. I don't think people know how much you are subject to people thinking that your mental age is that of an 18 month old when you have a disability and that this perception is exacerbated when you stammer and even more so when they can't read what you've written. I've fought against this my whole life. My degree means so much to me because that was the proof to the world and to myself that I could do it, I could achieve. I can unlock my thoughts and express myself, it's just a matter of finding a way.