|
Being Different
BY Silvia Lawniczak
On most days the furthest thing
from my mind is my child being different from any other. We laugh,
play together, even bandage changes are so routine it feels like
a 'normal' thing to do. I don't have any other children, so I
don't have anybody to compare him to on a daily basis, and that
might very well be a blessing. I don't sit there feeling sorry
for myself, or feel sorry for Nicky that much, if at all. We
just live and take care of what needs to be done.
|
That all changes, however, once
we go out in public. The stares, the questions, seeing other
kids my son's age do things Nicky will never be able to do, can
truly be heartbreaking. I often worry about Nicky's mental state
seeing other kids do things he cannot do, and that is why I try
my best to get him to spend some time with children like him.
I also try to help him do the things he cannot do and do them
in a creative way. Like holding him in my lap to go on a swing,
or down the slide. |
|
The questions and reactions
I get from people are varied.
There are those who just ask
'What happened', and after I offer my initial brief explanation
they walk away (yes, they walk away!). Then there are those people
who truly seem concerned and ask a million questions... I like
these people, but there are only a few of them out there. I even
had some wonderful souls who start crying, WOW. Then there are
those people who think are out of earshot but aren't, who comment
or try to explain to their children what is 'wrong' with Nicky...
and they always without fail get it wrong. They will say 'he
got burned in a fire', or 'he was in an accident' or things of
sort. Others tell me about their cousin or aunt with a skin disorder
(usually eczema or similar) or think they know what it is, but
it's never the case. Any skin disorder pales compared to EB (Epidermolysis
Bullosa), so I know they don't understand how badly Nicky
is affected. To most others I hand out a card that explains what
Nicky has in simple terms, and that has worked best because it
has links to websites to get more info.
The stares sometimes are the
cruelest things.
Admittedly, I have gotten used
to having my child stared at, and I know that is true because
when there are other people with us they comment constantly on
this person or that person staring that I did not even notice.
There are also different kinds of staring. There is the staring
out of curiosity that ends just as quickly as it started. Then
there is the persistent stare-the one that follows you for a
whole minute or five! Then there is the 'yuk' stare (my personal
peeve), the 'poor baby' stare, but my favorite is the stare with
a smile... but my child rarely gets those, unfortunately.
I realize that people are curious
and notice things that are different than what our society feels
is 'normal'. Picking out what's different is a skill children
learn at a young age, perhaps it's a skill that is part of being
human, and that enables us to pick the freshest fruit to eat
or avoid illness or an accident. Nicky's only difference though,
it's on the outside. His skin may be damaged, and he might have
tons of wounds and limitations, but inside, he's as whole as
any of us. Perhaps more. He has a keen sense of love and his
ability to love and even forgive me, or anyone, for anything,
is beyond measure. He is without a doubt the happiest child anyone
has ever seen. Even after an excruciating bandage change full
of blood and needles he's so happy it's over he comes over for
a hug and starts singing, and that smile... boy, that just melts
my heart.
My child's disability is only
part of who he is, but because his disability is so incredibly
visible, I feel too many people tend to concentrate on that alone,
and that is very sad. What a world this would be if people would
only be judged by their insides...
©Copyright Silvia Lawniczk 2003 |