I Hate the Term 'Special Needs'

I hate the term "special needs." I mean, hate it. Can't stand it. I don't want my son to be labeled as such, and I refuse to be called a special needs parent.

That label is reserved for sick kids-- severely sick kids. My kid isn't sick. He's not. He's... not. Right?

That was me, from the minute my son was born, and we knew he was different. My husband could see his right arm, and his smaller, out-of-proportion-from-the-rest-of-his-body, sweet hand flailing about as the nurses cleaned him up after my c-section.

He whispered, "There's something wrong with his hand," and leaned his forehead against mine as I lay on the operating table, slipping in and out of consciousness from the extra dose of anti-anxiety meds I suspect the anesthesiologist pushed through my epidural just then.

Those few days in the hospital were a daze. It didn't feel like we had just welcomed a precious new addition to our family. It felt wrong, off... like a dark cloud hovered over us in the recovery room. The nurses could feel it; they could sense the shock we were still in.

Once we took him home, though, it seemed to get better. To have him occupy the spaces we had been anticipating seeing him in for so long-- in the swing, on the changing table, in his crib with the carefully selected bedding-- it changed our perspective, slightly. The shock still hung in the air, but it was wearing off. The hand would be dealt with, but in the meantime, he was still our precious newborn, and that giddy, new parent feeling began to emerge.

Twelve days after he was born, right as he was starting to get a routine down, we noticed how fast he was breathing... nearly three times that of a normal newborn. We rushed him to the ER, and from there he was flown to a children's hospital two hours away.

It was then that they began taking inventory of all the things wrong with our baby we didn't know he had.

• One non-functioning cystic kidney.


• Two heart murmurs, one of which was quite large and disturbing.


• His small hand.


• A large inguinal hernia.


• An immature 7th nerve, resulting in paralysis of his left eye and eyebrow.


• A partially-collapsing airway.


• Aspirating his foods, which required the installment of a G-button.

All of these anomalies together, according to the geneticist, gave him a diagnosis of VACTERL Association. It is not a chromosomal or genetic abnormality, rather just a name for an observation of body system malfunctions that are often seen together. At this time in the research, it's thought to be due to environmental factors, or lack of blood flow at a certain point of development. Thankfully, thankfully, it's not often associated with any mental deficits.

It was in the middle of discussing with a nurse about us needing a medical supply company for his g-button equipment that I realized... these are special needs. This is what a special needs conversation sounds like. This is his life, and our life, now.

Special needs is not derogatory. It doesn't mean he's defective, or wrong. It doesn't mean he'll be special needs forever... or maybe it does. It just means that right now, there are some things his body can't do on its own-- like, close his left eye, or swallow formula, and he needs extra help, from doctors, nurses, specialists, and his parents.

It's not about the label. It's about getting those extra things, whatever they may be, to help your child grow and thrive.

Jackson is a special needs baby. I embrace that now, and it doesn't scare me. And, my husband and I are special needs parents. New ones, nervous ones, but also determined.

However, above that label, Jackson is our baby; he's the final piece to our family. He, along with his sister, complete our lives.

Traveling Down Life's Road

Hello all, I am one of your older bloggers, I just might be your oldest blogger on this site. So, if wisdom comes through age, then I got that goin on!!

Over 25 years ago, my husband and I became foster parents and were blessed with the ability to adopt three of the 9 kids who walked through our door. All three are girls, they each have dark hair and brown eyes and their middle names each was Ann. They all have different special needs. As the days and weeks go by, I will tell you about each of them and the different journeys each has taken. For now, I thought that I would try to give you some idea of what the beginning of this journey was like. Won't you spend a little time traveling this road with me?

My husband, Bob and I married just about 30 years ago, September 22 is our anniversary. I had one incredibly wonderful daughter from my first marriage, who has issues with dyslexia. One day, shortly after we were married, I shared my desire for more children with my Bob. I truly wanted 5 kids running around the house, but due to my issues with insulin dependent diabetes, having more children was not in the cards. Although it was many years ago, my husband's mom was part of a family of 11 girls, 2 were foster sisters and one was an adopted sister, who grew up to be a "Sister", I mean a Mother Superior. The idea of fostering and adoption was therefore, not strange or uninviting to him.

We had our interview, filled out the paperwork and began the process of becoming certified Foster Parents. Part of the process was for us to take something called, the MAP training, this is a 12 hour, in class training on parenting, in all it's forms, discipline, nutrition, sibling rivalry, behavior and more. We took the classes very seriously looking back, I am so glad we did, those classes and the mandatory 4 hours of yearly recertification was an immense help in handling many of the issues that came up as we negotiated the twist and turns of the road we travel to this day.

In September of that year, I was at work as property manager for a condo in Long Island, NY. I was sitting in my office dealing with a very quiet afternoon, when the phone rang, it was the foster care agency. let's take a minute to set the scene...the policy of the agency was that you were told there was a placement and you had to tell them right then and there if you wanted that child so, true to the directions, I was told there was a two year old girl who needed a foster home, I said YES! immediately and was told she would be on her way within the hour. I hung up, sat there stunned and began to think...leaving in an hour...how long would that be before she would get to us...we needed diapers, bottles, a car seat, would she have clothes, toys, should I get baby food for her. I was reeling. Then my husband called just to check in, I thought he knew, I believed the agency had contacted him as well, so I began babbling, "we need to get a car seat, diapers, milk", I was shaking all over. My husband finally said, "what are you talking about?" I melted at that moment and in a soft voice said, "Oh you don't know!", I told him what was happening. I was just about a big blob by then, "I thought you knew" I said with almost no strength left in my voice. Now we were two puddles, two grown adults, on a phone just sighing. The moment passed and the plans began to take shape, I would come home and he would meet me there, a car seat, yes a car seat was most important, no, diapers, no bottles or sip cups or both!

We went together to the store, running into some women who were shopping and, with their help, as well as, a number of other people who were caught up in our enthusiasm and to feeling the joy, the shopping began. Soon they were all running through the store, even calling out loudly "Marcia, do you think she will need this toy or that brand of diapers!" by the time we reached the register, there were four or five women standing there, smiling and giggling, sharing a part of our awesome experience. It was one of the most beautiful moments in my life. We packed the car with our baby treasures, hugged the ladies and said good bye to and headed home, hoping that our sweet little Nicole wasn't waiting in the driveway!
NO SUCH LUCK!

The evening progressed, we couldn't eat or watch TV or even talk to each other, we sat, then we paced, then we sat some more. Finally the phone rang, it was the people who were bringing this child to us. They were lost, adding almost an hour onto the trip. Finally, at 10 PM I saw the exhaust of a black car in front of our home. I raced to the door, Bob telling me to go ahead as he held our very gentle dog from running out into the street. I made the journey from my front door to the curb just in time to see a lady reach into the back seat, she turned around and revealed this amazing cabbage patch doll for real! The lady said "go to your mommy" and in that second she was in my arms! She was soaking wet, held on to an empty bottle and just looked at me bewildered. Her name was Nicole, now Nikki and this was the beginning of the journey of raising 3 preciously awesome girls, with needs far more than I knew or understood at that time.

All 3 of my girls have disabilities: there are learning disabilities, mental challenges, combined with autism spectrum, cerebral palsy and a thing they once call RAD Reactive Attachment Disorder, an ongoing diagnosis that changes as a person gets older, but become somewhat more complicated, there is short term auditory memory delay child hood seizures and more.

I have spent the past 25 years dedicated to their needs and the needs of other people in our community. I have run support groups, sat on boards and councils, raised funds for people and charities and more. I have experienced much about places to go for services and places NOT to go. I have talked to families facing many issues: SMA, CP, Spina Bifida, Childhood Cancer, Group Homes for adults, and so much more. Hopefully in the coming blogs, there will be some tidbit of information that I have received from my experiences and those of others who have already touch our families lives. I hope that I can continue to be an advocate for my children and others needing the help so that they can experience joy that all of us, as parents and citizens of a deeply pasionate community of people want and need to find for our children. I would like to be blessed with the ability to relate stories, thoughts and information that provide encouragment and might get someone through a dark hour. I am here to share and to learn from you all. Thank you for reading how my journey began...See you again soon!

What I want this Mother’s Day

I remember my first Mother’s Day well.  I was so excited to finally be celebrating as a new mom.  In my mind I built it up to be this glorious, amazing day.  I would sleep in late, be served breakfast in bed, and leisurely make my way to the living room.  The laundry would be done and folded, the house would be immaculate.  Grocery shopping would be done for the week.  My daughter would have just had a bath, and be clean and happy.  I'd go get a massage and have a mani/pedi.  My hair would look perfect (because I'd actually do it) and I'd look and feel great about my post-baby body.  I'd receive a beautiful card and a thoughtful gift.  Dinner would be a culinary masterpiece and a layered chocolate cake would top things off.  I'd get to bed early between nice clean sheets and have a full night's rest.



 

 

And ..... that's not quite how it went.

 

 

On my first Mother's Day, my daughter had only been home from the NICU for 5 weeks, and I wouldn't leave her side.  She was still on oxygen and an apnea monitor, and I didn't feel comfortable with anyone else watching her.  My husband and I were also the only ones who could feed her, since we had to feel whether she was still breathing, and sometimes rub her back to stimulate her.  On top of that, I had postpartum that was so awful at times that I couldn't get out of bed, much less shower and go out.  So we decided to stay in for my first Mother's Day.  I didn't sleep in.  I barely slept at all with the apnea monitor beeping all night and my daughter crying.  My husband tried so hard to make sure I had a good day, and he made a huge effort to make me an awesome dinner.  But he'd never cooked lobster before.  We learned he's not real good at it.  He also made shrimp cocktail, but the shrimp weren't thawed.  There was no cocktail sauce.  The sink was full of dirty dishes.  I never showered and my hair never got done.  My nails?  Yeah, right.  I was depressed and upset with my post-baby body.  Dirty laundry was everywhere.  The house was a mess.  My daughter de-statted the entire day and refluxed/projectile vomited more times than I could count.  I was covered in puke most of the day.  So was the house.  She screamed through every feeding (oral aversion, G-tube wasn't in the picture yet).  By the time we ate the lobster it was cold and gross.  I cried a lot and was horribly depressed.  The day was actually somewhat of a disaster.  Nothing went right.  Or rather, nothing went the way I thought it was supposed to.

 

You see, I built up this idea in my head of the perfect Mother's Day that was impossible and out of reach.  It set unrealistic expectations on me, my husband, and my daughter.  I had this picture of how it was supposed to be, and when the day didn't live up to that, it left me feeling empty and disappointed.  I was angry and frustrated.  I only got one first Mother's Day and I thought it was wrecked.  But I failed to realize that it wasn't wrecked, that was just the way I was viewing it.

 

I am blessed with an incredibly loving, understanding, and supportive husband who tried so hard to make it a memorable day, but I failed to realize that he was also navigating this scary, uncharted journey through special-needs parenthood, and he had equally difficult moments as me.  I was still on maternity leave, he was back at work.  He was also trying to take care of me with my awful post-partum days and had a lot on his plate.  Expecting all those things to be done was unrealistic and selfish on my part.  And expecting my daughter to suddenly have a great day when we knew she had lots of issues and needed extra care was equally unrealistic.  I couldn't turn my 2lb preemie into a miraculously healthy baby just so I could have a good Mother's Day.  I couldn't expect her to feed great, not need her oxygen, or not de-stat.  She was still hooked to tubes and wires, she still hated the bottle, she was still an a-typical child recovering from a very difficult, very early birth with a lot of health issues. It was wrong and unfair of me to expect anything different.

 

But I couldn't realize that right away.  For a long time I was too blind to see all the good things that happened on that Mother's Day, I was just so focused and preoccupied on everything being 'perfect.'  Looking back on that day now, we can laugh (it took a while).  It was a comedy of errors, really.  Time and perspective has helped me appreciate all the things that were GOOD that happened.  My daughter was alive.  Worth repeating: My daughter was alive.  She made it through major surgery at 10 days old.  We weren't in the NICU any longer.  My daughter was at home, and in my arms.  I had a loving, supportive husband and father to my baby.  I was surrounded by the two people I love more than anything in this world.  We had wonderful, loving family who lived close-by.  We had jobs, cars, food, and a roof over our heads.  Who cares if there wasn't a crafty card with my daughter's handprint or a gift waiting for me?  Who cares if dinner sucked, or I didn't shower or get pampered, or didn't sleep in?   Who cares if the house and I were covered in puke?  (That became a new norm for us anyways).  What mattered is that the two people in this world who made me a mom - my husband and my daughter – were by my side.  I was surrounded by them and their love on my first Mother's Day.  That's what mattered.

 

When I was admitted to the hospital at 26 weeks gestation in preterm labor, my husband had packed some of my books to keep me occupied - including "What to Expect When You're Expecting."  As I unpacked in my hospital room, I saw the book and it upset me.  I asked him to take it back home.  It didn't apply anymore.  I could no longer expect anything I read in that book, or any other book for that matter.  I no longer knew what to expect at all.  I had to take my preconceived notions and ideas of how it was supposed to be, and throw them out the window.  And that's what I've been learning to do for the last 2 1/2 years.  It's not an easy feat.  It can actually be very painful at times.

 

There's a quote that says "What screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be."  With Mother's Day, I had to take the idea in my head of how it's supposed to be - or how I thought it should be - and just throw it out the window.  Because it didn't apply anymore.  Because not everything goes how you think it's going to.  As MOMs, we all know that.  We are all on unexpected, unanticipated journeys in this life and have had to throw our ideas of how it's supposed to be away.  That's a really, really difficult thing to do at times.  It's also a very emotional thing to do, because we have to let go of the way we wanted things to be.  That can mean letting go of certain plans for ourselves, or for our children.  But I think letting go of the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be, is the only real way to see and appreciate the good things that we DO have.  I had to let go of my idea of the perfect Mother's Day in order to appreciate the good and beautiful things that did happen on that day, and to appreciate how lucky I was to have my daughter.

 

For this Mother’s Day, do I want a clean house?  Sure.  A nice dinner?  Absolutely!  Even just a card?  I’d love one.  But if I don’t get any of those things, that’s ok.   I may never get a handprint card from my daughter, because she screams when there's stuff on her hands (sensory issues).  Having a clean house with a 2 year old is IMPOSSIBLE.  And enjoying a nice meal?  She won't sit at the table for more than five minutes and she'll only eat ketchup or barbeque sauce (feeding issues), which ends up everywhere.



 

Our society has made this holiday into a day of unrealistic expectations, which only lead to disappointment.  Instead of focusing on spa appointments, cute crafts, a clean house, or a gourmet meal, I’d rather just focus on the beautiful people in my life who enabled me to celebrate this holiday – the people who made me a mom.  I don’t want to have my heart set on ridiculous expectations of what this day should hold.  I don’t want to focus on preconceived notions set by people who haven’t faced the same struggles that we have, who don't understand the issues we face.  I’d rather remember the beautiful miracle that I have in my daughter, and remember how far we’ve come.  She reminds me just how precious life is, to celebrate every milestone with joy (no matter how late), to live in the moment, and to never take anything for granted.  I feel honored this Mother’s Day to be her mom, she has taught me so much.  All I need on this holiday is to look into her eyes and see her smile.

 

Plus, who wants crappy lobster anyways?

 

 I would like to wish each and every MOM a truly wonderful and happy Mother's Day this year.  May it be filled with joy and love.

 

She Taught Me To Have Faith - In Myself

Faith. It’s one of those funny things. For each of us it means something a little different. Merriam Webster defines faith as "a strong belief or trust in someone or something; belief in the existence of God; strong religious feelings or belief, or a system of religious beliefs." Somewhere in that definition, I think we can each find our own meaning of faith.

For me, faith has less to do with God and more to do with what I can see & touch & feel. Do I have faith in God? Yes. But it’s easier for me to have faith in something that’s tangible. I was raised in a very devout, religious household. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve developed my own belief system and I find that it’s very different from my upbringing. My husband and I don’t go to church or partake in any kind of organized religion. We were married by a justice of the peace. I believe in God, but that’s about as far as it goes.

For many, many people of all different backgrounds, being a part of a community or religion is an essential part of their everyday life, it’s who they are. Belief in a God/Christ/deity/holy being/higher power and prayer to Him/Her/It is how they are able to make it through the day. For still others, God is there and church is something they go to, but perhaps it’s more on the back burner in their daily life. We are all different, unique, and beautiful in how we believe - or don’t believe - in a God.

Faith is kind of the same way. It’s different for all of us. I think we all have faith in someone, or something. Faith may typically be linked to God, or a religion, but it doesn’t have to be. For me, faith is the knowledge that I was given my daughter for a reason, that there is some kind of higher power out there that put us together. Somehow we were paired up (and perhaps God comes into the picture there, I’m not really sure) but I know it was not by chance that she came into my life. She needed me, and I needed her. She knew there were things I needed to learn about myself, and she was going to teach me.

I planned on a normal, full term pregnancy. I planned on bringing home a healthy, chubby baby after a 2 or 3 day hospital stay. I planned on everything being perfect. She had something else in mind. At 27 weeks gestation my daughter was born, weighing just over 2lbs. They weren’t sure if she was going to make it and prepared us for the worst. Somehow though, throughout the surgeries and specialists and close calls in the NICU, I never doubted that she would live. I knew my daughter was going to be ok. Her dying was never a thought that I entertained. It just never occurred to me that it was going to happen. I had faith in her.



What she has taught me over the last two years is to have faith in myself as well. She has taught me that I have more patience and strength than I ever imagined possible. I can try to soothe a screaming baby at 2am who’s hungry but refuses to eat. I can reinsert a mic-key button (by myself) that my toddler just pulled out. I can fight with doctors and insurance companies and medical supply companies to get her the necessary treatments and therapies. I can juggle working full time while keeping appointments with her litany of specialists. I can handle her meltdowns in stores and malls because she can’t process the sensory overload. She has taught me that one person can make a difference, because I make a difference to her.

My daughter has helped me find the confidence and self-assurance that I was missing. I’m a different person because of her, a better person. She has taught me to have faith in ME. She has taught me to not doubt myself, but to trust my gut instinct, and to know that everything I’m doing is for her good. She has taught me that I’m not just a mom, I’m a MOM. And she has taught me to believe in myself.

Faith is different for all of us, but I think it’s something we all need to have on this journey. I never realized how much it was lacking in my life until my daughter showed me. For me, it’s not faith in God or a religion. It’s not faith in something else. It’s faith in myself. I know I can handle whatever life throws my way. Everything happens for a reason, and I was blessed with Elizabeth to teach me these lessons and to show me who I am capable of becoming. I am forever grateful to her for that gift.

A Different Perspective

I have always been a dreamer. When I became a social worker, I did so because I wanted to make a difference. My goal was to impact the lives of differently-abled children; I wanted each child that I worked with to know that they are not defined by what they cannot do or some obscure medical term. I wanted each child to know that they are cherished and valued. You see, I was born with Cerebral Palsy and walk with crutches.

I can’t lie. Life can be hard and there have certainly been times I have literally been in tears. I know what it’s like to be judged by others and to have to overcome obstacles and stereotypes. I have come to understand that the world is not always fair. Despite my best efforts to blend in and not be singled out for being different, people do indeed judge and at times try to set limits to what they think I can do. And now I’m going to admit something totally crazy, something that may not make sense to anyone at all… My disability, my crutches are a gift.

I have a new job. I love, LOVE my job, it’s my dream job. I now work at Whitestone School for Child Development, a CPSE preschool in Queens, NY. I have always dreamed of working in a preschool because I love children and I have always wanted to use my disability to positively impact others.



I attended a CPSE preschool and know that I am where I am today, in part due to the services and early intervention I received there. While my memory of those days are fuzzy, I remember I loved it! I loved my teacher, Miss Jody (Yes, I still remember her name) and my therapists were also great! I had a lot of friends who were just like me and no one judged me, made fun of me or left me out.

When I entered kindergarten, I attended Henry Viscardi School; a school for the disabled founded by Dr. Henry Viscardi, who also had a disability. I remember seeing him in the hallways and hoping to one day be like him and help others. As I got older and truly understood how much he had done to advance and advocate for the rights of people with disabilities, the more convinced I became that I wanted to be like him and leave a mark.

There’s something that I was not prepared for…being denied opportunities because of my disability. I was raised in a family where I was no different than my siblings. My mother has always been my greatest ally and advocate but she also believed in being honest with me. “You have to work harder and do better because people will judge you” she’d tell me. Followed quickly by, “but you can do anything if you work hard enough.” While the first half of her statement always annoyed me, I always believed she was right, that I could do anything. I also went to amazing schools and had great teachers who also made sure I was never treated differently, so I grew up assuming that all of my dreams would come true as long as I did my best and worked to make my dreams reality. Reality isn’t that simple; people are not always nice. I’ve been on more than one interview where people made it quite obvious that my crutches made them uncomfortable. I quickly learned that my mother was right. It seemed to me that my dream of making a difference would never come true. Every time I thought I’d found the perfect job for me, I’d hit a brick wall. My crutches always seemed to get in the way, be the “elephant in the room.” I had always believed that I could do whatever I wanted and that if I worked hard enough, I could achieve my dreams. Out of my own naiveté I had never really seen my crutches as an issue. I am as independent as I can be and I have never let crutches stop me.

I was beginning to question if I was ever going to be able to make a difference. I was ready to give up on my dream when I got the phone call to come in for an interview. Can I admit I was nervous? I was excited but hesitant. I was convinced I was going to hit another brick wall. Boy, was I shocked when two days after the interview I was offered the job!

You see, I have finally come full circle working at Whitestone School for Child Development. I am finally in a place where people don’t stare at me or refer to me as “the girl with the crutches,” I don’t have to explain myself. I walk into a classroom and all the children shout, “Hi, Laura! Come play!” The children know my name! I may never know how much of a difference I am making in their lives but I certainly hope that they all come to understand that they are amazing and so very capable of achieving their dreams. I hope that in my own way, I am giving back to all of those who gave to me, who helped me get to where I am today. I am truly more grateful than words can ever express! Now do you understand why I say my crutches are a gift? They don’t define me, they are not who I am. It is my hope that when people see me they see the person I am; someone who is truly happy and grateful for the opportunity to positively impact others and just maybe, leave a mark…yes, I still dream big!

Contributed by Laura Nunez

Animal/Pet Therapy

“In an age of research when it is tempting to reduce human emotions to biochemical reactions and to rely heavily on the technology of medicine, it is refreshing to find that a person’s health may be improved prescribing contact with other living things. Members of the health and allied professions must continue to combine resources, work together in the spirit of cooperation, and never forget to ‘cure when possible but comfort always.’ ”
~ Michael J. McCulloch, MD (1981), co-founder of Delta Society, now known as Pet Partners®


Although intuitively known for thousands of years, the benefits of interacting with pets has only been scientifically studied beginning in the latter half of the 20th century. Research began in the 1970’s when visionaries Leo Bustad, a veterinarian, Michael McCulloch, a psychiatrist, his brother William McCulloch, a veterinarian, and several other veterinarians formed The Delta Foundation, now known as Pet Partners. The organization was originally founded to pioneer the scientific study of the health benefits of the human-animal bond.

In part because of the efforts of this organization over the past 36 years, there are now several classifications and uses of domestic animals, many of which can be very helpful for children with special needs.

Service dog
A service dog is one that is specially trained to perform a task or tasks that alleviate an owner/handler’s disability. Individuals who utilize service dogs are protected under the Americans with Disabilities Act to have their dog accompany them into most public places. The ADA no longer recognizes any species other than dogs (or in some cases miniature horses) as service animal.

These amazing dogs can be trained to help children with autism, cognitive disorders, mobility limitations, seizures and to alert someone in the case of a medical emergency. There are hundreds of service animal training organizations across the country, but still there is a high demand in relation to a limited supply of dogs. If you are interested in researching the advantages of a service dog, it is never too soon to start the process. Pet Partners has an extensive online directory of service dog trainers: www.petpartners.org/servicedogtrainerdirectory. This directory can be searched by state and disability training type. Please note that these organizations are not necessarily recommended by Pet Partners; their inclusion is meant only as a resource. You are encouraged to read this section of their website for further information and consumer considerations: www.petpartners.org/ConsumerInfo.

Emotional Support Animal
Providing comfort and security, emotional support animals (ESAs) can be very valuable to a family with a special needs child. Although they may also perform some type of “work” for their owner, it is mostly the pet’s mere presence alone that is beneficial. “Unconditional love,” despite the limitations or appearance of their owners, is what most people describe as the biggest benefit gained from the bonds with these animals. People who own ESAs are protected under the Fair Housing Act to keep these animals in a public housing situation, but the property manager has the right to ask for documentation from a health care provider that the animal(s) is necessary for the person’s health and well-being. As with the ADA, however, the Fair Housing Act requires that the animal does not alter the environment for others; s/he must be held on a leash in public areas, must be well-controlled, clean and quiet. For more information about the Fair Housing Act as it relates to assistance animals, please visit http://www.hud.gov/offices/pih/programs/ph/rhiip/phguidebooknew.pdf, section 16.1.

Companion Animal or Pet
Although there is no legal definition for these types of animals, research has proven the therapeutic effects of having a pet in the household. For example:

• Owning a pet enhances a child’s self-esteem.


• Having pets teaches children responsibility and respect towards other living beings.


• Children owning a pet are more involved in activities such as sports, hobbies, clubs or chores.

Pet Partners’ website has a vast library of articles, abstracts, book references, etc. detailing the beneficial effects of the human-animal bond: https://petpartners.org/Health_Benefits_for_Children.

Animal-Assisted Therapy
Animal-Assisted Therapy (AAT) is a relatively recent treatment adjunct for many healthcare professions. AAT can be a significant part of treatment for many people who are physically, socially, emotionally or cognitively challenged. These sessions are more than just “fun” time with an animal; they are goal-oriented, therapist-guided visits with specific desired progress and outcomes. The benefits of AAT are many:

• Improved fine motor skills


• Improved balance


• Lowered blood pressure and heart rate


• Increased verbal interaction


• Increased attention


• Reduced anxiety


• Increased vocabulary


• Improved memory

To find a professional that incorporates AAT into his/her practice, please visit www.petpartners.org/aatprofessionals.

Animal-Assisted Activities
Visiting animal programs are increasingly popular in hospitals, medical centers, nursing homes, schools and other facilities. Pet Partners registers appropriate pets with their owners as therapy animal teams after the “human end of the leash” passes a comprehensive training program and the team passes an evaluation performed by a licensed Pet Partners Team Evaluator.

In institutions where animals are not usually allowed, these visits provide a welcome respite for patients from painful treatments, loneliness and boredom. For children with learning disorders, the presence of a therapy animal can create a comfortable atmosphere where the children exhibit more confidence and readiness to learn.

Pet Partners is the only national therapy animal organization that registers species other than dogs with their owners to provide therapeutic visits to patients in hospitals, nursing homes, schools, etc. Cats, horses, guinea pigs and birds are some of the other animals that are welcome.

To learn more about Pet Partners visit www.petpartners.org or watch their promotional video...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BCXXxfVCA6Y&width=500&height=350&autoplay=0&rel=0

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The Feldenkrais Method: Movement in Mind

In a comfortable, airy room strewn with exercise mats, a Feldenkrais teacher guides her students verbally, as they move their bodies slowly and gently. She invites them to explore a sequence of easy movements, and then to rest, noticing whether one of their legs feels longer than the other. Then, she asks them to notice whether it feels easier when they turn toward the left, or the right. Each student pays attention to his or her own experience, tilting, turning, or gently lengthening an arm or a leg. These movements are extremely simple, but unlike most other forms of exercise, each movement is also packed with valuable neurological information. The movements in a Feldenkrais exercise are functionally based and meaningful, and provide the brain with a therapeutic opportunity in which it can assist the body. When the exercise is finished, the students stand up and walk around the room to explore how they are now feeling. Many will report feeling refreshed and capable, in ways they had long forgotten.

Across town, an 11 year old boy, who broke two ribs while playing sports six months ago, lies down, fully dressed on a low table for an individual Feldenkrais treatment. Though his ribs have technically “healed”, he complains that he can't breathe deeply the way he used to. The practitioner quietly uses gentle touch along the child’s spine to help him regain confidence in the flexibility and function of his entire upper torso. The practitioner does not focus on the youngster's injury, pathology, or diagnosis. Instead, he creates possibilities for improvement by facilitating a natural process of sensory motor learning in the child's brain. As the child takes his first deep breath in months, he smiles with relief.

The exercise class and the private session are two forms of a somatic therapy called the Feldenkrais Method. Offering abroad range of benefits for people of all ages and abilities, this unusual technique uses the power of the brain to help the body.

Often, necessity is the mother of invention. The Feldenkrais Method is one such case, created by a physicist and engineer named Moshe Feldenkrais when he lost the ability to use his legs after a series of
serious knee injuries. Determined to find a solution, he applied his understanding of physics, motor development, biomechanics, psychology, and martial arts, and not only restored his ability to walk,
but also developed the work for which he is known today. Over and over again, Feldenkrais found that given the right sort of opportunity, the brain can improve the body's comfort and function. Feldenkrais created exercises to help every part of the body, and devised a mode of hands on treatment rooted in the fact that when the brain is offered new options for our posture and movement, it will naturally choose better ones on our body's behalf. Simple movements done with basic home grown awareness, Feldenkrais discovered, are the best way to communicate effectively with the brain and nervous system.

Instead of focusing on symptoms, the Feldenkrais Method works by improving the body’s underlying neuromuscular and skeletal organization. Although we know that body and mind are exquisitely intertwined, few of us understand the profound connection between our habitual posture and our psychological habit patterns. We assume that we simply “are” the way we are, and while caught in a web of unconscious patterns, believe that we have only one way of doing things. What the Feldenkrais Method does, is to restore our sense of having options and choices. Georgetown University neuroscientist Karl Pribram once said, “Feldenkrais is not just pushing muscles around, but changing things in the brain itself.” With better muscular and skeletal organization, many aspects of our physical comfort and functioning can change and improve. By engaging the brain’s plasticity, or ability to change, Feldenkrais gives us an opportunity to change even our most engrained habits of posture and movement.

The Feldenkrais Method is available in two complimentary forms. The exercises, also called Awareness Through Movement lessons, are presented verbally to a group, or can be done independently at home. Feldenkrais treatment sessions, also called Functional Integration lessons, involve a hands on approach, as a practitioner individualizes the work. Both forms of the Feldenkrais Method are safe, enjoyable, and can be immediately effective.

As the Feldenkrais Method steadily gains recognition, people are increasingly turning to it for help with a wide range of issues. Some people use it to speed their recovery from injury, or because they wish
to avoid the physical limitations commonly associated with aging. Others use it to reduce tension, or to improve athletic abilities. It is being embraced by performing artists all over the world, by parents of
children with developmental issues, and people dealing with the aches caused by long days spent sitting in front of computer screens.

The famous anthropologist, Margaret Mead, once said that, “the Feldenkrais Method is the most sophisticated and effective method I have seen for the prevention and reversal of deterioration of function.” Well worth exploring, the Feldenkrais Method offers each person an opportunity in which they can experience their potential for improvement. Sometimes, all we need to do is remember what feeling better feels like.

If you would like to know more about this type of therapy, you may also be interested in How We Can Be More Effective Agents of Transformation and the Importance of Awareness Through Movement or any of the other articles available by David Zemach-Bersin.

Contributed by David Zemach-Bersin