CEREBRAL PALSY - MY UNPREDICTABLE PERSONAL ASSISTANT

Cerebral Palsy: The World's Most Unpredictable Personal Assistant

Living with Cerebral Palsy is a lot like having a personal assistant who means well but is completely unqualified for the job.

Every morning, my brain wakes up with a plan.

My body, however, likes to hold a staff meeting first.

"Should we cooperate today?"

"Nah."

"Let's make her work for it."

And just like that, the adventure begins.

Most people think Cerebral Palsy is only about walking differently or having shaky hands. Those are certainly part of the package, but CP is really a collection of tiny surprises sprinkled throughout my day like confetti I never asked for.

Take getting dressed.

A normal person buttons a shirt.

I engage in hand-to-hand combat with a tiny piece of plastic that apparently trained for this moment its entire life.

The button wins more often than I'd like to admit.

Then there's makeup.

Every morning I approach mascara with the confidence of a beauty influencer and the coordination of someone riding a mechanical bull.

Will I stab myself in the eye?

Nobody knows.

It's all part of the excitement.

And let's talk about carrying drinks.

People without disabilities simply grab their coffee and walk away.

I perform a balancing act while silently negotiating with my right hand; sometimes outloud if I’m so inclined or extra frustrated that day.

"Please don't shake."

It shakes.

"Okay, maybe just a little."

It shakes harder.

I swear my coffee has spent more time on countertops than in my actual cup.

What's funny is that the things I struggle with aren't always the things people notice.

Strangers see my tremors and immediately assume I need help carrying things.

Meanwhile, the real challenge is opening a plastic produce bag at the grocery store.

Those things are apparently designed by NASA engineers.

I've raised two children, spoken on TEDx stages, managed projects, traveled across the country, and somehow convinced a man to marry me.

But separating one produce bag from another?

Impossible.

Another interesting thing about Cerebral Palsy is that stress has a way of turning my symptoms up to maximum volume.

The more nervous I get, the more my body decides to betray my brain; as if an invisible puppeteer is having a field day with my hands.

I've had people ask if I'm cold.

I've had people ask if I'm nervous.

I've had people ask if I've had too much caffeine.

One police officer once asked if I'd been drinking.

I hadn't.

I was simply existing.

The poor guy looked horrified when I explained I have Cerebral Palsy.

To be fair, if I saw myself trying to find my driver's license during a traffic stop, I'd probably have questions too.

The truth is, living with CP can be frustrating.

There are days when my body feels heavy.

Days when simple tasks take twice as long.

Days when I drop things, trip over nothing, or spend ten minutes trying to convince a zipper to cooperate.

But there are also days when those moments become stories.

And stories become laughter.

Humor has always been my favorite way to live with Cerebral Palsy.

Not because CP is funny.  But because life can be if looked through a different scope.

If I spent every day focusing on what my body doesn't do perfectly, I'd miss all the incredible things it does do.

It carried me from a Russian orphanage to America.

It helped me become a wife and mother.

It carried me onto stages where I've spoken to thousands of people.

It lets me advocate, educate, work, love, laugh, and show up every single day.

Sure, it occasionally throws a coffee across the room.

But honestly?

Nobody's perfect.

Not even my wildly unqualified personal assistant.