I Just Couldn't Wait ...

When I think back on my life, truly it can be said thatmiracles do happen. I was born 3 months premature onApril 8th, 1962. I guess I was impatient to get started. Iwas in an incubator for six weeks before I could breathe on my own,and then in the premature nursery for an additional three months.Years later when I was old enough to understand, my mother woulddescribe the events of that day to me. At 9:30 pm on every birthday shewould say, "When you were born, you were so small, the priests gaveyou last rites twice. You were in an incubator for 3 months and finallybaptized at 6 months". If you were to talk to my parents they would saymy survival was due to medical science. However, if you were to talk tomy grandparents who are very religious, they would say it is because Iam a Sunday child and I am a miracle of God.

My childhood was happy, my mother did her utmost to see that myneeds were met and that I grew up as well adjusted as any other child.At around the age of two my parents realized that physically I was notdeveloping as quickly as my peers. When most children were crawling,climbing, standing, and getting into things, I had difficulty just sitting.They decided to have me evaluated to find out if there were any problemsand determine if anything could be done. I remember being taken tomany specialists who poked and prodded me without any explanation ofmy symptoms. Undaunted, my parents continued having me evaluateduntil I was finally diagnosed with cerebral palsy, a condition caused by anabnormality or disruption in brain development, usually due to prematurebirth. In my case my coordination, balance, and walking were affected. Aman of science for the first time gave my parents hope for the future andbecame a pivotal figure for me. His name was Dr. Monroe Schneider.

First, Dr. Schneider got me fitted for braces to assist me in walking.I remember them very well. They were brown, went up to my ankles andsqueaked when I walked. I was four years old when I first walked. Myfather and I went to visit my Nana in Queens. My father put me on hisshoulders as we went up the stairs to her apartment that always smelledof moth balls. My father asked if she wanted to see something that Icould do, he then asked me if I wanted to walk for her, and I said yes.At this point she left the kitchen for a few minutes and came back andsat down on a chair. She had in her hand a gold coin and she said to me,"Richard, if you walk to me, I will give this coin to you". My father wasbehind me, he didn't hold my hand but I could feel him. My eyes werefixed on my grandmother and all I wanted to do was show her what Icould do. This walk started tentatively, my first steps were unsure, but asI continued, my confidence got better and I could see my Nana's smile,she was so happy. I remember the hug she gave me; I felt so much lovefrom her. I still have that gold coin.

I have many such pleasant memories of my childhood. I remembermy father's Pontiac Sky Chief four-door car. I loved that car; it wasbrown and white with a beige interior. It had leather seats and I canremember being with my father, playing with the radio and the leatherbuttons on the seats. He used to let me sit on his lap and let me steerthe car. I thought I was driving, but my legs were too short to touch thepedals. My father and I spent a lot of time driving in this car, particularlywhen I began physical therapy. I would have to go to Brooklyn weeklyto learn how to sit up and then walk. On one such excursion, my fatherlooked at the car next to ours and told me that it was Sandy Kofax, thepitcher for the Dodgers. I remember waving and smiling at him. Ofcourse my favorite baseball player was Mickey Mantle who played forthe New York Yankees. My father liked the Yankees so, of course, Iliked them too.

I really didn't like going to Brooklyn. Not only would I need tobe evaluated for an extended period of time by the doctor, but my legswould be stretched in positions that hurt. I remember being examinedby numerous doctors who would give their opinions on what the mostappropriate treatment would be. I felt very popular and special as I sat ona table wearing a hospital gown and Dr. Schneider would introduce meto the various physicians. We did this for about two years every coupleof months, and after that time, Dr. Schneider met with my parents todiscuss my first set of corrective surgeries. I remember it was aroundHalloween in October, the leaves were changing colors. My motherexplained to me that one day I would be going to the hospital for alittle while because I would be having an operation to help me walk.Dr. Schneider would be there and he would be the one who would helpme. I felt good about this, because I liked Dr. Schneider and I knew hecared and wouldn't hurt me. I used to love to go and see him. He wouldcome into the examining room always with a smile, dressed in a whitelab coat and always had on a bow tie.

The night before my surgery, an orderly came to shave my legs. Ithought this was very strange and wondered why he was doing this.The following morning Miss Bailey came to me and said I was going tohave a wonderful journey. First they would take me to a room and puta mask on my face and ask me to breathe in and out. This would takeme to a magical place, I would have wonderful dreams, then I wouldwake up and be back in my bed again, and the surgery would be over.She said when I was allowed to eat again she would bring me CaptainCrunch cereal because I told her it was my favorite. Next, they put me ona stretcher with squeaky wheels. I couldn't see anyone but I rememberlooking at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling as they passed over myhead. I remember counting to myself, I think I got to 25. Then suddenly,these big doors opened and there was a strong antiseptic smell in a hugeroom. The people around me were dressed in funny green uniforms andlooked like Martian's. I then heard Dr. Schneider's familiar voice. Icouldn't see his face because it was covered with a green mask but I couldsee his big eyes. I was a little frightened but remember being reassuredbecause Dr. Schneider was there.

I asked if I could hold his hand and remember squeezing it tightas they placed the mask over my face. I drifted off to sleep and recallhaving a dream. I felt as if I was floating in the air and as I looked down,I saw a group of people standing over a body. I felt as if my back waspressing against the ceiling of the room and at a closer look I saw tomy amazement that the person lying on the operating table was me! Iremember passing through the ceiling and floating in the clouds. NextI was in a boat, it was hot and humid, I could hear wild animals (birdsand monkeys), and also the sound of drums. The boat started moving,straight down the river, with no oars to steer it. I was heading towarda brilliant white light. I became engulfed in this white light. I met thislarge figure that I had seen in dreams before. He was at least sevenfeet tall, dressed in a black silk robe with diamond buttons down thefront. I noticed that he had long fingers and delicate hands. I couldn'tsee his face but I knew he was wearing some type of headdress becausethere was a huge diamond in the middle of it. The only thing I couldsee were his warm eyes. We had become acquainted years before whenI was about 2 years of age and would wake up in the middle of thenight to see this figure standing at the foot of my bed, looking straightat me. I knew he was a safe presence and he was there to assist me. Ican't explain it, not even out loud to myself, but he brought on a senseof peace that was undeniable. There were other times when I wouldawake and the same regal native American would be sitting on my bedin full headdress stroking the nape of my neck. I remember reflectingon the dream and wondering what it meant. It was around the time thatI turned 6, coincidentally, when I began grade school that the visionshad ceased. It may sound strange, but when I realized I was no longergoing to see him, I had felt a sense of loss. It wasn't until later on inmy adult life, when I had begun studying metaphysics that I started tolearn the importance of these dreams, which I will explore a little later.

I didn't realize it at the time, but the experience in the hospital,although lonely, was the beginning of my assimilation into society. WithDr. Schneider's assistance, I would be given the ambulatory skills thatwould be essential for me to survive and experience my environmentthrough my senses. Up until this time, my parents, specifically mymother, were my link to the outside world. I couldn't venture forth andexperience the world on my own, so my mother brought the world tome. Most of the time I looked out the window and listened to WABCon a transistor radio my mother had given me. I remember waking upin the morning and thinking "I can't wait till mommy gets here." Mymother would usually arrive at the hospital around 11am. She wouldbring food with her from home. Sometimes fried chicken or homemadesoup from my Oma. If I was really lucky, she would get me a hamburgerfrom the diner across the street from the hospital. The other fringebenefit of being at the hospital was that I became quite popular. All myrelatives came to see me, and I usually got a small gift everyday—it feltlike Christmas! However, I hated being in that bed, it was too hard,made my rear end numb, and I was unable to sleep at night. When Icouldn't sleep, I would try to amuse myself with a flashlight gun myfather bought me. I would shine it across the room over the other kidsheads in the children's ward where I was staying. Too bad I didn'tunderstand that I was waking everyone up each night I became bored.

Eventually my stay at the hospital came to an end, it was time togo home, and that made me very happy. While I was saying goodbyeto the other kids, I started to feel bad as some of them weren't going toleave because they had no families. It turns out that some families wouldabandon their children to be cared for by the state because their familiesdid not want to care for a child with CP. To this day, it still saddens meto think of those children. Thankfully I was not one of those statistics.After being in the hospital recovering for four weeks, my parents cameto take me home. My father carried me out in his strong arms as I saidgoodbye to everyone who helped me. I remember hoping that I wouldnever see that place again.

Once I came home I had to deal with a whole new set of problems.I was confined in a half body cast, I couldn't sit up, mostly laying flat onmy back or on my stomach. For a young child, it was absolute torture!The cast itched terribly, but my mother came up with a creative remedyfor this—she would take the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner, stick it downmy cast, and the sucking action of the vacuum relieved my itch!

After weeks of being in the casts, my grandfather drove my motherand I to the hospital to get them removed. Dr. Schneider came into theroom with an electric saw that he explained he would have to use toremove the casts. The saw was silver, had a small round circular blade,and made a loud noise when turned on. When he placed it on mycast, my entire leg started to vibrate. I heard and felt the saw cuttingthrough the plaster and felt the warmth of the blade against my leg. Ikept thinking he would make a mistake, slip and cut my leg off. Tryexplaining to a 4 year old that you won't cut his leg off as you saw offhis leg cast! It made me very uncomfortable and I began to cry. Heimmediately stopped and reassured me that it wouldn't cut my leg. But,I was stubborn and wouldn't listen. After persuasion didn't work on me,Dr. Schneider removed the casts with a pair of pliers.

Dr. Schneider reassured me and said that once I started movingagain my legs would feel better. My new challenge was to walk usingcrutches. I had only worn braces up until now but it was time to switchto crutches, how is this going to work? I was excited about this prospectbecause I hated the braces. First of all they were ugly, the shoes werebrown, and were up to my ankle. Having had the surgery, I could nowget different shoes; I had always wanted a pair of hush puppies. Aphysical therapist would come to the house once a week to teach mehow to walk with the crutches. I remember her very well, her name wasMrs. Hanson, and she was very pretty with long straight dark brownhair that went down past her shoulders.

The first time she came over my house, she came directly from thehospital and was wearing a white uniform that made me somewhat shy.After spending so much time in a hospital, it was a little intimidating tohave a nurse in my own home. Thankfully she must have caught on tomy discomfort and gratefully understood my reservations, as she neverwore her uniform again to the house. Mrs. Hanson taught me howto crawl, which I had never done before. She taught me how to sit upwithout using pillows to prop me. I remember the first time I kneeleddown, it felt weird like I was going to fall over, and I didn't like it verymuch. The most important thing she taught me, however, was to fall.We used to practice this and she taught me that I should not be afraid.When I felt myself going down, I should put my hands out to protectme. By being relaxed, I would not hurt myself.

After about two months, I was able to walk fairly well with thecrutches and felt a sense of freedom that I had never felt before. For thefirst time in my life, I was exploring my environment on my own. Nowthat I had mastered this, I was ready to return to Mrs. Levitt's class. Iremember her as a very gentle person who always had a smile for me andtaught me a few things that I will never forget. You see, I could neverwrite my name. I always had problems writing the letter C. I used tomake it like a capital E and leave the middle line out so it looked likea capital C with corners on it. Anyway, Mrs. Levitt noticed this andshe would write the letters of my name in big dots and tell me to tracethem with a pencil. Because I enjoyed doing this, I didn't realize that Iwas really learning how to shape the letters with my hand and controlthe pencil with my fingers. One day she gave me a piece of blank redconstruction paper (my favorite color at that time) and she asked me towrite my name without the help of the dotted letters. I said I wasn'tsure if I could but on her insistence, I tried, and really surprised myselfbecause I was able to write my name with a round C. I was so proud ofmyself and so was she.

I could never put my jacket on by myself mainly because my armswere too stiff and I couldn't bend my elbows behind me. Because of this,someone always had to help me. One day, Mrs. Levitt brought my jacketand I thought she would assist me to put it on. Instead, she said "todayyou will learn how to put it on by yourself". First she told me to put myjacket on the table, place my hands in the sleeves, and flip it over myhead. After I did this, she said, "you see Richard, you put your jacketon all by yourself, aren't you proud"? You know I still flip my jacket onthe same way today! I will always remember Mrs. Levitt fondly. Shewas one of the first people in my life who assisted me in many smallways whenever I was afraid, and made me see what I could accomplishwhen I was gently encouraged.

Growing up, I was comfortable at the Cerebral Palsy (C.P.) center inQueens because I was just like everyone else although there were somekids that were physically less capable than I was. I remember playinghouse with Helen and Suzy, my first `crushes'; Helen would always bemy wife and Suzy would be my daughter. I remember being thrilledthat I got to dress as a Russian cosmonaut for the Halloween costumeparty—Russian cosmonauts were on the nightly news then so it waspretty cool! There was also the time I was asked to play Chicken Littlein the kindergarten play as I had the loudest voice. I had a good timeand if I forgot my lines, the speech teacher was hiding behind the pianoon stage ready to help me out.