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Staying patient and positive helps Laura Hemesath cope
with cerebral palsy
By Ann Passey
April 7, 2005 | Laura Hemesath wishes
she could trade bodies with you for just one day.
Hemesath has spastic cerebral palsy, or CP. She has
little control over her muscles, which causes them to
be very stiff. CP is caused by damage to the brain during
fetal development, birth, or shortly after birth. There
is no cure.
The symptoms never get worse; they never get better.
Things may change, but they will never improve.
If you think your life is hard, perhaps you are just
jaded by how easy it has been.
Hemesath needs help with nearly everything she does,
everything you take for granted.
She has an assistant with her 24 hours a day. There
are 10 women who rotate shifts to provide care around
the clock. In the morning certified nursing assistants
come to her apartment to help her get ready for the
day. In the shower she cannot stand, instead she is
supported by a bench. After her shower the CNA helps
her dry off, blow dry her hair, brush her teeth, and
move back into her wheelchair.
This is where she will spend the rest of her day. Hemesath
cannot raise her arms to feed herself. Every meal is
fed to her by an aide, starting with breakfast. Drinking
can be difficult, and a straw is always mandatory, said
Hemesath.
With everything it seems Hemesath cannot do, take a
look at what she can.
She moved out of her parents' home at 19. She
is now 30, and loves being independent.
"I would never go back," she said. "I
love living on my own, it's awesome!"
Her wheelchair grants her mobility. At an even 5 feet
tall and 120 pounds, Hemesath is dwarfed by her wheelchair.
It rises above her as she sits in it to support her
back and head. She has arm and leg rests to keep her
limbs comfortable. When you look it her, it's
almost as if she sits in a great black throne. She has
complete control of her wheelchair and often calls it
her "car."
With her hand tight in a fist she is able to grasp
the joystick-like steering wand. She steers with accuracy
and speed around her apartment, across streets and through
stores. She can turn corners and maneuver through doors.
She can even take on ice and snow, although she prefers
not to.
Rarely is there a day she stays at her apartment. Among
her favorite activities are bowling, shopping and skiing.
Skiing, she says, is quite the adventure. She goes
with the local group, Common Ground, at Powder Mountain.
She sits in a chair with supports all around her that
is attached to two skis. She holds tight to a rope,
while the person on skis in front of her pulls her down
the mountain. The person pulling has almost total control,
and Hemesath must trust them entirely.
"It is so much fun," said Hemesath. "It
was little bit scary the first time, but I love it."
Same with work. Since the day she moved out of her
parents' home she has had a job. Her first was at McKay
Dee Hospital in Ogden.
"If doctors or patients needed something, I would
take it to them," said Hemesath. "They would
put things on my lap, and I would get on the elevator
and take it to them."
She then worked at a nursing home.
"I talked to the people. I read them stories and
played games. Sometimes I just said hello. They didn't
have families that would come in to visit. They were
old and very sick, and I gave them someone to talk to.
They would talk to me about their families and how many
grandkids they had. I kept them company and gave them
something to look forward to."
For the past two years Hemesath has worked at Cache
Employment Training Center in Logan. Cache is a center
for people with disabilities. The range of people that
work there is broad; some people have physical disabilities
and are confined to wheelchairs, like Hemesath. Some
people have mental handicaps.
The program is designed to give people with disabilities
a place to spend their day. Some of them, if they are
able and want to, can work doing jobs like washing windows
and helping with recycling projects. Those that choose
not to, or are unable to, can go on field trips around
Cache Valley to learn more about their community or
work on craft projects. Hemesath typically falls into
the latter category, although twice a week she helps
with recycling.
"I love going to work," said Hemesath. "I
go every day. I love that I have something to do, and
it's something I like doing. I don't like staying home,
and this gives me a different activity to do everyday."
The hardest part about having CP for Hemesath, is how
people react.
"People make fun of me; they think I'm a dodo
bird because I'm in a wheelchair. They think I'm not
capable of things that I am. People won't talk to me,
or make eye contact with me. When they do talk to me,
they think I don't understand them, or that I'm only
12 years old."
Despite such frequent ignorance, Hemesath's patience
always prevails.
"I have never heard her complain," one of
her aides, Melissa Dent, said. "She is so sweet,
and kind to everyone. She says thank you for everything,
even when you don't realize you've done something for
her."
Hemesath says she has to be patient. The CP makes it
difficult for her to talk, and very difficult for people
to understand her. Often times she has to repeat things
three or four times, and that's for people who are accustomed
to listening to her.
As she talked to a visitor, she would often cock her
head back and laugh as she repeated things several times
for her.
CP can also be very painful.
"There is always constant pain," she said,
"but most of the time it's not too bad. When I
get tired, it hurts worse."
Asked to compare the constant pain to something, with
a straight face she said, "It's like getting hit
by a car. That's how bad it hurts."
And that's the pain that's not too bad. Hemesath takes
13 pills every day. She attends physical therapy weekly
and doctor visits every month. But some days she's not
sure it's all worth it.
"Some days I wish I could die tomorrow, and then
it would be over," said Hemesath. "Then I
would be perfect, with no pain. But I know that won't
happen, so I have to be as positive as I can while I'm
here.
MS
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