Yeah, I’m not an IT person but when I first left the Army the internet wasn’t quite as mature as it is now (although it wasn’t dial-up/AOL days either) and every job interview I took I researched the hell out of the person(s) I’d be interviewing with. Any recruiter that called me I looked them up, too. You’d be shocked at how much I found online about some of these people. Some I found nothing at all, like they didn’t exist. With recruiters it was good to look into them because some recruiters have bad reputations (match candidates with jobs they aren’t qualified for, lie to candidates about the job etc) and if I saw anything like that online I wouldn’t deal with that person. Now I wasn’t looking so much for personal info per se but yeah, if I found some (and I did) I’d read about it just out of curiosity.
But yeah, I think you are absolutely right to not want to link your SDMB presence to your presence in the “real” world. I’m a businessman in the real world and to be honest there’s lots of things I’ve talked about here I would not want getting spread around about me in the real world, so I’ve always kept enough of a division between my account here and anything to do with the “real” me in the internet so that no one can connect the dots.
Interesting. I have to say - if I had a quadriplegic friend, I’d be very nearly terrified of touching him/her, for fear of messing up some important posture or bit of gear on the chair.
Oh I understand, thank you for your detailed explanation. I guess my issue is with my dumb-ass: I have no idea what “tech recruiting” even is. So I guess I was hoping for an expansion on that. But I understand your hesitancy.
For one, I have never been able to watch “Born on the Fourth of July” all the way through, even having tried multiple times. It’s just too sad. Not the part about him landing in the wheelchair, but just how horribly off-track it takes his life for what? A decade? Painful. Also, I feel like the only similarity between his life and mine is that neither of us can walk. Beyond that, it seems impertinent for me to judge the veracity of the portrayal of a Vietman-era paraplegic veteran. I honestly don’t know how true-to-life that movie was.
As for Lieutenant Dan, again, I can’t speak to the life experiences of a Vietnam-era double amputee. There’s very little commonality in our lives. I will say that it was so nice to see his character arch into the positive by the end of the film, showing that a disability is not a death sentence.
[Side-note: 60 Minutes did a profile of Gary Sinise a couple weeks ago. Apparently a big part of his life these days is doing benefit shows around the country for disabled veterans returning from the war in Afghanistan. His band’s name? “The Lieutenant Dan Band,” of course).
What you’re expressing isn’t only your opinion. It’s fact. People paralyzed in accidents generally bounce back to near-normal levels of happiness. Though they may be, on average, slightly less happy than a typical able-bodied person, they are much happier than an AB person with depression. As you say, people are surprising, and the will to live (if properly supported) is very, very strong.
I’m not. When I was AB, I was much too busy running around to be bothered to try out video games (aside from a little bit of NES). So I missed that crucial window in childhood when you get hooked.
But if you’re wondering, there are lots and lots of ways that quads like me can play video games, if that’s their cup o’ tea.
Well, it’s important to point out that I don’t want rand-o strangers touching me, and of course I’d get annoyed if some water buffalo of a friend mauled me and clumsily knocked my joystick out of my reach and walked away, effectively stranding me. But, a friend putting a hand on my knee when I’ve said something funny, picking up my hand when greeting me, or giving me a big hug when we part? I love that stuff.
But it’s good for me to remember, like you’ve said, that someone might just be worried they’re going to set off an alarm or something if they touch me. :eek: I always assume that people don’t want to touch where I have no feeling because it’s weird for them. Or that it’s a “why bother touching her if she can’t feel it?” thing, which is sad for me.
Of course, if you ever make a quadriplegic friend (highly recommended :)), you’ll want to find out what his/her feeling are on this, and not just assume my position is universal.
Ok, this has been on my mind since you described the cheesy 70s sex video you were privileged to watch (with mom in the room!) as what I guess was the best effort to have the quad version of “The Talk.” Obviously it didn’t resonate with you as the best way to broach the subject.
How should it be done?
That is, knowing what you’ve seen that wasn’t the right answer, what’s the best way to introduce a newly spinal cord injured person to the delicate subject of cherchez la femme? (Or, I guess, cherchez le homme in your case, assuming I haven’t mangled the French too badly).
Just saying that I appreciate your caution, umkay. There was a situation not too long ago where a poster went overboard with TMI threads, and it got very ugly quickly. As much as I love the Dope (seven years up in this bitch!) I still try to maintain a modicum of privacy. Not that I’m paranoid; I just don’t like all of my business out there.
Someone could easily figure out who I am - I work for a public entity, my work is visible, etc. But I’d like to maintain some measure of anonymity and privacy. In my research, I’m often responsible for ensuring that participants are protected in this way so I guess I have a sensitivity about these issues.
You’ve done an awesome job of fighting ignorance as well as demonstrating that it’s possible to maintain a level of privacy and self respect, IMHO. A lot of folks could learn a lot from how you’ve conducted yourself in this thread.
I’ve known too many people who are disabled to fear it as much as the average able-bodied person. This can really freak people out. What? You don’t think you’d kill yourself if you were blind/deaf/paralyzed? Um… no, actually not. Too many things to still experience and do. Deaf? Can still fly airplanes, plant a garden, read books… Blind? Listen to music, learn braille and read (I loathe audiobooks), talk to people, make things, play piano. Paralyzed? Movies, books, etc. There is still so much to do even if you can’t do everything everyone else can.
I think the most upsetting thing to me would be to lose my hands. This surprises people who imagine being blind is the worst thing but I’ve known too many busy, employed, happy, productive blind people to believe that. It’s a hell of an inconvenience and not something I’d want but I know I could adapt. Losing my hands? Hands are so damn useful! I do things with my hands constantly. I fix things for a living. I make stuff for fun.
Did umkay say she’d rather have use of her hands back than being able to walk?
Hope I wasn’t being too forward or inapproptriate with that weak attempt to break the ice, umkay. We’ve only just met.
I’d like to ask another question for our continued collective enlightenment (or maybe just mine). You’ve mentioned several times how criticial it is to regulate and control your body temperature, your not being able to perspire when it’s hot or shiver when it’s cold. Especially critical when you’re in the water swimming, and when when you’re ready to SCUBA. How do you regulate and check and control your temp? Do your carers occassionally touch you to check your skin temp, much like I used to touch my kids’ foreheads to see if they’ve got a fever? Or do they check with a thermometer? How is it managed? And, do you ever run a temp/fever?
On Facebook saw someone “liked” snowboarding, instantly thought of you. BTW, in middle school, a well known kid in town died after a diving accident in Mexico. A year later talking a friend of his, I mentioned I would’ve wanted to live, she contended he’d never want to live like that.
