My relationship with my augmentative alternative communication (aac) device is love/hate. I love that I have an alternative form of communication. I see so many people who have lost the ability to speak due to stroke or TBI (traumatic brain injury) and their communication is reduced to head nods or unintelligible sounds. They are so frustrated. And that single word doesn't begin to cover the myriad of emotions that one feels locked within their body. I hate the pace of the communication. It's molasses slow. Even the patience of a saint would be tried! Caregivers and family often forget that I need time to respond. That I'm not ignoring them. I hate that it is not more predictive. I remember how quick I could type and respond pre-illness. And this is painfully slower. Also hate how slow the processor is. For $22,000 one would think you would get a speedy little processor, predictive text, lots of storage, and MS Word, MS Outlook... I mean really!
I remember catching fireflies, putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field. That field was my...
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