Cerebral Palsy Is Scary. But Does It Make Me Stubborn?
By: Michael Murray
Tags: Disability, Life Lessons, Life, Self, This Happened To Me

Cerebral Palsy Is Scary. But Does It Make Me Stubborn?

The inability to do small things can lead to big frustration.

Photo by Echo Grid on Unsplash

“Just leave it, and I’ll do it when we stop,” said my wife, Diana.

“No,” I said as I continued struggling to plug the aux cord into my iPad. “I did this before, and I can do it again!”

We were on a 5-hour road trip to visit family. Because I have cerebral palsy (CP for short), Diana has to do all the driving. I sit in the passenger seat and try to keep the ride upbeat and entertaining.

On this day, I did the opposite.

I brought along my iPad so we can listen to music I’ve downloaded. About an hour into the ride, I ask Diana if she wants to listen to something. She says sure, and I take the iPad out of its bag. Our car isn’t set up for Bluetooth, so we use an auxiliary cord to connect the iPad to the radio.

Diana plugs one end of the aux cord into the car radio port. But since she’s driving, she can’t connect the other end into the iPad port. No problem. I’ve done it plenty of times before. It usually takes me a couple of tries, but I get it.

I place the iPad between my legs and grab hold of the cord. I attempt to plug it in, but I keep missing. My hand is shaking too much. And I’m becoming more agitated.

Cerebral palsy makes it hard to hide emotions.

My CP makes me have involuntary movements, such as shaking and twitching. Despite this, I usually have pretty good control over my body, so I don’t think about it too much. But when I experience intense emotions — nervousness, frustration, fear — my body responds by shaking more.

Typical people may be able to hide these emotions behind a relaxed demeanor. I can’t. My CP sets off a warning bell for all to see.

Here’s the thing. I know when my body is losing control. In these moments, I know that the best thing I can do is take a couple of deep breaths to reset my system. And that’s what Diana tells me to do.

“I’ll plug it in when we stop to get food,” she says.

Sounds reasonable. I’m not in a reasonable mood.

I continue trying to plug it in, but now the cord is completely missing the port. My body is flailing in frustration. And I’m having a full-on argument with the wire.

“Come on, you stupid thing! Get in there!”

Then I notice something. The tip of the cord has bent to about a 45-degree angle.

“Ahhhh!” I cry out. “Great. Now it’s bent!” (Notice I refused to say I was the one who bent it.)

Diana is the sweetest, most patient woman you’ll ever meet.

Really, it takes a lot to get her upset. If she tells me to stop doing something, it’s not because she thinks I’m incapable. It’s because she doesn’t want a minor problem to turn into a bigger one.

She continues to tell me that it’s not a big deal. We don’t have to listen to music right now. When we stop, she’ll try to bend it back into place.

But I persist. I’m going to show this cord who’s boss. I continue trying to plug it in, which I know is a dumb thing to do since it’s already bent. I know I’m being completely irrational.

But then, I do it.

I violently jam the cord into the port. And it goes in.

Ha! Success! Victory! I am vindicated!

And a second later, the cord snaps and breaks, leaving the tip stuck inside the iPad. I look over at Diana, feeling like a fool. This is what she thought might happen.