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The Beat Goes On To say the least there have been a lot of changes in my lifetime. Things have changed greatly for me since I arrived here a little more than five years ago. I arrived, a vagabond child under less than sterling circumstances, which I'm sure you've already concluded..
On arrival my new foster family consisted of Paul, his adopted teenage son, and myself. My foster brother welcomed me as though I had always been part of the family. He was just completing High School, which made him seem terribly old at the time. Paul worked during the day, which left my older brother in charge of the house and by default in charge of me. We live outside town on a little more than ten acres, part of a farm where our next door neighbor leases the remainder. Lots of space to explore and plenty of room for active kids to "blow the stink off". Its a foster home, ergo kids come and go so there are always new faces around.
It did not take long for my wetting to become an issue, several accidents a day, added to the accidents at night, took a toll on the laundry and kept my older brother busy making sure I had changed. Paul made an appointment with the doctor to see if they could find out what was causing the problems. Unlike my previous foster placements, he didn't merely assume it was laziness, or stupidity, on my part.
The doctor did all the routine tests, took samples of everything, poked, prodded, listened and came to the conclusion it was either "slow development', or enuresis which I would outgrow eventually. We were surprised a few days later when the doctor called asking if we could return for additional tests. Something had come up while they were doing the blood work, it was actually a medical tech who stumbled on the theory the doctor wanted to pursue.
The med tech noticed an anomaly, suggesting there were hidden allergies which hadn't been considered before. A single notation in my medical records indicated I was allergic to a specific over the counter medication, although in its generic form there were no problems. What we eventually discovered, after exhaustive testing; I'm allergic to several ingredients normally used in processed foods, most notably dyes and certain imitation flavorings. For reasons still unexplained, rather than having a normal reaction to the allergens, my reactions center around my bladder. In effect I wet when my bladder 'sneezes', suddenly releasing my sphincter without warning. There are no known cures; ergo it became a matter of managing the problem, using protection to keep my accidents from being quite so public.
We had several options to discuss when it came to protection understanding I was no longer an infant or toddler. I was small for my age which proved to be an advantage, however there was, and is, a social stigma attached to a child who needs protection. Our first foray into the world of child sized protective garments soon disclosed there were few if any products available on the open market designed for children as opposed to infants.
With some assistance from the clerk, the available options were soon narrowed to a choice of reusable garments or disposables. We ended up with a package of extra large disposable diapers which I wasn't exactly happy about being ten. My foster dad was reasonably descrete allowing me to wait just outside while he made the purchase. With 28 in the package, we assumed it would last at least several days if not a week or more. It was soon obvious using disposables on a full time basis was going to be costly, which prompted us to replace them with reusable cloth diapers and plastic pants. Using diapers at home wasn't a problem, we were isolated enough few people knew I was back in diapers. My older brother would change me when necessary, turning the process over to my foster dad when he got home from work.
Protection soon became an issue with the local school district. I had been enrolled in the local public school when I arrived, so my wetting accidents were not unknown to the school. In most cases when I had an accident I was either required to remain in my seat until my pants somewhat dried, or I was sent to the office on those occasions it was more than just a little accident. The school was informed we had discovered there was a specific medical reason requiring me to use protection. I was in fourth grade, theoretically old enough to take care of the problem myself when I needed to change. The school demanded we use disposables since there was no place available to store my used garments. The second problem was finding someplace I could change descretely. We finally opted to use the Nurse's Office which at least had a screen I could go behind. We kept a package of pull on disposables at school so I didn't have to carry them with me each day. The problem appeared to be solved at that point.
Everything went fine for about two weeks, I'd slip into the office, make a quick change and go on about my business. There were some occasions the pants leaked, leaving me with wet jeans and there was some concern about me having to completely remove my jeans to change. Central administration discovered our arrangements which had been made at the school level. Unfortunately buried in the policy books there was a clause which specifically addressed procedures to be used with "special needs" children who required protection. Although we argued the finer points, the bottom line was using disposable diapers and having the aide assigned to the self-contained classroom change me. We were not thrilled by the idea but there was nothing we could do about it thus I became the responsibility of the aide when changes were necessary.
At home diapers weren't really an issue, just a management tool we were using to keep me as dry and comfortable as possible. When there were others present I simply wore my jeans, or shorts, which hid the diapers relatively well. Unless there was some particular reason for me to wear my jeans, it was easier to have me run around the house in just a diaper and plastic pants. It soon became routine, nothing unusual which is exactly as it should be. I still use protection.
It has always been a little unusual living here. How do you go about describing what its like to live with an angel. I'm not talking about one with a halo and wings (at least not visible) my angel guides me each and every day. One of the first, and finest, lessons I learned living here was HUG DON'T HIT. I was so used to being hit, spanked, kicked, beaten for things, I shied away from any adult, male or female. Stay out of reach, nobody can hurt you. My foster dad gave me the space I needed to get comfortable around him, openly hugging my foster brother, always asking how my day had been with genuine concern. It didn't take long for me to get used to the idea he would gently put his arms around me and hug, even if he was angry with me over something I'd done. In the five years I've lived here my Da has never raised his hand against me in anger.
I need to jump forward here so you can better understand where I am today. I had been a foster child here slightly more than a year when Paul petitioned the Court to adopt me. Fortunately the Court saw the ultimate wisdom of allowing Paul to adopt me, there weren't a lot of people standing in line to give me a permanent home. To be brutally honest not a lot of families will accept an older child, who happens to be enuretic, allergic, or gay. I'm all three, yet my Da adopted me anyway, it wasn't an issue - the issue was and is, LOVE on a grand scale.
Before I go any further let me assure you my Da has always put my best interest first and foremost. Although he is not gay, he accepts that I am, and supports me in developing all aspects of my life.
He was the first to recognize I was gifted instead of the class dummy everyone expected. After reviewing my achedemic records he had me tested, since my demonstrated abilities far outstripped the opinions reflected in the records. I've been in some form of enriched educational environment since. (I graduated High School in June 1999 at the age of 15) He has consistantly provided me the guidence I needed to achieve my goals, supported me through the myriad changes of puberty and given me the freedom to make my own choices. He's a disciplinarian, expects me to toe the mark, for which he allows me a great deal more freedom than other kids my age.
In our house there are five R's: reading, 'riting, 'rithmetic, responsibility and respect. I"ve never had much problem with the first three (***grins***) the later two Da has taught me with diligence and patience. As I've said, my Da gives me a lot of freedom, yet at the same time expects me to be responsible. In the matter of respect, we earn what we give, in that respect, is a two way street. (Even people familiar with us, are taken aback when the phone is answered, "B***n residence, Bear speaking Sir".)
My Da has taught me a great deal about life, how to navigate the rocky shoals of daily living, and as importantly how to deal with the past. We communicate, which is unusual in today's world. We openly talk about things, explore different aspects of a topic to determine the best way to deal with it. We talk about feelings, how they effect the way we deal with ourselves and others. We discuss current events, what is happening in the world around us and how it may effect us. We use each other as a sounding board for ideas, one as often as not playing 'devil's advocate'.
My friends are often stunned by the open expression of acceptance, since unlike too many households we hug here. Hugs are an important part of our day, given and received openly without embarrassment. It grieves me to know there are so many fathers in the world who don't hug their sons, give them that small moment of love and acceptance. Our day begins and ends with a hug, regardless what has happened in between. Even in matters of discipline we get a hug to say, "its your behavior thats wrong, not you". Da taught me to accept people for who they are, not their position, or what they may possess.
Each day of our lives we greet new adventures. Some will be small, others something to remember the rest of our lives. I used to believe the theory..Same sh## Different day ~ What I've come to understand is that each day will expand our horizons, add to the knowledge we store, make our life richer. I once thought to find anything new you had to go to new places until a very wise man taught me: "The secret of discovery is not finding new places, but in seeing with new eyes." In my lifetime I have seen many places, visited places I never dreamed of, saw things I didn't know existed. The greatest adventure of my life began when my Da sat down beside a very frightened, very little boy and simply gave me a hug.
To truly describe what it is like living in a family like ours would take volumes. I love my Da, respect him and care about him. In return I have a lot of freedom most guys my age covet. The most precious gift my Da has ever given me was the knowledge he cares. I don't always agree with him, I often argue a point vehemently with him, but in the end there is always a decision and a hug. If there was any one piece of advice I'd give any family it would have to be HUG DON'T HIT.
Almost three years ago there was another addition to the family, another little boy who has become my baby brother being adopted as well. Tiger is five years younger than I am, quite a spread in some respects, a fleeting moment in others. While I must admit there are times I'd like to trade him in on a new model, the vast majority of the time he's loved and cherished. I guess you could say I was a typical big brother in that if anyone is going to give Tiger a hard way to go it's my prerogative. On some necessary occasions his friends have discovered I am in deed a BEAR. Quite simply people can mess with me all they want to, but don't even think about messing with Tiger, he's MY little brother.
Yes we are indeed an unusual family, blended many different ways from many different aspects. The most important aspect is that we ARE a FAMILY, and no matter what we'll always find a reason for one more HUG.
Today I live in a very different world, a world of adventure I never dreamt possible. I'm a full time student at OSU, studying toward my life's dream. One day I will be a lawyer to champion children's rights, see that this nation truly defends its most important natural resource - its young. I've seen the dark side of life, survived the terror and pain, my Quest is to champion a world where no child lives in fear or want. To that end I'll Challenge each of you, who read my pages, to first of all understand ....In all dealings with a child, a HUG is the most powerful tool at your disposal.A few days ago I turned 16, the adventure is well begun: the beat goes on...........
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