“Never been one to ask for help. Need a mountain moved, I moved it myself….”, are the first couple lines to one of my favorite country songs by Matt Stell. Asking for help is difficult. The last thing you want to do is to inconvenience or bother someone at the risk of setting yourself up for rejection or seeming selfish. The fear of asking is often worse than the act itself.
Fiercely independent growing up, I was determined to do things on my own. The last thing I wanted was help. Quickly, I learned that the stopwatch of life ran at a quicker pace than what I could keep up with. It makes me laugh, thinking back to the exorbitant time it took for me to put on my parochial school kneesocks. I could do it, but not if I wanted to be on time for school. The practicality of living with the physical challenge of CMT (Charcot Marie Tooth) often forced me to make a choice. Either independently continue the task at hand, by myself, running out of time to get to my desired goal or event. Or, ask for help. At a young age, I learned how to push my pride aside and master the art of asking for help. So why was this time so different?
This time was special. A unique opportunity to attend Neurokinetix; A Neurological Recovery Center came to my attention. Multiple therapies were offered, focusing on robotics and use of specialized equipment to treat many neuropathies including CMT. It was everything I wanted in a rehab, but didn’t know existed. The acceptance into this elite physical therapy program meant traveling to west Fort Worth three times a week. The problem was… It was in Fort Worth.
DPS vetoed the renewal of my drivers license due to a failed eye exam in 2015. Since then, my dad has kindly and patiently played the role of my North Dallas chauffeur. For this, I will be eternally grateful! But this Fort Worth trip would be just too far for me to ask him to drive Miss Daisy. I had to find another way.
Neurokinetix accepted me. They understood my transportation dilemma and stated that they would schedule me once I figured it out.
Investigating practical ways to get to my Cowtown destination led to dead-end roads. A wheelchair accessible taxi: too expensive. The Tarantula train: too impractical and time consuming. I explored fraternal service organizations, Knights of Columbus, and even my local fire department. Then, EUREKA! The perfect solution was located just a few miles away, at Addison Airport called Grace Flight. Grace Flight is a company that provides free medical transportation to longer distance medical appointments. Perfect! That was me! (Insert laugh here). I called them up and a very personable guy explained that a patient’s medical appointment must be a minimum of 120 miles away. Fort Worth was only 55 miles. So basically, I now lived too close to Fort Worth. He then proceeded to ask me if I was ambulatory because walking was a requirement for the plane ride. After rolling my eyes to myself, I thought if I could walk, I wouldn’t need the plane ride. Duh!
God’s whisper softly urged me to call on my friends. For weeks I turned a deaf ear, exploring other options. A plethora of excuses clouded my mind. People have jobs, families, and their own issues to deal with. Is it fair to ask them to pause their own lives, even though deep down, I knew they’d be happy to do so?
Running out of options, God’s whisper became louder and louder. Through all my uncomfortableness and uncertainty it repeated, “You’ll never know unless you ask.“ I knew if I was serious, I’d have to at least reach out. Once I initiated the step to call on my friends, every person resounded with an absolute,”YES!”
God is sooo good… and so are my friends! From my Aggie friends Liz, Anthony, Carla, and Chris, to cousin Jen from California, to trainer Bob, to John from Georgia: They were all lined up and ready to go from May until the end of June.
I eagerly placed a call to Neurokinetixs to announce that I was ready to start. But, the earliest they could schedule me was June 20, 2022. Soooo, I cooled my jets and waited patiently as my drivers remained in the wings.
On June 20th, my former trainer and dear friend, Bob, jumped in the saddle for my inaugural ride to Neurolinetix. I shared with him how immensely blessed I was feeling. He humbly reminded me that the gift of helping is not always exclusive to the one being helped, but also, for the helper. Bob said that helping me was not a single act of kindness, but a reciprocal one. He emphasized how giving increases endorphin levels and that his ability to aid in solving my dilemma made him feel as euphoric as I did having my problem solved.
To my core, I knew this to be true. As a teacher, I had seen it time after time with my 4th grade students. The spark in their eyes as they raced to be the first to pick up the pencil I dropped from my hand. The joy radiating from their smiling faces, holding the leash, as they walked my service dog, Temecula, out to recess. Or, the uncontainable, ear to ear grins as they carried my weighty, overstuffed book bag to my van after school. Simple tasks with the greatest lessons. Ones not taught in a textbook. My heart beamed with pride witnessing students gracefully lend me a hand as they fostered their innate need to cultivate compassion; a perpetual and integral life lesson, no matter one’s age.
Every day, I prayed God would provide that same child-like compassion for my potential Fort Worth drivers. People who considered this opportunity as a joy, not a burden. A handful of critics thought this was a hopeless feat. Some voiced it, others kept silent. On the logistics scale of difficulty and consistency, the reality of getting people to consistently commit to driving was off the charts. But I ignored the skeptics. Once again, I put my faith to the test, reminding myself daily of my favorite bible verse:
Hebrews 11:1, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for, and assurance in what we do not see.”
Once again, God brought the confidence I was hoping for into fruition. After reshuffling a few original drivers to accommodate schedules, the first week of riding with my volunteer chauffeurs not only went smoothly, it was better than I could’ve ever imagined! I am so grateful to trainer Bob Thorsell, cousin Jen Richard, and my dear Aggie friend Anthony Boner for successfully kicking off my new cowtown adventure at Neurokinetics. The question was… Could this degree of ease be maintained for three months, three days a week? Only with faith… Strides of faith!