Ready Yet?

(picture courtesy of AFP/Getty Images)

When the tragedy of September 11th occurred, I immediately started thinking about disaster planning for my family. When Hurricane Katrina struck, I again started thinking about disaster planning. Today, after the events in Japan, I am still thinking and still not doing.

I’ve asked myself what would I do if the disaster struck while my children and I were separated – me at work, them at school for instance. How would the schools handle things, and how would I get reunited with my children?

I remember on September 11th that I felt compelled to leave work, and rush to the sides of my children. I knew I would just feel better if they were all with me, not spread around three different school buildings. A similar condition still exists today – my five children are in three different schools. How, and in what order would I go to get them, if I even could get to them? How would they all handle the waiting for me, or worse, how would they handle being injured? Could I depend on the school staff to comfort my children and make sure they were as safe as possible? Unfortunately, I think the answer to that question, at least for my three children with disabilities, is NO.

In two of the three schools attended by my children, the teachers of children labeled with severe disabilities are advised not to take their kids outside for fire drills. So, how will the teachers and the students know when the loud buzzer is signaling a drill or an actual event? The cynical me thinks the disaster plan for children with disabilities is to sacrifice them in favor of getting the non-disabled to a safe place.

But what if I was at home with my children when a disaster struck. I asked myself do I have a disaster plan in place, and especially one that addresses the significant needs of my children with disabilities? The answer is no, unless you count the jumbled list of thoughts in my head a disaster plan. So, while I am questioning and suggesting and demanding that my school system develop a comprehensive disaster plan, I need to do the same thing myself at home.

It’s been almost ten years since the September 11th attacks, and still I have done nothing to prepare myself and my family for a disaster. Perhaps the events in Japan will be the impetus I need. I certainly hope so.

After googling a bit, I found some good resources to help me down that path. They are listed below and I suggest everyone, especially families who have family members with special needs, take the time to review them. (Due to high traffic related to the Japan disaster, the Red Cross site may be down intermittently.)

• Red Cross Disaster Preparedness for People with Disabilities


• FEMA - Preparing for a Disaster / People with Special Needs


• Ready America for People with Special Needs


• DisabilityInfo.Gov - Emergency Preparedness

Too Good To Be True

Just last week I wrote about Microsoft's new gaming system that would recognize sign language. Having two deaf children, I was extremely excited about that, and quite impressed that a company like Microsoft was keeping the needs of its customers with disabilities in mind. It sounded almost too good to be true - and apparently it was.

The mention of American Sign Language (ASL) support in Microsoft’s Kinect patent raised hopes that the motion-gaming add on might be useful for more than just interacting with virtual children or swordfighting without swords; unfortunately, Microsoft has confirmed Kinect won’t actually ship with ASL functionality. The reason? Microsoft downgraded Kinect’s video hardware capabilities.

While Kinect will ship with webcams capable of 320 x 240, Microsoft apparently planned the cameras to support over twice that resolution. That would have allowed the system to recognize not just limbs but individual fingers, hence the ASL support.

Unfortunately, in trying to cut costs, hit a $150 street price and still maintain a decent profit margin, Microsoft supposedly opted to use cheaper, less capable cameras, which can only recognize limbs. They also offloaded some of Kinect’s processing from the camera-bar itself to the Xbox 360 console itself. Microsoft hasn’t confirmed this is all true, but if so it suggests the first-gen hardware will never be able to support ASL.

You haev disappointed me, Microsoft, really disappointed me....

Is There a Right Answer?

I'm curious to know how others feel about this.

Abbie Dorn always wanted children, and in June 2006 she got her wish -- triplets. But during a difficult birth she suffered severe brain damage that took away her chance to raise them.

Now, her parents and former husband are locked in a legal battle over whether Dorn is capable of interacting with her children, and whether they should visit her.

The full text of the article can be found here.

Should Abbie be able to visit with her children? Would it be too traumatic for them? If not now, when should they be allowed to visit? Do you feel her husband is being cruel, or are her parents being unrealistic?

Whatever else you may feel, I think we can all agree that what happened to Abbie during her delivery is very sad...

Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow

What little bit of hearing my dear Ashley had is starting to deteriorate. Two years ago, the audiologist recorded a profound loss in her right ear and a severe loss in her left. But, she could still hear loud noises, and seemed to hear the voices of some people, people I think whose tone and cadence she had become accustomed to.

She’s always relied a lot on Tadoma, and if a person will get close enough to her, she can also read lips a little. But recently, I’m noticing that she is missing things she used to be able to hear. And the worst thing of all, the few words that she could almost say are now nearly unrecognizable.

I can’t remember the last time I heard ‘Gip’, her way of saying her brother’s name, Chip. ‘Hi’ - or her version ‘HUH’ - is seldom uttered anymore, although we do still hear ‘Bye’ pretty clearly. She also will still say ‘Oooh Mae’, her way of saying her dear aide’s name Amy.

But the saddest loss? I’m not hearing ‘Mom Mom’ very often, and her ‘I lu’ for ‘I love you’ is slowly slipping away.

Yes, she signs all those things. Yes, her signing has improved even as her hearing as deteriorated. But, I’m really going to miss the sweet little voice of my daughter.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so sad….but I am.