Frazzles & Co.

My little sister has Spina Bifida. It's a condition that means she was born with a curved spine. Basically, because of that curve, the brain can't properly send messages to her legs to work. So since birth, she has been paralyzed from the waist down and unable to walk.

It's been really interesting to grow up in a home with a sibling that has special needs. I remember when my parents first brought her home from the hospital. I was four, and I was SO excited to have a little sister! They set down her carseat by the door and I ran to go play with my new baby. But as fast as I could get to the carseat, my parents had grabbed me, and sat me down, and in panicked, anxious tones told me Sarah was different, that she was special, and we had to be extra gentle with her so I couldn't play with her for a little while. That first year was a blur. I don't really remember much from then, because they were always in the hospital or at appointments. Our family eventually got used to being surrounded by tubes, medical supplies, caster carts, and splints.

When we moved to Saskatoon, I was put in the same room as Sarah, and after one really scary emergency, I was terrified that something would happen to her while I was in the same room. I used to stay up late watching her, making sure her chest was still rising and falling as she breathed. (Actually, now that I think about it, I did that all the way up until I moved off to University.) I grew up watching my mom essentially be an in-home nurse. Both her and my dad have been amazing. From watching them, I learned how to catheterize and do pressure sore dressings, and what to do in case of emergencies.

Of course, our family has had challenges because of it. Not a lot of other families have to worry about how to get their kid into the bathtub so they can take a shower or plan roadtrips around a catheterization schedule. We learned from early on, that unless it's an activity EVERYONE can participate in, there is a very small chance that our family will do it. Hence why we are not a jetskiing family. At one point or another, it's been hard on every single one of us.

But, in some ways, our family is like many others. We don't treat Sarah any differently than we treat each other. She has chores (much to her dismay) and has punishments and gets in trouble for not doing her homework just like the rest of us. People have looked at me in horror when they hear stories of how we've gotten in fistfights with Sarah. Or how I purposely use sarcasm around her because I know she doesn't understand it. Haaa... She and I treat each other just like any other sisters would. I tease her mercilessly and help her do her hair and pick out her outfits and she calls me dumb names and rolls her eyes at everything I say.

It's been hard, yes, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I remember her first wheelchair. I remember the first time she was put in her standing frame apparatus, and with a walker she "walked" across the kitchen. I remember proudly introducing her to my friends. I remember watching her win a gold medal with her wheelchair dance group. Due to our circumstances growing up, my brothers and I are all comfortable around those with special needs simply because we've been brought up surrounded by people like Sarah. We're all a little more responsible and grown-up and compassionate because of her.. She's amazing. She never complains about anything, and if I smiled as much as she does, my face would hurt. Like legit hurt. As far as I'm concerned, with all her abilities, it would be a gross insult to say she has a disability. We love Sarah just as she is and we wouldn't be the same without her.