May 10, 2011 was a beautiful spring day in Connecticut. I was idling in a traffic jam on my way home from work. Then, from the other direction, a pickup truck doing 80 mph suddenly veered into my lane and hit my car head on. Just before I passed out from the shock, I saw the fields of Coventry recede into the distance as the helicopter carried my shattered body to St. Francis. I was later told that I did twice on the trip.
A little over three weeks later, I was revived from a medically induced coma. You’ve seen those cartoons with mummy-like people with bound limbs hanging in the air – literally, that was me. To my family’s relief, I said my first convincing sentence in almost a month. Decor prohibits me from sharing it with you.
It was a long road back, almost a year, as I progressed from the hospital to a nursing facility and finally, blessedly, home. I was stable at the physical therapy clinic. The best day of it all was when I healed enough to be transferred in a wheelchair, rolling the halls wherever I wanted: freedom! “Wheelchair bound” offends me. I was wheelchair independent.
I soon learned that the world was not designed for wheelchair users. There were too many inaccessible buildings and fixtures to count, and I missed many favorite family outings. Getting caught in Kohl’s clothes racks was like getting lost in a dense jungle without a machete. I had a panic attack, crying in the parking lot after my son finally saved me.
I was still a wheelchair user when I first came to SAMHSA in 2013. I am grateful for the flexibility of the program to continue physical therapy and the opportunity to work remotely from a nursing home while I recovered from my third hip replacement surgery. This also saved me from the insidious influence of boredom. I am fortunate that my injuries were such that some improvement was possible. I know some people who have had disabilities all their lives. I have great respect for their persistence in facing obstacles to full participation in society from birth. The most painful thing can be the lack of respect for their abilities and potential from others. I was given a button at a disability rights rally that says “Attitudes are the Real Disability.”
At first, being told I might never walk again rekindled the attitude I had when I was hospitalized for schizophrenia as a teenager. I was told that at the time my diagnosis eliminated any hope of a career, home or family. Contempt fueled my recovery.
I walk with a cane now because I leaned on the same coping skills I used in my mental health recovery—distress tolerance, awareness, accepting support, dogged determination, and a tenacious grip on hope. I still live with physical disability, partial deafness, chronic pain and traumatic brain injury.
July 26 marks the 33rd anniversary of its establishment Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). Compared to the general population, people with physical disabilities are at greater risk of suicide1substance use and mental health problems and co-occurring disorders2. These disparities have deepened during the COVID-19 pandemic. SAMHSA and our community partners have an important role to play in supporting people with disabilities to reach their full potential. SAMHSA’s focus population includes people with invisible disabilities as a result of their behavioral health conditions. SAMHSA programs such as Protection & Advocacy for Individuals with Mental Illness (PAIMI) serve to protect their rights. We must strive to improve the accessibility of services, support the protection of rights and do our best to support community inclusion in all aspects of life. To that end, SAMHSA recently assembled a set of resources related to the landmark US Supreme Court decision Olmstead v. LC that established the right to community life.
We all have our limitations. I try to live with what I can’t do, overcome the difficult and keep testing the limits. Please do it with yours, whatever they are. Appreciate people who are different for their wealth. As we celebrate the ADA, I ask you to support its promise of equality and opportunity in our programs, in our communities, and among us.
1 Association between type of functional disability and suicide-related outcomes among US adults with disabilities in the National Survey on Drug Use and Health, 2015–2019
2 Mental health and substance use among adults with disabilities during the COVID-19 pandemic – United States, February-March 2021
