Paul Follows A number of kids at the cerebral palsy center stood out; i thought one day I’d write my interactions, the little black girl who was emotionally abused and burned by her uncle (and other things) who nobody could manage to teach her how to count change ,including me but she had a good sense of humor… the little 6 year old in this REALY TALL wheelchair that had a perpetual smile and always called me over to play with him – lots of grunts and smiles and shakey stiff limbs but it’s not hard to understand if you really pay attention to at least a few things.. …then there’s the little hispanic boy who was abused by ALL of his uncles at the house; but didn’t really recognize it as such, he seemed happy and clingy but would say things I had to remind him not to say, and had to keep him from clinging too much, the 15 year old boy with down’s syndrome that was always happy but liked to steal things and in trips to the local shop for an outing, he always had to be patted down to told to return the items, in hopes that he’d eventually learn it’s wrong. One little boy had a catheter in his ear and I had to console him as he was getting readjusted and his mother or father couldn’t make it in… I was close to becoming an Occupational Therapist – they in fact offered me a job there to work on their computers and the kids full time and I really wanted to. But being immature, I didn’t get all of my paperwork nor fingerprints in on day – I was a few days later. And they had a strict policy that it had to be in on time, but also that once you’ve applied, you can no longer volunteer there. [in fear of people lashing out in anger for being fired or not hired] So that part was hard, but I had no regrets except being punctual in future deadlines.

Paul Follows A number of kids at the cerebral palsy center stood out; i thought one day I’d write my interactions, the little black girl who was emotionally abused and burned by her uncle (and other things) who nobody could manage to teach her how to count change ,including me but she had a good sense of humor… the little 6 year old in this REALY TALL wheelchair that had a perpetual smile and always called me over to play with him – lots of grunts and smiles and shakey stiff limbs but it’s not hard to understand if you really pay attention to at least a few things..
…then there’s the little hispanic boy who was abused by ALL of his uncles at the house; but didn’t really recognize it as such, he seemed happy and clingy but would say things I had to remind him not to say, and had to keep him from clinging too much, the 15 year old boy with down’s syndrome that was always happy but liked to steal things and in trips to the local shop for an outing, he always had to be patted down to told to return the items, in hopes that he’d eventually learn it’s wrong.

One little boy had a catheter in his ear and I had to console him as he was getting readjusted and his mother or father couldn’t make it in…

I was close to becoming an Occupational Therapist – they in fact offered me a job there to work on their computers and the kids full time and I really wanted to. But being immature, I didn’t get all of my paperwork nor fingerprints in on day – I was a few days later. And they had a strict policy that it had to be in on time, but also that once you’ve applied, you can no longer volunteer there. [in fear of people lashing out in anger for being fired or not hired]

So that part was hard, but I had no regrets except being punctual in future deadlines.

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