Mental Retardation replaced by “Intellectual Disability”

Earlier today I posted this on a social media page (of which I am NOT linking — yes I very much value anonymity, especially since most of my followers are those who are not acquainted with me; and the few friends very dear to me which have been furnished the link to this blog, find it too je ne sais pas because not one has remarked with feedback once they have the link).
“Mental Retardation” replaced by “Intellectual Disability” — For all those who gripe about “politically correct” words, if you don’t understand why words are important and can hurt, you obviously have not been subject to a minority experience. This should have been changed two decades ago. At least it’s progress. Read Change in Terminology: “Mental Retardation” to “Intellectual Disability”

 Man 1 of whom is not someone I know beyond the social media site commented:
Initially being mentally retarded was a medical condition. Someone then used the medical definition as an insult. Changing the name of the condition does little to stop people from insulting one another.

It does, however, give rise to new insult.

Man 2 also someone I do not know beyond the social media site added his comment: Oh, this is just silly.

This is what I officially responded with:

I wrote a long passionate response, and decided not to post it in this medium. If one chooses to make oneself look like a jerk, the freedom of speech does permit that. By all means, speak your bigoted mind. It needs some exercise.

Here’s what I wanted to say and then decided to bite my tongue and keep the biting remark simple and short. I wanted to publish it somewhere. I’m sure it’ll offend. I won’t apologize for this one.

Good points. Yes, I’m very aware of the history of the diagnosis of mental retardation in the medical field and it’s manipulation and improper use of it by the common person. I chose to express my support for the official change, and to those that know me well know I’m decently educated on the history of mental retardation, mental illnesses, and mental disabilities. All of which are now grouped as Intellectual Disability. A few sources mentioned people if authority labeled Einstein as mentally retarded in his formative years. Medical diagnosis and the health service industry are not always sensitive. Just because someone holds a nice title or rank does not justify the use of established bigotry by them or by others. Especially when they are not informed of the context and connotations.

There’s always a way to insult people. If such behaviors are chosen, at least the new term makes the jerks have to think of a better insult, thus exercising their brain rather than regurgitate age old bigotry. Telling someone “U R returded” is a poor delivery of and insult. Too many times have I corrected insults I received to the point where the originator looks stupid and I look like the bully.

I don’t mind feedback. Glad to see people use their brains even if it’s not in ways I agree with. I politely decllne on further responses to the subject. I’m okay with people having prejudices, stereotypes, and crap. It’s sort of like religion, I gave up trying to educate people on how their views suck and wanting to make waves of change. I’ve resolved to asserting when confronted.

On a side note, I’m pretty sure Intellectual Disability is going to be subject to remarks tied to Freud since Freud’s work explored the ego and the ID, so abbreviations are going to be tossed around and the common person will find ways to not only make fun of Intelletual Disabilities, but also Freud and sexual dysfunctions — all because they are not informed and don’t attempt to be.

I’m not sure Intellectual Disability is a good term either. I’m afraid the alternatives are worse.

Need-Based Humiliation Bureaucracies

6 months into 2013, and I am still writing 2012. Can’t deny there’s an exceptional disdain for this year. Maybe I should start writing “2014,” so then I can feel like I have a head start on the good times. Cursed odd numbered years. 9/11/11, the Revolutionary War, Civil War and WWII began and ended in odd numbered years. Nothing good ever happens (for me) in odd numbered years. I was born in an odd numbered year. Surely that had to be painful. That’s a joke. Laugh, damnit.

In the beginning it was strange reading reports about me. Especially when I was a child.

It was strange writing in the third person when I started the new wheelchair ordeal. I’m becoming well versed with writing prognosis reports about myself in the third person to justify my disabilities as bureaucrats review my case history, and my lifestyle while expecting me to put my life on hold. “How come you can’t use a walker instead of a wheelchair?” Maybe I AM using a walker while your bureaucratic processes piss away over 2 years of MY abbreviated livelihood, wasting tax dollars for things spent my 20s being independent from BECAUSE I have to resort to using a walker. Here I am, writing thesis, documentation full of nice sounding buzzwords, helping medical professionals establish medical need on my behalf in the stupid reports with ICD9s, HCPCs, and K codes about how I try to live my life (MRADLs) and do things like chase my walker at the gym, almost fall as I chase and if I was half a second slower or had lost my balance… my walker would have been in a 10 foot swimming pool AND I’d have a concussion making it hard for me to write in the third person. If I talk in the third person, someone seek help for me. Maybe by then someone can add mentally unstable to the list and someone else can do this advocacy thing for me.

I really want to unleash a string of profanity. As this goes on I am increasingly tempted to explore the options to file lawsuit for prolonged indifference and malicious intent and abuse/neglect of process. I have no idea who I would file a claim against since there are so many incompetencies from so many involved. Over 2 years, I could have had 2 kids by now. I could be half finished with school. I could have lost weight, or gained weight, or I my medical needs could have changed by now making the wheelchair totally wrong for my needs by now.

I’m honestly describing in a page, the hardship of opening a door, another about how every time I cross the street I have anxiety attacks for fear of being hit because I might trip in the cross walk, and then not have enough time to continue to the other side before the light changes… about how I am easily jostled and causes me to lose my balance in public, how I have the smallest walker I could possibly find and it still does not fit to take it down the new-ish versions of the 1960’s-inspired-style buses with seats that face forward. Good luck if the bus is filled with people in those seats. Should I share the embarrassment I’m subject to at needing to descend the bus backwards because I can’t lift the walker high enough for long enough over the gap between the bus and the sidewalk curb? These bureaucracies for social institutions are designed to humiliate those needing help under a guise of processes for need-based programs. Need-to-humiliate-before-willing-to-consider-helping-you bureaucracies. Regular people don’t have files about how they open doors, take a piss, shower, feed/eat. What gives bureaucracies the right to strip people of dignity and self-respect? How is that NOT being treated like a second-rate person? I beseech, why does the U.N. want to adopt a People with Disabilities Treaty/Convention to apply to their own creed/treaty for so many nations to legally treat people with disabilities in such revolting fashion? Why is the Republican party not flattered that the U.N. wants to model a treaty based on what the U.S.A has? We could speculate the reason being fear the U.N. would see past the dog and pony show.

What private details of my life do they NOT want? Should I just write a biography of every activity I do? Thoreau-style? What a terrible bore. I’m sure Civil Disobedience is worthwhile if he didn’t spew about it in such a dry fashion.  I’ve been boring myself assembling it all. And then to even think of the slightest possibility it could be misused and then turned into some required college or high school reading after I cease to exist, and there’s no reader autonomy.

Can’t tell you how much I really want a cigarette right now. Breathe deep. Baaaagh, just reminded me of how good I felt to take a big drag when stressed. No, no, no. I have been doing good. Don’t surrender to weakness.