Embryoid I

 
– Ciarán’s alternate ability page.

        Welcome
Using a Brain in Cavan
     Alternative Abilities
   Terminology
    A new e-mail list for the Visually impaired
    Life as a Pin Cushion
       My Legal Studies
      The Prisoner
    Righteous Anger?
    Being disabled in Cavan - no laughing matter.
    Disability v. Ambition
   

Welcome

Welcome to the part of my website which one visitor described as 'the ramblings of an asshole'. True, rambles there are a plenty, but an asshole is a rather vulgar, indeed offensive term. I have never met the person who wrote this, and therefore can bear him no malice. So why should he say this about me? Such name-calling is frightfully churlish. 

My disabilities are something I've become used to, and I don't think they are all that interesting. I have no desire to indulge in petty, pity-seeking self-indulgence. It was Aristotle Onassis who said, allegedly, that the only place anyone should look for sympathy was between shit and syphillis in a dictionary. What I talk about here are attitudes towards me as a disabled person and I'm not afraid to tell a few home truths. It is, I stress, a personal response.

Using a brain in Cavan.

I received an email message recently from a certain T. Ford; I had received a message from him in the past but had binned it as the rubbish it was - otherwise I would have ignored this one as a hoax. It was obvious that he did not like my web-page, but I do not believe that this gave him the right to indulge in such a personal attack on me. I have never met him and know practically nothing about him, so he could never have figured in my web comments. All I know is that he is somehow involved with those who promote heritage and tourism in this God-forsaken place. In his e-mail message he saw fit to ridicule my doctorate and to poke fun at my disabilities, even suggesting in a flight of psycho-babble that they were the root cause of a feeling of frustration and personal failure which he attributed to me. Now I long ago realised that one does not measure success by the yardstick of a rancid local fish tank (or should that be shark-pool?) like Cavan. Success, or its apparent dearth, do not interest me in the least. He also had the temerity to imply that I deliberately used my disabilities as a badge for a victim syndrome. Bollocks! There are many victims apart from me in this green and Christian land - most people seek therapy in the bottle. It was furthermore hinted that I was so screwed up that I should seek psychotherapy. Well I believe Mr Ford is the one in need of therapy. I live a full and fruitful life pursuing my various interests and hobbies - I don't while away my time cruising the Internet for Web Pages I don't like. He probably doesn't get out enough. I can't get out, but that's only my victim status showing through! His lack of a sense of humour was quite breath-taking, but then I sensed that, while he may have sent the e-mail message, others were its real authors. Let's just say there was too much of a coincidence  but then I should be resigned to this. Had Mr Ford been expressing the outraged pride of a native at slights upon his home place I might have sensed some justification, but he is, as we say here, a blow-in, and we all remember what Liam Cosgrave said about them. Now I will continue to laugh and poke fun at my native county - it is the place where I was born, and I will never NEVER seek the imprimatur of Mr Ford or his friends before doing it.  Finally, I was reminded by this spokesperson for the down-trodden scum of Cavan that quite a lot of people here had brains - as if I needed an American to tell me that. The problem is that so few Cavan people have the courage to use them, terrified no doubt of attracting the victimisation of hostile critics.  I'm not averse to valid criticism so that had my pages been denounced by a member of Cavan's womenfolk as being the product of a geek with a microscopic meat-thermometer, whose spunk was watery and who farted incessantly during intercourse I would have just shrugged my shoulders. But then, that's just me being infantile again, but that's the type that are most popular here in Cavan.

A new e-mail list for the Visually Impaired.

Alternative Abilities

"Disability" is a horribly negative term. It stresses inability. Realists will say that there are things that people with a "disability" cannot do - depending on their particular condition. This is also true of the "non-disabled". If this ludicrous term was used more, it might show up how unreal the notion of "disability" is. If a person can never perform a task they usually find ways round it, or accept that they can excel in doing other things. This is what everyone does, regardless of whether they are blind, or they have perfect physical health but they can't get their heads around Chinese or Advanced Rocket science.

The Special Olympics have been a marvellous showcase of Alternative Abilities. The participants are benignly labelled as having learning difficulties. Everybody has seen their skills and the joys on the faces of the special olympians. Well there are an awful lot of people in this country, often holding positions of power and influence who have learning difficulties. They think they know it all and they most certainly cannot be told anything. As for having alternative abilities these often extend only to lifting a driver at the tee.

Life as a Pin Cushion.

In late August 2001 I began my beta interferon treatment, which is supposed to prevent my Multiple Sclerosis from getting worse. It involves injections every two days. Interestingly these ought, where possible, to be self-administered. Now I have a very acute needle-phobia, but I have been helped in overcoming this, at least partially, by the two special beta interferon nurses, Eilish Moran and Una Kelly (two fine specimens of West-of-Ireland womanhood). I now have no problems in injecting myself (though I'd rather choose life), but I still freak out at the thought of anyone else giving me an injection. The "jabs" are not that painful, as they are sub-cutaneous, and some ice applied to the spot beforehand can act as a local anaesthetic..
    My life has recently changed for the better through assistance for my other disability. In early October the National Council for the Blind's Community worker, Bernie Rawls, supplied me with some magnification software called Supernova. As I can now sit at a comfortable distance from the VDU, computer use has become a pleasure again. Bernie also alerted me to the existence of a fantastic newsgroup operated by the Visually Impaired Computer Society or VICS. This is an on-line forum  where visually impaired computer users can seek help from, and give tips to, other visually impaired computer users. They can also share news items on the whole range of computer-related issues. Visit the VICS site to enrol.

Spring is surely the most marvellous of seasons when we truly awake from  slumber. The winter is a time when I seem to attenuate my senses, but with Spring I reverse this, letting nature, the sun's brightness and the growing verdure of the plant world course through me.

My Legal Studies

I have begun my second year as a Law student with the Open University. If I have any negative feelings it is one of self-reproach: why did I not do it sooner? To say that my studies have been a voyage of marvellous discovery would be an understatement. I found the detailed introduction to European Community Law stimulating, and it is an area in which I would like to do further work. In many ways, it has been the most worthwhile time of my life.

I sat my examination at home, in the presence of a charming invigilator appointed by the Open University. The ability to sit one's exams at home is a very useful and helpful privilege afforded by the OU to its disabled students. The University does not treat disabled students as freaks or charitable cases worthy of smarmy yet shallow solicitude, but as ordinary human beings who sometimes have needs which can be,  and are, speedily and unfussily addressed.

I would like to become a legal practitioner, but I know that this will demand the surmounting of numerous man-made barricades. 

I have learned so much already about law. For one thing I have been reconciled to the fact that law and justice are not always synonymous, but I am also as reconciled as ever to the belief that the law belongs to everyone and should be easily accessible. It is not, and should never be used, by a small clique (who are often law-breakers themselves) as a form of bogeyman to enforce acquiescence.

Liberation

For a long time I had become reconciled to a life of restricted movement. Any mobility I would regain I though, would be in a wheel-chair, not that I have ever had any hang-ups or issues with wheel-chairs. But I have now been given the ability and the confidence to walk again, on my own (though using arm-crutches). This is all thanks to my charming and delightful physiotherapist. I owe her a lasting debt of gratitude for she has helped me to regain a part of my life which I believed to be no longer realistically attainable. In truth I feel like a new man, and I hope no-one will then quote Lurchio aka Frankie Howerd in Up Pompeii! who responded to such a claim by saying "Well it's always better than sticking with the one."

I think it was Mao Zedong who once said "A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step". Well I feel that my new journey has most definitely begun. I am a realist and a pragmatist and so I have not set myself unattainable goals, but I am rediscovering the pleasure of walking. I am learning to overcome little barriers which previously seemed insurmountable, realising that what held me back was a lack of confidence born of an irrational fear of falling.

The Prisoner.

During the past winter I felt more and more like a prisoner, though admittedly within a gilded cage. To a great extent I don't miss the opportunity to visit Cavan town and meet its people who always have an excuse for doing nothing. Travel outside my front gate was difficult. I can't drive a car and the footpaths are so uneven. A level surface presents few problems, but the footpaths slope in one direction and then buckle into an array of minor precipices. Such details are usually insignificant to pedestrians. Cars are parked on the footpath (an offence)( but nobody takes any action. Given the increased volume of traffic on the road, which is not very wide, some form of prohibition on parking, such as the imposition of yellow lines might be an idea. A senior official of the local council agreed to install yellow lines some time ago, but we have heard nothing since. After all, no one expected such a high-and-mighty individual as that to actually mean what he said.

In front of my gate there is a broad depression on the footpath, probably the result of poor drainage. On returning from a visit to my neurologist I slipped into this, after alighting from my transport. I was not hurt, though as it was a hole, and it was February I was covered in muck. The Local Council were told of this hole, with a view that they would do something about it, like fill it in. We couldn't do anything; it is not on our property. That was February 2001, and the hole is still there, possibly a bit larger. There have been numerous promises from the County Council to remedy the situation, but what was it Claudius said in Hamlet Act 3, iii. "Words without thoughts never to heaven go" - or anywhere else, but then they are the Lingua Franca of that organisation.

There was a time when I could cross the road running in front of my house without any difficulty. One has to do this to gain access to the "outside world". The road has become the main route between Cavan town and its bypass. We were never informed that this would happen. Consequently the volume of traffic has increased exponentially. One would have to be an athlete to cross the road now. No provisions were made for the many non-athletes. I can now walk again but I can't sprint. But then cars and trucks booming along with no regard for speed limits or pedestrians (and frequently other road users) are symbols of "Development". They accompanied by anonymous housing developments, breeding-grounds for Cavan's next generation of battlers. The only people who don't have cars are those too poor to afford them. Would it not be selfish to expect Cavan Town's march towards its glorious future to be stymied by the poor and the old and the disabled?!

I know that the above will cause anger and vexation amongst the little local clique who think they own the locality. Public service is a noble calling, yet Public Servants ought to remember that they are servants of the public, not its masters. Such a statement will be considered outrageous, but I must admit I like tilting at windmills, especially those that think they are giants.

Righteous Anger?

I am sure that, as a "disabled" person, I am not alone in sometimes feeling a bit hacked off. There are two types of feeling here. One can be of the self pitying why me?" variety - what perversion of fate has caused me to be "saddled" with this affliction? In many (perhaps too many) situations this questioning is pointless and circular. Some of us are lucky enough to have come to terms with things, yet even then there is the occasional, hopefully only occasional, angry question. A second form of anger is borne out of frustration, often at the bone-headed ignorance of the group of people I will call decision-makers. This can include national and local government officials, down to the person who decides to leave a sign or a keg of beer on a footpath. It can also include people who decide who is to fill a particular position, and who decides, for whatever spurious reason, not to employ a person with a "disability", even though the person is as qualified, or even more qualified, than the other candidates.

Anger is an ultimately destructive emotion. It solves nothing and it drains energy, energy which should and could be used in other ways. But anger should be resolved, or transformed, into something else, not brushed under the carpet where it festers and accumulates. It is seldom a bad idea to "let off steam". Furthermore, prejudice against disabled people is as evil and pernicious as the racism which is becoming such a hideous blemish in our society. We should not be afraid to challenge and expose people holding prejudicial views, no matter how powerful or influential they think themselves to be.

Disability in Cavan: no laughing matter.

I remember the day I was told I had Multiple Sclerosis. It was a shock. I felt confused and a little angry - not against the marvellous neurosurgeon who gave me 'the bad news': he was being honest with me, and honesty is a virtue I admire. Above all I felt afraid; afraid of the future, but also of the fact that I would henceforth have two disabilities, and that this fact would lead to a doubling of the enmity a small yet powerful group of cowards here in Cavan would feel towards me.

I've always been something of a serial over achiever. I used to tell myself "if you are as qualified, or more qualified than other people, then they have to take you seriously and your disability will cease to be an issue'. In Cavan however, if you happen to be viewed as more qualified by anybody holding on to his little job like a life-raft in a bath full of his own piss, well then you are in trouble. They despise you because you are seen as a threat. If, furthermore, you have some disability, this will be exaggerated and played upon. 1,500 years of Christianity haven't really done much here. In August of each year post primary students receive their Leaving Certificate results. (For people outside Ireland, I must explain that this is the examination whose results determine whether students can attend university, which college and which course they may follow.) I don't wish to be overly cynical, but in Cavan it doesn't matter whether you have your Leaving Certificate or not. Indeed you might be viewed as over-qualified. What matters is an association with one of the quasi-criminal cliques here, combined with an ability to flatter.

I am truly sorry if this strikes people as bitter or angry, but if it does I cannot be chided for insincerity. There is nothing worse than the thought that you have been ignored for a job for which some little cretin with the "right" connections is getting paid. Or how about a situation (happily not that common but far from unknown, nevertheless) where you are not given credit for your work, because to do so might 'offend' someone. While we are on the subject of offending people I will tell you that I am mortified about causing people hurt, but I do have to say 'What about me? Do I not hurt?' If some people are offended because they recognise themselves on my site I say to them: 'Don't curse the mirror because you're ugly'.

True it's not very pleasant, but then being 'disabled' isn't really a laughing matter. Maybe it is impolite of me to mention it; after all I don't know who I might offend. But what am I supposed to do? My job is taken from me, given to someone who is not fit to wipe my shoes, who then takes much of the credit for my work and who then takes away the little which passed as my livelihood. Am I expected to roll over docilely, saying 'Jolly Good Show chaps. Kick me some more while I'm down'? This will certainly pass muster as dreadful in some quarters, while others may, with some justification, wish to throw it 'in the Irish Sea'. I respect their opinions - so long as they are their own.

There are some people who view my website as a bit of fun. I'm glad that they are big enough to see the funny side of things. But let me assure them that everything I say on this page is said with great earnestness. Such as the following: I truly believe that some of the good, mass-going, Church-obeying people of Cavan wouldn't have minded one little bit if I had never tried to overcome my disability. For all they care, I needn't have bothered to learn to read, let alone get a doctorate. Indeed, were I to lose what little sight I have they wouldn't be troubled. There are a lot of people who wouldn't be able to brush their teeth if they were suddenly to have half the level of "normal" sight. I have less than a tenth of normal sight in my 'good' eye, and yet, I feel that I am able to say that I have used what little I have well, and to be brutally honest I don't give a f*&k about what some bitter bastards with serious personality problems say about me. As for the majority of people around here, they are far from bad; they are often just afraid. They are horrified at what happens. This fear has been deliberately engendered by the 'powerful' people, the ones who make decisions, through whose greasy, grubby little hands money passes. These people are miserable cowards, but the 'good people' around here know that if they object they run the risk of being victimised. If they apply for planning permission it will be turned down, or delayed while a litany of technicalities are satisfied. They may well be visited by the Fire Officer, and officials will examine the obligatory notices in person and in microscopic detail.

So, what can you mutter in defence, eh? That I've been the architect of my own misfortune? That I always set my sights too high? That I've been saying such 'dreadful' things on this website? Anything I've said about Cavan and the self-important, humourless cretins who lord it over decent people is a scream of despair against those cowards who have belittled me.

I have always tried to help people when I can. I didn't expect to be put on a pedestal, but a bit of respect would have been nice, such as that which I do receive from the many decent people here.. But how can you look for respect from people who don't respect themselves?

Jesus Christ cured the blind man; he did not put obstacles in his way, nor did he tell lies about him, or attempt to steal his property. But then if Our Lord were to come to Ireland (or more particularly Cavan) today he'd be nailed to a cross quicker than you could say Come Back Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff, or he would just disappear and no one would ever mention his name again or allude to the fact that he'd ever lived. Those obstinate souls who persisted in asking questions would be victimised of course, so they'd soon come around.

"It's the same everywhere", I'm often told. Maybe it is, but there seems to be a form of jealousy-induced prejudice wrapped up in cowardice which is particularly strong here. I would love to 'out' some of the 'heroes' I'm talking about. Let me just say, there's more than one bastard in this county, and if I decide to do a bit of 'outing', well it won't be on these pages.

Disability v. ambition

What prospects exist for those who are 'disabled' and ambitious in Ireland? If we are 'lucky' we might get a placement of some sort on an exploitation scheme, where our abilities will be used for a certain length of time, and then we will be discarded with little or no formality. If we complain about our treatment we are warned to be 'discreet' - in other words "Shut up or else". The 'reason' for our dismissal will be laid insincerely at the door of our own disability - 'At the end of the day they just weren't able to  do the job'.  Our contributions will not get recognition; instead they will be attributed to someone else -  someone 'able-bodied' who lacks the skills we have. However they will possess a skill in nauseating self-promotion and what I term labial lubrication of the anus.

But one doesn't realise that the exploitation is taking place - not until it's too late. My own experience was that I was so full of gratitude for having been 'given a chance' that I didn't realise the nature of the 'chance' I had been given. I was so loyal - when my superior threatened to resign because of criticism from 'on high' I stated that I would leave too. When I mentioned this to a friend she laughed, adding 'he wouldn't stick his neck out for you, you know'. But I am being unduly negative I hear you say, probably a little bitter. What type of people would do this type of thing? Evil bastards who should be ashamed to show their faces in public. I was so stupid; I never believed that human beings, my own 'fellow Cavanmen' could be such low down curs. I thought I had a contract, but instead it was a temporary work agreement not worth the paper it wasn't written on.

But maybe the fact that I worked for the particular institution was a dream of mine. I was told that a company employed as consultants had asked for payment for work they had done researching the area's local history - one of the things I had done. No doubt they got paid, more than I did, and it was adduced as 'proof' that Parker wasn't doing his job properly. I remember another 'consultant', a nice enough fellow, whose job was to provide material for an exhibition on natural history. His contract expired and he disappeared from view. Some months later my immediate boss asked me to provide text for wall-panels for this exhibition, which was to take up a whole room. I replied that I'd be able to do that very quickly, as we had the work carried out by the consultant. My boss replied 'We haven't'. 'But I know he did the work' I protested. 'But he never submitted any of it', he answered. 'He got paid though didn't he' I asked rhetorically. One of my colleagues there had told me that he was being paid more per week than our combined salaries. No wonder they were able to state that they no longer had enough money to pay me. How would they? I wouldn't mind, if only I was credited with the work I had done. Instead, no doubt, even that has been taken by a figure who wouldn't know Pleistocene from plastocene. 

Fifteen years ago I lost what sight I had when I contracted a condition called RBN (Retino... something or other). I have been told that around thirty per cent of people who get this subsequently develop Multiple Sclerosis. I wasn't told this at the time, and I'm not worried that I wasn't.

The Internet gives me an opportunity to be heard, to say what I feel, even though silence might be sometimes more prudent. If you're 'disabled', you're going to be walked over whether you're silent or not. I'm proud of my website. It's my own creation. If anybody else deserves thanks it is Bill Gates. Yes! one of the richest man in the world, though maybe he deserves his millions. Its creation, though a labour of love, has not been easy, but then I don't always take the easiest route in life. I'm sick to my stomach with people spreading rumours about its content, though they say quickly they've never read it themselves. Such denials have an element of the Petrine. But I'd like to remind these 'non-readers' in Cavan of two, maybe uncomfortable, facts: the site was not established for the titillation of the corner-boys of Cavan. and second, when they see this they are probably sitting at a comfortable distance from the screen. Spare a thought for those, like myself, who have to sit very close, and count yourself fortunate before you start spreading rumours about who I'm 'getting at', or before you lift the 'phone to threaten me and my family.

Terminology

People may ask why I don’t like using the term ‘disabled’; for a start it is inaccurate and needlessly negative. It implies that there is such a thing as a ‘perfect’ specimen of humanity, with specifications like a television or washing machine. It implies also that anyone who fails to measure up to these specifications is sub-standard; they ought to be rejected by society, and the fact that they are not is something for which 'disabled' people should be eternally grateful – and forever acquiescent as well.
      I do see myself as being unlucky but perhaps fortunate. I have to say though that having any form of ‘disability’ is no joke. I often get depressed because I can’t (and can never) drive a car and go where I want, when I want. But then I think of the loads of lovely people I have met on Public Transport, especially when I was in Dublin. I also think of the many friends who offer me transport here in Cavan without a second thought, therefore exhibiting welcome humanity. I think as well of the people whose lives are either ended or ruined through car accidents, and I consider myself fortunate. I believe that I am able to see things differently, and there are far more ways of seeing than through the eyes. A far greater cause of sadness for me is the fact that I cannot always recognise people whom I meet. I am sure that I have inadvertently lost the friendships of people whom I've passed in the street without greeting.
    I have always consoled myself with the knowledge that there are an awful lot of things that I can do, and at which I excel. These include historical research and the ability to communicate my findings in what I consider a clear and pleasant style. I am always so proud whenever some of my stuff gets published, although I sometimes won’t read it for about two years - I'm too ashamed! I have become something of a specialist on the history of Ireland, especially Counties Cavan and Waterford in the Later Medieval period (1200-1550) and I have written fairly extensively about them. I was delighted to be asked to edit a volume of Irish historical documents from 1160 to 1600. The multifaceted work of the editor is challenging and demanding, but very worthwhile and rewarding.
    I like to help people, either by providing information or advice. I take very seriously that sentiment which says that it is by giving that we truly receive.
    Imagine how I felt when I heard that a book had been published on an important part of the medieval and early modern history of Cavan. The author, who has lived in Cavan for many decades, never told me of his project. I didn’t even receive an invitation to the book’s launch. However, to be fair to him (I am always so fair) maybe he had no part in sending out the invitations; that role being performed by the organisation that sponsored the book, the people who sent some of the author's research to a Dublin heritage consultant, who thereupon sent it to the 'expert' - me. How embarrassing it would have been had I been at the launch! Heavens, Banquo's gate-crashing of the banquet would have been nothing to it! I just hope that none of those involved thought they were slighting me in some way – such people truly deserve our pity and our prayers.

But enough of me (there are enough 'I's above to fill a peacock's tail many times over). It is my hope to use this part of my web site to relate the achievements of others who are labelled as ‘disabled’. We have enough barriers to overcome, without having to deal with those erected by our fellow human beings, but then some do not deserve to be called human. The two greatest barriers are the product of prejudice and jealousy:  If you're good you invite prejudice; if you're very good, there is jealousy.

I get angry at the indifference, call it bloody-mindedness of others. My own way of dealing with this anger is to turn it on its head and transform it into humour, ridicule and satire. It is not always easy to laugh in the face of people who despise you.

As I have said above, I would like to hear about others who have been labelled ‘disabled’ by the world, and who have suffered as a result. I don't intend to make this into a campaigning page; the example of those who have fought and won gives heart to others. Hopefully we can make a better world, where the ability of all is rewarded.

I urge anyone who has got this far to visit Paddy Doyle's collection of web pages.

The Blind Peacock

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