The Americans with Disabilities Act turns 20 today!

Thanks to the ADA, Americans with disabilities enjoy better access to buildings, transportation, telecommunication, employment, and education. It paved the way for IDEA, the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, which enabled me to graduate from college.  There’s still a long way to go before we as a society [...]]]>

The Americans with Disabilities Act turns 20 today!

Thanks to the ADA, Americans with disabilities enjoy better access to buildings, transportation, telecommunication, employment, and education. It paved the way for IDEA, the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, which enabled me to graduate from college.  There’s still a long way to go before we as a society achieve the four goals of the ADA –  equality of opportunity, full participation, independent living, and economic self-sufficiency — but it’s clear we’ve come a long way.

I’d like to point out, however, that the improved access that has resulted from the ADA doesn’t only benefit “disabled” people.  Curb cuts are just one example of this.  Curb cuts, those gently sloped cut-aways between the sidewalk and the street, are required by the ADA to enable wheelchair users to easily cross the street like the rest of us do.

The thing is, wheelchair users are not the only people who use curb cuts.  Have you ever crossed the street with a piece of wheeled luggage?  With a stroller?  How about on a bike or a skateboard?

If the answer to any of those questions is “yes”, then your life has been made just a little bit easier by the ADA.

In honor of the 20th anniversary of the ADA, Representative Jim Langevin of Rhode Island is presiding over Congress today.  Langevin is the first quadriplegic to be elected to Congress.

For a discussion of what we’ve accomplished with the ADA so far, and what remains to be done, check out this online discussion at the Washington Post, where Andrew J. Imparato of the American Association for People with Disabilities fields questions about the ADA’s history and its future.

She’s a post-doc in neuroscience, and she has posted in the past about various psychoactive medications and how they work.    She writes about the two major classes of ADHD drugs, [...]]]> I’ve been reading blogging by Scicurious (formerly of Neurotopia at Science Blogs, now at a blog called either “Neurotic Psychology” or “Scicurious”, I’m not sure which.

She’s a post-doc in neuroscience, and she has posted in the past about various psychoactive medications and how they work.    She writes about the two major classes of ADHD drugs, Amphetamine, and Methylphenidate, as well as SSRI’s.  If you’re on any of these meds you should check out her posts.

For [...]]]> A fellow dysgraphic named Hannah recently commented on my post about dysgraphia and X-Acto knives.  She’s a costume designer who struggles with drawing, but manages hand-stitching and cutting without too much difficulty.  It got me thinking about how important it is to have the right tools when you’re trying to work around something like dysgraphia.

For instance, I’ve known for years that I write much MUCH better with certain writing implements.  I need to use a soft #2 pencil, made of wood and graphite.  I can’t use those plastic-y #2 pencils (someone once told me they were called “pressed lead”, and mechanical pencils are right out.   I need to use a medium tip ball point where the ball rolls fairly easily, but not too easily.  The grip needs to be wide, but not too wide; and a lot of those nice refillable pens are too heavy and cause fatigue.  Rollerball pens are also right out.  When I try to do something as simple as sign a check with those bastards, it looks like a 10-year-old’s attempt at forgery.

As for art, I learned pretty early that certain brushes and certain supports are crucial to working pain-free.  I work on supports that are absolutely rigid — found objects made of plastic and metal — because canvas and even board can have too much give, and that kills my hand.  As for brushes, I need ones where the bristles aren’t too soft, but aren’t so stiff that they leave brushstrokes where I don’t want them.  They also need to be a shape that’s easy to control.  My favorites are the Winsor Newton Filberts.  Click on the image to check them out.

As for the #16 X-Acto stencil blades that started this whole thing, I still use them, and they’re still great.  I tried some of the other blades, and even when they’re sharp and new, they’re just not as easy to handle as the #16’s.

Getting those filled was no picnic, I assure [...]]]> About six months ago I wrote here and at Well-Ordered about a very nasty shock I received at the dentist: a whopping SEVEN $#%^&@ING CAVITIES.  Twice as many cavities as I’d had in my adult life thus far.  All of them between my teeth.

Getting those filled was no picnic, I assure you.

The culprit, it turned out, was my Vyvanse.  ADHD drugs, like many anti-depressants, and many allergy meds, and many athsma medications, can dry out your mouth something serious. Without saliva, your mouth isn’t able to defend itself from teeth-eating bacteria.  Teeth-eating bacteria cause cavities.

My dentist assured me that he’d seen this kind of thing before, due to all types of medication, and if I followed his instructions — floss EVERY night, use a prescription-strength high-fluoride toothpaste, and chew high-strength xylitol gum and mints — my teeth would be fine.

And they are!  YAY!

If you’ve recently started a new medication, a trip to the dentist is in order.  Tell him or her that dry mouth is a side effect of your new med (whether or not you’re consciously aware of feeling dry mouth).  They can set you up so you won’t have to go through what I did.

Partly, it’s because I’ve just been too depressed.  I feel like if I write about [...]]]> I haven’t been posting a lot lately.  Partly this is because of the amount of time I’ve had to spend reading job listings, filling out applications, tweaking resumes, and trying to write cover letters that aren’t don’t sound like total BS.

Partly, it’s because I’ve just been too depressed.  I feel like if I write about what my life has bee like lately, I’d just be whining, and I should be trying to be chipper and cheerful and all that crap.

But then I realized, this is a blog about adult learning disabilities.  Life with adult LD sucks sometimes.  And seldom does it suck more than in the area of employment.

So here goes.

Back in March, when my husband was offered his exciting start-up opportunity that involves a significant pay cut, my plan was simple: I’d go back to my previous job, which wasn’t that exciting, but was a decent place to work, and I’d put in a bunch of hours there while looking for something that paid better and was more in line with what I’d actually like to do with my life.

It seemed like a good plan, because every time I’d been into the store where I used to work, my former boss had said that he’d love to put me back on the schedule.  It sounded like a done deal.

So I applied there.

And then I waited.  And waited.

And then I called them about my application, and it turned out that there had been some changes in the management staff, but I landed an interview.  I was told that my previous employee evaluations looked good, and that they could probably use me, but I should call back in a week to follow up.

So I did.

And I was told that they hadn’t made their decision yet, and I should call back in a week.

So I did, and I was told that they hadn’t made their decision yet, and I should call back in a week …

And it went on like that for about six weeks, at which point they decided to go with someone else.

Which is fine, I guess, but did they really have to string me along for six weeks?  And actually, it’s not fine.  It’s a bit of an ego blow to get turned down for an incredibly boring, menial job that I worked for five years; a job that I can do in my sleep; a job for which the company would not even need to train me.  I had pretty good evaluations at that place — and if they won’t hire me, why the hell would anybody else want to?

A few weeks after that, one of my applications actually got a nibble, and I was asked in to interview.  It was a tough interview, what I later found out was a “behavioral interview“, that began with the interviewer pressuring me to disclose “things I didn’t like” about my previous management.  I was caught off-guard, and since I was totally unprepared for that kind of interview anyway, I totally bombed it.  I know I bombed it because I received an email form letter less than 24 hours later telling me they’d decided that “another applicant was a better match for their needs” — this after they’d told me the day before that they were still interviewing a lot of people, and wouldn’t be making a decision until mid-June.  They didn’t know who they liked, but they knew it wasn’t me.  Ouch.

And all of this is on top of my ongoing problems with employment — the fact that I was never able to land an entry-level professional job, because the skill sets for all of those jobs are in the exact areas in which I am learning disabled.  Administrative assistants have to be organized and able to prioritize.  They need to keep track of other people’s schedules and contact information.  They need to know where everything is, and often they’re called upon to do light book-keeping.  Try doing that when you have dyscalculia, dysgraphia, and ADD.

Lest you assume that my problems are simply psychological, that I’m psyching myself out, let me state that my problem is not that I haven’t tried doing this sort of work.  I have.  I have tried, and I have failed, and I have gotten fired.

What kills me is that when I describe this situation to friends, they often tell me, “Yeah … you really need to be at a high enough level so that someone else is doing that work for you!”

Great!  That helps so much!  But I can’t be at a high professional level, because I can’t get my frakking foot in the door.

So I have been stuck doing retail and customer service, and all kinds of informal teaching in the arts, and at a time like this that just isn’t good enough.  My work history is all over the place, and I’m competing for jobs with people who have been focused and successful.  I hate the kind of work I’ve been doing, but I don’t know how to dig myself out.  I’m smart, I’m competent, and I learn quickly; I’m a good problem solver, I’m analytical, and I write well; and I turn 35 this month, and I still don’t know how to work around my learning disabilities.

I’m still looking.

The long version:

Well …

A few weeks back I wrote a post about taking a math test for a job I applied for.  I guess I’ve been so busy tossing resumes into a black hole that I forgot to post that I apparently passed it.

I’m not sure how I managed it, and [...]]]> The short version:

I’m still looking.

The long version:

Well …

A few weeks back I wrote a post about taking a math test for a job I applied for.  I guess I’ve been so busy tossing resumes into a black hole that I forgot to post that I apparently passed it.

I’m not sure how I managed it, and a big part of me feels like there must be some mistake.  It certainly helps that it was multiple choice and we were allowed the use of calculators.  I think it also helps that my ADD is under control, so I could focus on mitigating the dyscalculia — carefully matching each number as I put them into the calculator (seriously, I placed the calculator beneath the number as I entered it and looked at each one individually to make sure I didn’t screw it up).

The job is basically working as a cashier, which is not my favorite kind of work, but it’s a public sector position with decent pay, decent benefits, and a flexible schedule.  Since being placed on the eligibility list, I’ve received notice for two positions; unfortunately, one of them — the one with more openings and more available hours, of course — would involve working with spread sheets.

I don’t know why, but sometimes I’m fine with spreadsheets, and other times I can’t even read them.  Even if I can put together a decent cover letter, and even if I don’t experience Complete Interview Fail like the last interview I had, I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be able to make it through the probationary period for this job.

And that sucks, because it’s the only lead I have.

Guh.

I immediately felt better.  On the first day. I had more energy, less fatigued, and was not tempted to gorge [...]]]> Last week, I wrote about how I had “virtuously” cut my fat intake, with disastrous results.  My trainer/personal therapist told me to eat more fat, especially at lunch.  So I decided to give it a try.

I immediately felt better.  On the first day. I had more energy, less fatigued, and was not tempted to gorge on cookies in the evening, a bad habit which has bee creeping up on me in the last several weeks.  I’ve lost about half of the three or four pounds I gained.  Even my seasonal allergies are better, in spite of the evil trees outside my house continuing to bloom shamelessly.

Yesterday my husband rambled across a blog by a PhD named Stephen Guyenet who studies the neurobiology of body fat regulation, and sent me a link to an post on the health benefits of full-fat dairy products.  It seems that consuming your dairy products full-fat allows you to metabolize fat-soluble vitamins, such as K2, which protects against heart attack.

Wait, what?  Saturated fat PREVENTS heart attack?  That can’t be right, can it?  This needed further investigation.

And so, I spent a few hours on Whole Heath Source that should have been spent on my job search.   I write about what I learned here because of the constant allegations about ADHD, nutrition, and the “ideal” diet that can be used to “treat” or even “cure” ADD.

I’ll begin with fat.  The idea that there are good fats has been gaining credence in recent years.  We all know that unsaturated fat is good, and saturated fat is bad.  Right?  Well, not so much.  According to the Guyenet, whether the fat is saturated or unsaturated is less important than amount of omega-6 fatty acids.  Omega-6’s seem to be the real “bad fats”, whereas omega-3’s are good for your brain and stuff, which is why fish oil supplements have exploded onto the market.

Omega-6’s are present in plenty of vegetable oils, like corn oil, soybean oil, and canola oil, which are ubiquitous ingredients in American food.  They’re also found in animal products derived from animals that live on feed lots — turns out livestock feed has quite a bit of things like corn and soy.  The omega-6’s in the feed makes its way into the food these animals produce, whether we consume their flesh, their milk, or their eggs.  Animals that are pastured (like the laughing cow, pictured above!) eat a more natural diet, and the food that comes from them is much healthier — lower in those omega-6’s.

Guyenet’s take on carbs is also interesting.  We all know about the Demon Carb from the Atkins Craze a few years ago, and, anecdotally at least, many people with ADD have found their symptoms improved by a low-carb, high protein diet.  Guyenet believes that the problem is not carbs themselves, but the kind of carbs consumed by industrial cultures.  Sugar and refined flour are problems, of course — but so is any kind of wheat flour, and grains should be consumed sparingly and carefully.

Throughout most of our evolutionary history, we have not had access to grains, let alone the refined flour from which most Americans get their carbs these days.  Back in the day, we got our carbohydrates in the form of fruit and sometimes tubers.  When we did consume grain, it was fermented and processed in such a way as to break down the gluten, rendering it more useful to our digestive systems.  Apparently sourdough is sometimes a way to do this if the sourdough is “properly prepared”.  I wish I know what that meant.

Which gets me to the crazy-making part.

How is anyone, let alone anyone with ADD, supposed to keep track of nutrition research?  It’s a nightmare clusterf*ck of vested business interests, government subsidies, and tainted science.  And then, even if you do decide to experiment with your diet, it’s not always easy to track down grass-fed milk, eggs, and cheese.  If you can track it down, it’s damned expensive.

However, those of us with ADD are a population that suffers disproportionately from overweight and related metabolic syndrome.  While I do not reduce a complex syndrome like ADHD to a “food allergy” that can be “cured” with diet, the fact is that nutrition plays a huge role in controlling my own symptoms.

Sadly, finding decent information about nutrition is extremely difficult — and that’s why I was happy to find Stephen Guyenet’s site.  Guyenet’s posts are rigorous while remaining accessible to the layperson.  He supports his points with hard data.  When he comes across a flawed study, he takes its authors to task for everything from methodological flaws, to cherry-picking data, to sloppy language (what exactly was in that “high fat diet” that you studied?).

If you’re considering amending your diet to treat your AD/HD, Whole Health Source is absolutely worth perusing.

Seriously.  I’m an American.  Who doesn’t eat enough fat. Obviously I am a commie pinko traitor who hates all that we stand for in this country.

I learned this after complaining to my physical therapist/trainer today that I’m gaining weight.   I was frustrated, because [...]]]> I have been informed that my diet does not contain enough fat.

Seriously.  I’m an American.  Who doesn’t eat enough fat. Obviously I am a commie pinko traitor who hates all that we stand for in this country.

I learned this after complaining to my physical therapist/trainer today that I’m gaining weight.   I was frustrated, because I had recently added an extra half-hour of cardio onto my workouts.  The extra cardio made me exhausted later in the day unless I ate more, but it seemed like no matter how much I ate, I was always ravenous.

My trainer asked me to describe my diet.  Protein, carbs, some fat, and ideally some greens at breakfast.  Protein shake and a banana after working out.  Low-fat protein, carbs, greens at lunch.  A bit of trail mix for a snack.  Bean-based vegetable stew for dinner, with a slice of bread, and more greens.  Except sometimes I just couldn’t stop eating the damn trail mix.

“That sounds really good,” he said.  “But you should try to work  a bit more fat in there, especially at lunch.  A few slices of avocado should do it.”

It seems my problem was a fairly common one.  The extra cardio made extra metabolic demands, and triggered my body into starvation mode.  Body thinks it’s starving, sends hunger signals to the brain, yada yada yada, you’re hungry all the time, and your body tells you to take a nap to conserve calories, so you lay down fat instead of the muscle you’re need in order to do that extra cardio.

The stupid thing is, that for much of the winter I had been having a some guacamole with my lunch.  I loved it.  I get the avocados at my local farmers’ market, so they’re super fresh, and my lunches were incredibly tasty — but I felt slightly guilty, thinking that I didn’t really need that extra fat.  Then, several weeks ago, I heard a program about research into food addiction and nutrition on the local NPR station.  Fats and sugars, apparently, trigger dopamine in much the same way as addictive drugs like opiates.  This means that when you start eating them, it’s hard to stop.  Of course, your body needs carbohydrates and fats in order to function.  “But,” said one of the guests on the program, “if you live in America today there’s very little chance you aren’t getting enough fat.”

“Wow,” I thought, “he has a really good point.  I really don’t need those extra fat calories from those avocados.  Besides, the dopamine system is the one that goes haywire in ADD, which is probably why that guacamole tastes so incredibly good.  I’ll stop eating it.”  And I did, and I felt virtuous.

If I’d stopped to think about what he said, I would have realized that I was committing a logical fallacy.  I inferred from the fact that I live in America, and the standard American diet is high in fat, that my diet was therefore high in fat (it’s the fallacy of division, kids! Yay!) .  The problem here is that I do not eat the standard American diet.  I’m a vegetarian, and that simple fact alone means that my diet is not “standard”.  It does not necessarily follow that any vegetarian diet is low in fat, but mine is — because I take scrupulous pains to make sure it’s healthy and balanced, because if I don’t, I experience brain fail.

Of course, if I’d stopped to think at all, I would have realized that it’s stupid to change a diet that’s working for you based on a throwaway line from a radio show, even if the person speaking it happens to be a neuroscientist who studies the effects of addiction and nutrition on the brain.  Yeah, fat triggers dopamine, and yeah, that means it can be addictive — but, as the neuroscientist would have been happy to tell me, sometimes dopamine is triggered for very good reasons.  Those guacamole soy-chicken wraps tasted probably tasted wonderful because they contained what my body needed.

Obviously, I didn’t stop to think.  My decision to deprive myself of that tasty, tasty guacamole was based on an almost unconscious equation of  “deprivation” with “virtue”, and the assumption that what I saw as morally “good” was going to be “good” for me (another logical fallacy, btw).

There’s probably a whole essay here about the Obesity Epidemic(tm) and the media.  Why was I so quick to assume that there was something wrong with how I eat?  Why did I take that off-hand statement to heart, when my weight is Normal(tm) and I’m in excellent health?  How many other people out there take statements like that to heart, and inadvertently sabotage their own health and fitness in the process?  And how can we have a much-needed national conversation about health, exercise, and nutrition when it’s all so damned complicated?

That’s an essay for another day.  In the mean time, I’ve learned a lot from the aftermath of that fateful decision to forgo those few ounces of guacamole:

1. Nutrition, while basically simple, is very sensitive to individual situations.

2.  Self-deprivation for its own sake is super lame.

3.  My body can tell me what it needs, and I should damn well listen to it.

4.  In spite of my Liberal Arts Education(tm), which trained me in the rigors of Critical Thinking(tm), I am just as vulnerable as anyone else to making irrational, emotionally-driven choices.

and

5.  Did I mention my body is smarter than I am?

For now, I’ve reinstated that guacamole, and after only one day I already feel much better.  I didn’t get ravenous in the afternoon, I didn’t fall asleep, my mood was stable, and I could even focus mentally.  Virtue can go to hell.