having a MENTALLY RETARDED member in the family--how do you cope?

[chinatown]

sa mga may kapamilyang MR, i hope you would oblige me with your anwers. thanks.

[chinatown]

i-pm nyo nalang :)

[Crusher]

Treat him like he/she is a normal kid or person.

Talk to him/her as you would talk to anybody else. Do not try to be patronizing or condescending. Show respect. If you were in hie/her position or situation you would want to be treated with respect to. The golden rule alwasy applies to every case:
"Do unto others as you would want others do unto you!"

Has anybody heard about ""Pay it forward?" Just curious.

[eileen_m]

i think you just have to accept the person kahit na naiiba *** kasi , it's not his fault na ganun sha. and shempre,look at it this way , the person is insecure na nga about his condition tapos y would you make him feel worse diba . Something like that

[chinatown]

are u two speaking from experience?

[rose_guce]

The sad fact about people having Down Syndrome is that they don't get to spend much time with us. Binabawi kaagad sila ng Diyos. My boyfriend's youngest brother has down syndrome. He died at 18. He was such a very loving boy. He visits me and calls me at home.

He tried living a normal life despite of his incapacity. He tried working at one point in his life because he never wants to ask for money from his family. But then, people are really cruel. His relatives considered him as a disgrace to the family. The people around him made fun of him. They taught him how to smoke and drink. This triggered his death. He died of broncho pneumonia.

People say that I might have the chance of having a special child in the future too because it runs in my boyfriend's family. When the time comes, I wish I can be brave enough to teach him about the wonders of loving and being loved. I wish the society would be mature enough not to call him a disgrace but instead treat him as a special child and a gift from God.

I still miss Joey so much. Admist my busy routine, I would stop and cry and think about him. Sayang. Sana mas minahal ko pa sya. Sana mas ipinaramdam ko sa kanya na "ate" nya ako.....

[rose_guce]

I was then an only child who had everything I could ever want. But
even a pretty, spoiled and rich kid could get lonely once in a while, so when
Mom told me that she was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I imagined how
wonderful you would be and how we'd always be together and how much you
would look like me.

So, when you were born, I looked at your tiny hands and feet and
marveled at how beautiful you were. We took you home and I showed you
proudly to my friends. They would touch you and sometimes pinch you, but
you never reacted. When you were five months old, some things began to
bother Mom. You seemed so unmoving and numb, and your cry sounded odd --
almost like a kitten's.

So we brought you to many doctors. The thirteenth doctor who looked at you
quietly said you have the "cry du chat" (pronounced kree-do-sha) syndrome, 'cry
of the cat' in French. When I asked what that meant, he looked at me with pity
and softly said, "Your brother will never walk nor talk." The doctor told us
that it is a condition that afflicts one in 50,000 babies, rendering victims
severely retarded.

Mom was shocked and I was furious. I thought it was unfair. When we went home,
Mom took you in her arms and cried. I looked at you and realized that word
would get around that you're not normal. So to hold on to my popularity, I did
the unthinkable ... I disowned you.

Mom and Dad didn't know, but I steeled myself not to love you as you grew. Mom
and Dad showered you with love and attention and that made me bitter. And
as the years passed, that bitterness turned to anger, and then hate.

Mom never gave up on you. She knew she had to do it for your sake. Every time
she put your toys down, you'd roll instead of crawl. I watched her heart break
every time she took away your toys and strapped your tummy with foam so you
couldn't roll. You'd struggle and you'd cry in that pitiful way, the cry of the
kitten. But she still didn't give up. Then one day, you defied what all
your doctors said -- you crawled.

When Mom saw this, she knew that you would eventually walk. So when you were
still crawling at age four, she'd put you on the grass with only your diapers on
knowing that you'd hate the feel of the grass your skin, and smile at your
discomfort.

You would crawl to the sidewalk and Mom would put you back.

Again and again, Mom repeated this on the lawn. Until one day, Mom saw
you pull yourself up and toddle off the grass as fast as your little legs
could carry you.

Laughing and crying, she shouted for Dad and I to come.

Dad hugged you crying openly. I watched from my bedroom window this
heartbreaking scene.

Over the years, Mom taught you to speak, read and write. From then
on, I would sometimes see you walk outside, smell the flowers, marvel at
the birds, or just smile at no one. I began to see the beauty of the world
around me, the simplicity of life and the wonders of this world, through
your eyes. It was then, that I realized that you were my brother, and no
matter how much I tried to hate you, I couldn't, because I had grown to
love you.

During the next few days, we again became acquainted with each other.

I would buy you toys and give you all the love that a sister could ever
give to her brother. You would reward me by smiling and hugging me.
But I guess, you were never really meant for us. On your tenth birthday,
you felt severe headaches.

The doctor's diagnosis -- leukemia.

Mom gasped and Dad held her, while I fought hard to keep my tears from falling.
At that moment, I loved you all the more. I couldn't even bear to leave your
side.

Then the doctors told us that your only hope was to have a bone marrow
transplant.

You became the subject of a nationwide donor search. When at last we found the
right match, you were too sick, and the doctor reluctantly ruled out the
operations.

Since then, you've underwent chemotherapy and radiation.

Even at the end, you continued to pursue life. Just a month before you died,
you made me draw up a list of things you wanted to do when you got out of the
hospital. Two days after the list was completed, you asked the doctors to send
you home.

There, we ate ice cream and cake, ran across the grass, flew kites, went
fishing, took pictures of one another and let the balloons fly.

I remember the last conversation that we had. You said that if you die,
and if I need help, I could send you a note to heaven by tying it on the string
of a balloon and letting it fly.

When you said this, I started crying. Then you hugged me. Then again, for the
last time, you got sick.

That last night, you asked for water, a back rub, a cuddle. Finally, you went
into seizure with tears streaming down your face. Later, at the hospital, you
struggled to talk but the words wouldn't come.

I know what you wanted to say. "I hear you," I whispered. And for the last
time, I said, "I'll always love you and I will never forget you.

Don't be afraid. You'll soon be with God in heaven."

Then, with my tears flowing freely, I watched the bravest boy I had ever known
finally stop breathing.

Dad, Mom and I cried until I felt as if there were no more tears left.

Patrick was finally gone, leaving us behind.

From then on, you were my source of inspiration.

You showed me how to love life and live life to the fullest.

With your simplicity and honesty, you showed me a world full of love and
caring. And you made me realize that the most important thing in this life
is to continue loving without asking why or how and without setting any
limits.

Thank you, my little brother, for all these.

Your sister,
Sarah



I hope this encourages you as much as it has encouraged mine. It made me think of our Joey for a while. It's really touching.

[rose_guce]

I was then an only child who had everything I could ever want. But
even a pretty, spoiled and rich kid could get lonely once in a while, so when
Mom told me that she was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I imagined how
wonderful you would be and how we'd always be together and how much you
would look like me.

So, when you were born, I looked at your tiny hands and feet and
marveled at how beautiful you were. We took you home and I showed you
proudly to my friends. They would touch you and sometimes pinch you, but
you never reacted. When you were five months old, some things began to
bother Mom. You seemed so unmoving and numb, and your cry sounded odd --
almost like a kitten's.

So we brought you to many doctors. The thirteenth doctor who looked at you
quietly said you have the "cry du chat" (pronounced kree-do-sha) syndrome, 'cry
of the cat' in French. When I asked what that meant, he looked at me with pity
and softly said, "Your brother will never walk nor talk." The doctor told us
that it is a condition that afflicts one in 50,000 babies, rendering victims
severely retarded.

Mom was shocked and I was furious. I thought it was unfair. When we went home,
Mom took you in her arms and cried. I looked at you and realized that word
would get around that you're not normal. So to hold on to my popularity, I did
the unthinkable ... I disowned you.

Mom and Dad didn't know, but I steeled myself not to love you as you grew. Mom
and Dad showered you with love and attention and that made me bitter. And
as the years passed, that bitterness turned to anger, and then hate.

Mom never gave up on you. She knew she had to do it for your sake. Every time
she put your toys down, you'd roll instead of crawl. I watched her heart break
every time she took away your toys and strapped your tummy with foam so you
couldn't roll. You'd struggle and you'd cry in that pitiful way, the cry of the
kitten. But she still didn't give up. Then one day, you defied what all
your doctors said -- you crawled.

When Mom saw this, she knew that you would eventually walk. So when you were
still crawling at age four, she'd put you on the grass with only your diapers on
knowing that you'd hate the feel of the grass your skin, and smile at your
discomfort.

You would crawl to the sidewalk and Mom would put you back.

Again and again, Mom repeated this on the lawn. Until one day, Mom saw
you pull yourself up and toddle off the grass as fast as your little legs
could carry you.

Laughing and crying, she shouted for Dad and I to come.

Dad hugged you crying openly. I watched from my bedroom window this
heartbreaking scene.

Over the years, Mom taught you to speak, read and write. From then
on, I would sometimes see you walk outside, smell the flowers, marvel at
the birds, or just smile at no one. I began to see the beauty of the world
around me, the simplicity of life and the wonders of this world, through
your eyes. It was then, that I realized that you were my brother, and no
matter how much I tried to hate you, I couldn't, because I had grown to
love you.

During the next few days, we again became acquainted with each other.

I would buy you toys and give you all the love that a sister could ever
give to her brother. You would reward me by smiling and hugging me.
But I guess, you were never really meant for us. On your tenth birthday,
you felt severe headaches.

The doctor's diagnosis -- leukemia.

Mom gasped and Dad held her, while I fought hard to keep my tears from falling.
At that moment, I loved you all the more. I couldn't even bear to leave your
side.

Then the doctors told us that your only hope was to have a bone marrow
transplant.

You became the subject of a nationwide donor search. When at last we found the
right match, you were too sick, and the doctor reluctantly ruled out the
operations.

Since then, you've underwent chemotherapy and radiation.

Even at the end, you continued to pursue life. Just a month before you died,
you made me draw up a list of things you wanted to do when you got out of the
hospital. Two days after the list was completed, you asked the doctors to send
you home.

There, we ate ice cream and cake, ran across the grass, flew kites, went
fishing, took pictures of one another and let the balloons fly.

I remember the last conversation that we had. You said that if you die,
and if I need help, I could send you a note to heaven by tying it on the string
of a balloon and letting it fly.

When you said this, I started crying. Then you hugged me. Then again, for the
last time, you got sick.

That last night, you asked for water, a back rub, a cuddle. Finally, you went
into seizure with tears streaming down your face. Later, at the hospital, you
struggled to talk but the words wouldn't come.

I know what you wanted to say. "I hear you," I whispered. And for the last
time, I said, "I'll always love you and I will never forget you.

Don't be afraid. You'll soon be with God in heaven."

Then, with my tears flowing freely, I watched the bravest boy I had ever known
finally stop breathing.

Dad, Mom and I cried until I felt as if there were no more tears left.

Patrick was finally gone, leaving us behind.

From then on, you were my source of inspiration.

You showed me how to love life and live life to the fullest.

With your simplicity and honesty, you showed me a world full of love and
caring. And you made me realize that the most important thing in this life
is to continue loving without asking why or how and without setting any
limits.

Thank you, my little brother, for all these.

Your sister,
Sarah

I hope this encourages you as much as it has encouraged me. It made me think of our own little Joey.

[toni_ann]

i have a niece and i am very fond of her... super, kc ako ang nag-alaga sa kanya...

i just don't know kung ano yung talagang twag sa case nya... pero nklgay sa findings meron sya partial MR... actually delayed ang development nya most especially *** speech nya.

ilan lang kming nakakaintindi sa gusto nya sabihin... that is what binds us i think. we share something special with our special niece... the ability to understand her kahit actually di nya ma-voice out straight *** gusto nya.

she is just so special and if you would be able to experience having one in the family, consider it as your blessing and personal sacrifice. shower her with TLC... yun lang ang maibibigay natin sa kanya na talagang ma-aapreciate nya.

anyway, these special kids give us more in return... their undying love and trust...

[DELISYUS]

try to rise above the SHAME that you may consciously or unconsciously feel....

see.....if you yourself is ashamed of talking about this person, or being seen with him...then your significant others will not like him too...and will be ashamed for you....

acceptance that there are people like him on earth......i know it's hard.....but it's all you really need to cope