Contagious Katilin

     “KAITLIN…I…LOVE…YOU!” Between every gasp for air, Kaitlin lets out a laugh. Tears stream down her skinny, pale face from laughing so hard. From an outside perspective I would look like the biggest jerk in town. There she was, this frail, helpless, obviously handicapped little child, and I was yelling at her. From a distance you would only see the tears, hear the faint breathing, and assume she was in pain by the way her body gathered together as if she was back in the womb. What you wouldn't know is that being yelled at is her favorite thing.

            Outside her immediate family no one in their right mind has the guts to yell at her, including her great-grandma, Aida, who thinks it’s pure evil. For the longest time Great Grandma and Kaitlin were the best of friends. They had one special thing in common; they both used wheel chairs, then eventually walkers. This is because Kaitlin was born with cerebral palsy, which is caused by injuries or abnormalities of the brain.

            Doctors told her family time after time that her disability would hold her back from talking, walking, eating normal food, going to normal schools, and everything in between. Her mother has nothing short of perfect hearing, but she just wouldn't hear it. She knew Kaitlin could do anything she wanted to; beat the odds, be that one in a million chance.

            At first it seemed doctors were right because progression didn't come easily in Kaitlin’s life. It seemed every time she started to move forward, there would be another setback. At one year old, and only thirteen pounds, Kaitlin spent most of her time on her back, still so weak that she couldn't even roll over. One day her older brother, Davis, was running from their tickle monster of a grandpa, not looking where he was going, and accidentally stepped on her foot. A scream similar to a baby’s first cry burst from her little mouth. With legs like twigs it was obvious Davis’s sixty pound body was too much, and that’s all it took to break her leg. Hot pink cast weighed almost as much as she did.   

            As Kaitlin healed, she started to progress. At two years old Kaitlin was finally strong enough to sit up on her own. Her cute little head would wobble around like a bobble-head on the car’s dashboard. Her bright blue eyes struggled every second to stay straight and focused, but the right eye could never keep up. Her milk-chocolate colored hair was cut into a bob with straight bangs. Drool soaked her red, chapped lips and drizzled down her chin and onto whatever toy she had on her lap. Typically it was a soft blue and white teddy bear that played the song “I Am a Child of God” when you pulled on both ends.

            There is one thing Kaitlin needs in life and that’s music. When asked what  Kaitlin loves, her mother made it very clear “Music, movies, music, attention, music, being yelled at, music, rides and bumpy roads, and music.” Kaitlin needs music like a fish needs water. Music helps silence her every cry, calm her every fear, and comfort her every worry. Without the right songs playing, at the right volume, Kaitlin will throw a tantrum, no matter how old she gets. Her family knows better than to play anything in her pink princess CD player other than Disney music or Connie Talbet, a famous ten year old singer. The same CDs are repeated all day, every day. If you live in her house you know every word to every song; you also now hate every word to every one of those songs. 

In Kaitlin’s world there is no such thing as a bad hair day, an “I have nothing to wear” day, or a dramatic “I hate my life, I’m just going to stay in bed today” day. None of that ever matters to her. She lives a carefree lifestyle where she can entertain herself for hours. She will do anything and everything to keep happy. Kaitlin’s mother describes Kaitlin’s life by saying, “She's happy even though she's never experienced the things we consider wonderful: chocolate ice cream, a first kiss, roller coaster ride, a funny movie, getting a good grade, or winning a race.”

It took year’s worth of work and diligence for her to beat the odds and start walking with a walker. At age seven she outgrew the wheel chair, walker, and luckily even her family. They no longer needed to carry her like a baby on their hips. Step by step Kaitlin started to understand more in life.

She uses her brain to communicate to her muscles in order to focus her bright blues eyes. She studies every move, of those around her, and learns to mimic, what she sees. After learning how to walk, she learned to hand someone her bottle and a can of Pediasure when she was hungry or a diaper and wipes when she needed to be changed. She has learned to control her massively long tongue in order to swallow regular food. She is now just like her four brothers who practically inhale a whole casserole in one meal. This eleven year old means business.

Kaitlin goes to school five days a week, from eight a.m. to three p.m., just like everyone else. Hers is not a typical school though. She gets to swing on a swing for hours, finger paint, sit in a wheel chair and stare at the wall, eat toys, and be fed by others. She never has homework or any assignments and they get to go on some awesome field trips.

Kaitlin’s family has loved watching her progress over the years. According to her cousin, Kayci, “It’s been hard watching her struggle, but it is amazing to watch her be triumphant over the little things like eating, walking, or being responsive to the environment around her.” Her family doesn't believe the doctors when they say she will never be like the average human being. “She will grow and learn and progress, but she will never outgrow her disability” claimed her mother. She might not talk or understand what we say but she is nothing short of a best friend. She is always there for you, loves watching movies with you, and makes you laugh. In Kaitlin’s family it is considered a blessing she doesn't talk; she knows all their secrets and would tell.

It has been an intense, painful, scary, and emotional roller coaster helping her grow up. Her siblings lost countless nights of sleep, days under the California sun with their friends, money for things they wanted because Kaitlin had hospital bills, and time because they were her babysitters at least four times a week. Helping her grow up made them lose a lot of their childhood. They needed to grow up fast, be strong, take one for the team. Back then her oldest sister cried herself to sleep at times, angry that taking care of Kaitlin was consuming her life. Now, after being away from home for a couple of years, her sister cries herself to sleep begging for the times when she had her by her side. Kaitlin is her greatest joy in life.

Her smile lights up a room better than any nightlight. Her laugh is so contagious it turns any bad day into a good one. With every hug you feel warmth, a sense of love and gratitude. With every tear she sheds you feel her pain. When Kaitlin is happy you can’t help but be happy too, every ounce of her is contagious. Kaitlin is God’s angel on earth, sent here to watch over the family, keep them together, and teach them more then anyone could ever learn at any school. In my family, Kaitlin is the center puzzle piece, it is through her that we all go together perfectly.