Let me start things off by saying, “Hi, my name is Sherese and I have Erb’s Palsy. In my left arm to be exact.”
Now that we got that out the way, you’re probably wondering “What in the world is Erb’s Palsy?” I’m here to tell you all about it, how I got it, and how it has somewhat impacted my life. The day my mother went into to labor, everything was as it should. The doctor prepared to deliver me, the nurses tried to ease my mother’s pain, and my father and family members were by my mother’s side. Then of course, the birth of a queen happened. (Lol I’m just joking…no I’m not.)
In all seriousness my mother, along with my family, thought it was a regular smooth sailing birth. Then, the nurse brought me to my mother. Of course, my mother does what most new mothers do, to pick up one of my little hands to see if I would squeeze her finger, which I did. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was when she let my hand go, it just plopped back down to my side like it was lifeless. My mother with a confused and with a terrified look on her face, she picked my hand back up and let it go again just to double check she saw what she saw. And uhhhhhh…. She saw what she saw.
To make a long story short, the doctor diagnosed me with Erb’s Palsy which I might add was the DOCTOR’s fault. Yeah, the DOCTOR. (I will be putting DOCTOR in all caps from now on to emphasize the frustration that mother probably had finding this out) The DOCTOR decided he didn’t what to take his time and properly deliver me from my mother’s womb LIKE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO. He didn’t make a large enough incision to carefully deliver me. Instead, he took both of my shoulders and twisted them like, he was using my shoulders as a steering wheel to drive down Lombard Street in San Francisco (please google to see the curves on that street and then picture a grown man twisting a 9-pound baby in that same matter).
Crazy right?! Oh, and guess what? MY MOTHER DIDN’T SUE!!! Why you ask? Well I’m asking the same thing!
My mom said that she initially tried but, her lawyer said this was something that was common in children; and it would be hard to sue the hospital itself along with suing the DOCTOR on the basis that it was his fault that I was the way I was.
Erb’s Palsy is scientifically described as a form of brachial plexus palsy (try saying that 5 times). Brachial plexus is the collectiveness of nerves near the neck that provides movement to the arms, shoulder, hands, and fingers. Now, I will say that the type of Erb’s palsy I have is nowhere near the severity that most children endure and for that I am very grateful. Most children with this only have function and movement in the arm that doesn’t have Erb’s Palsy unlike me, who has a substantial amount of movement (almost completely normal movement) in the arm with the diagnoses. The thing with me is that it’s not completely straight like an arm should be. So, when I walk, it looks like my left arm is broken or bent. And this right here (I know y’all just sung that part in Soulja Boy’s voice) is where my insecurity came from.
Up until middle school, the way my arm looked didn’t even cross my mind. But of course, kids will be kids and point something out that doesn’t look quite right. In 6th grade, I was on my way to class when a little boy came up to me and asked my what happened. Confused, I said “What happened with what?” He replied “With your arm. Did you break it?” I said, “No why?” Not realizing that my arm is the way it is. Then the little boy goes, (very rudely I might add) “Well, if it’s not broken, why are you holding it like that?” and walked away. That little situation is what started it all. From that point on you never saw me with my left arm just straight down.
While walking, if I wore a bookbag I would hold on to one of the straps, same with a purse. If I didn’t wore some sort of bag, my left hand would be in the pocket of my pants or jacket. Now what if I didn’t have any type of bag or pockets? Very unlikely, but in that case, I would switch hands and hold my phone with my left hand and just fumble with it just, so my arm is not by my side until I got to my destination. This also goes for pictures as well. From middle school up to present day (which is a sophomore in college) you will never, I repeat YOU WILL NEVER find a single picture of me with both my arms down by my side. If I don’t have a purse or a bag or pockets, my hand will be on my hip. If I’m near some type of object like a car or a wall, I will lean my hand up against that. Or if I don’t want to do any of that, I will put both hand in front of me and kind of cuff them I guess to where both arms essentially look the same. I know this seems like a lot to do and remember on a daily basis, but when you do it for such long time it become a natural reaction that you (or I) just naturally do.
This insecurity of mine has definitely got in the way of things that I wanted to do career wise. All through high school I was very into modeling. But anyone who has seen any type of magazine or runway that models are in, they don’t have their hand on their hips 24/7 nor do they always have so sort of purse/bag on them. Most of the time especially with runway models their arms are by their side. This is why I struggled. I did go to modeling school where I couldn’t enjoy myself because I would be constantly told “make sure your arm is straight; straighten that arm out for the 100th time; why is she not listening to my directions?” Anybody who has been on any type of audition, knows it’s not in your best interest to try and correct the casting director of anything even if you have an unfixable birth defect. I’ve always had this fear that people wouldn’t focus on what I would be modeling, but instead be confused on why I’m holding my arm like that. Because of this fear, I don’t do professional modeling anymore.
However, I still enjoy being in front of a camera. As I got older, I soon began to realize that when I would point out to people what I had, most people didn’t even notice my arm looked any different than theirs. I don’t know if that’s because I’ve trained myself to hide it so well or that they genuinely didn’t notice. All in all, I realized that I have this insecurity and fear of people looking at something that 9 times out of 10 they don’t notice and don’t care about (in the nicest way possible). Or, they do notice and still don’t care about (in the nicest way possible). Don’t let something that is invisible to other people stop you from doing what you want to do, just because it’s visible to you.
XOXO, Sherese