Each one of you out there who has friended my FB social media world has known me from a miniscule morsel of my life up to those who now have a mammoth mouthful of who I have been and who I am becoming, for better or worse ;-), depending on who you are and how you have known me. 

My thalidomide story starts with nearly the same story as many of my co-members: denial and shame. The doctors, nurses, and family members present at my birth were shocked, dismayed, and horrified. My Mom’s “adoptive” mother even told her, “See what you get for being such a difficult child!” when she saw me for the first time. The doctors told my parents that they had no idea why I was born with my malformations. 

My parents, but especially my father, raised me with the idea that there was no such word as can’t. I did everything that my siblings did, especially my younger brothers. I washed dishes, set the table, vacuumed, cooked, went to school, climbed trees, shot hoops, hit & caught baseballs, rode bikes, you-name-it – I did it, one way or another. No one that I knew, though, was stared at, followed, or questioned like I was. I, somehow, still needed to keep going out into the public to prove myself. I tied the shoes of numerous men while younger for a quarter – a circus trick, I guess. By the time I was 30, I no longer wanted to go out into public anymore. I would tell my sister when asked to go out “garage saling” with her, “I’m not in a Hollywood mood.” Also, after 30-some teaching interviews that I came in “second place,” I was finally hired in the public school system where I worked for 30 years. Every year there, I also taught about how birth defects might happen – without the mention of thalidomide.

All of my life I had been told by doctors at the Shriners Children’s Hospital that my birth defects were not caused by thalidomide as it was never approved by the U.S. government. No other doctor, as I grew older, would ever tell me differently during all of those years. As I was coming to retirement, I started searching out thalidomide people on Facebook and there they were.., and there I was as well. At the same time, my thalidomide-malformed right shoulder began to make it impossible for me to use my right shoulder and arm. Surgery became imminent. After being declined by one surgeon to do the corrective surgery, I met a surgeon who said yes, and for the first time in my life at 66 years old, he wrote in my medical chart that my birth defect arms were caused by thalidomide without any input from me. This brought me to tears as I felt that an injured part of me was finally seen and being allowed to begin healing. I had finally truly been seen. This is a part of where I am beginning the journey of this next part of my life. 

I’m asking all of you to donate to the USA Thalidomide Survivors (a small nonprofit), of whom I now belong for more than a year. It encourages you to join us as we again prepare to go back to the U.S. Congress this coming September 2025 to support USA Thalidomide Survivors in our fight for justice. Our mission is to bring awareness, support, and advocacy to those born with defects from our mothers being given thalidomide during pregnancy. 

Note #1 – I am a “lucky” thalidomide survivor. I have had great health benefits and continue to have these. This cannot be said for all the rest of my co-member friends.

Note #2 – Please feel free to share this story to those who you believe would care about this or that this would make a difference for them in their lives.