Chapter 2

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When I was five, I was to be enrolled in Walter Knollman's School for the Disabled. What a name, I know! Anyways, my mother was convinced that I was smarter than any other child who went to that school. She took me to a specialist for "professional examination." Remember how I said that my Cerebral Palsy caused my body to pretty much be frozen? Good. Now remember that and see what the first thing out of my doctor's mouth was-

"Harper, can you point to the blue block?"

Wow. What a doctor he was. I mean seriously, he took like eight EXTRA years of college for this?

Anyways, before my mother could even point out how I couldn't move he was on to the next question.

"Ok Harper, how about this one; how many apples are on this page? Just tell me the answer."

Ok. Now I'm thinking this guy CHEATED his way through college. Once again, he gave me about thirty seconds to answer, and when I didn't, he scribbled down something on his yellow sketchpad.

This is how the "examination" went on for an HOUR. Imagine you are being pounded with these stupid questions from a doctor who seems to think that since he is asking the question, some sort of response will come out of me.

At the end, he tells my mom-

"It seems to me that Harper is mentally retarded. Have you consulted a professional psychiatrist?"

Oh, boy did my mom get mad. I think the correct phrase for her response is brimming with steam.

"It seems as though we have COMPLETELY WASTED an hour of our time, have we not?(No response). Did you even ask what we were here for? No. Did you even ask why she was in a wheelchair or why she wasn't talking or moving correctly? No. What kind of doctor are you?..."

Well, I can see how you think thi-," Is all he could mutter before my mother interrupted.

"Well, we are going to get that confirmation for my amazingly talented daughter to go to kindergarten at a NORMAL elementary school." Then she pulled out my implants and asked him many questions that I obviously couldn't hear. (I'm pretty sure that's a good thing)

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