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Phyllis Burdge had the first (official) service dog in the state of Kansas. She worked with Jerry Moran (now Congressman, then first term state senator) on the writing and passage of legislation guaranteeing full public access to service dogs for physically disabled people. After spontaneous remission from multiple sclerosis she completed graduate school in Indiana, hospital chaplain residency in Colorado and two AmeriCorps VISTA terms in Kansas. November 20 marks the date in 1998 that she took the first steps in over twelve years. On November 20, 2005 Burdge and her service dog Justice begin the PB&J American WalkAbout through which they traverse America on foot to share the story of renewal and hope.
FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)
In the physical therapy department is a sign that reads:
DETERMINATION
The race isn't always to the swift ....
But to those who keep on running.
I'm not yet running, but I'm walking--around America!
By Phyllis Burdge
The boon and bane of multiple sclerosis (MS) is that it changes. In my case MS changed from exacerbating/remitting to chronic progressive, taking a downward turn. The word "plummeting" comes to mind. I lay on a bed all day long. Regardless of what went on in the world, I lay on the bed too weak to function. I was catheterized. I used oxygen because my muscles were too weak to draw sufficient air into my lungs. My hands were clenched tightly into fists. I took medicine by the handfuls for nerve pain, muscle spasms and infection control. According to my neurologist's prognosis I could expect to grow increasingly weaker and more susceptible to infections. She believed that I would succumb to an infection that I could neither ward off nor withstand, and she believed the time I had left on this earth was relatively short.
I'm not young but neither am I old, not that it matters. I remember Woodstock, Kent State and Vietnam. It looked as if I wouldn't see the outcome of Y2K. I did not resign myself to living out the doctor's prognosis; I did not curl up and wait to die although weakness, in fact, immobilized me. I had a feeding tube for the frequent occasions when I couldn't swallow. Exhaustion came with the slightest activity. Frequently, I was so fatigued that things as simple as combing my hair were impossible to accomplish without help. It's hard to paint a clear image using only shades of gray, and it's no easier to describe this period of my life.
I struggled to live, day to day, sometimes one hour to the next. I anticipated neither death nor health. I simply existed.
Then it happened . . . I first noticed improvement in endurance and strength. I enjoyed more function without it exhausting me or throwing my body into muscle spasms. I could see to read! Breaths came easier! I spent more time in the wheelchair instead of on the bed. I went outdoors!
I went on a road trip in May. I discontinued the catheter in June. I began visiting a lady in a nursing home down the street. I motored there in my power wheelchair. I began standing and later transferred myself with the help of Isaac, my service dog. In September I discontinued the feeding tube.
I started occupational and physical therapy. On November 20, I walked! For the first time in twelve years, I walked! Ever since taking those first steps in the fall of 1998, I have grown steadily stronger. I speak to audiences and share experiences of my extraordinary journey. I have encountered discrimination in the employment arena, but I have become convinced that my calling is not to fight for the right to work a 9 to 5, 40-hour week but rather to speak messages of hope and individual value and other priceless lessons that arose from a long and debilitating illness.
I have no illusions about being singled out for some special mission. No, I was simply fortunate. I was lucky enough to receive a spontaneous remission. I may relapse at any time. I know that. And so I live as fully as I possibly can, every single day that I am alive. In the talks that I share with audiences, I encourage each of them to live fully also.
In November of 2005 I embark on a self-designed adventure to walk around America, speaking to audiences and increasing awareness of the potential that exists in individuals who are too often discounted because of disability or age or any other single and arbitrary factor. I will walk around America with my cane, my leg brace, and my service dog ("Justice"), telling my story and leaving a little more hope in my path as I move on . . . along the PB&J American WalkAbout.
September 26, 2003 PB&J graduated from the service dog program at KSDS, Michelle Woerner, Service Dog Trainer and Training Coordinator; KSDS, an ADI accredited facility
September 27, 2001 - Justice, a black Labrador retriever, came into the world shortly after America was shaken by 9-11. Her litter of seven, all females and all black, were named according to a patriotic theme. As of their 4th birthday, three are service dogs, two are guide dogs, one is a social dog, and one is a pet. What a litter!
Justice was given her basic obedience training and socialization by KSDS Puppy Raisers Tom, Judy and Ashley Sifers of Granby CO, a family near and dear to the hearts of PB&J! Justice also received intermediate training at Topeka Correctional Facility before returning to KSDS for formal training.
Phyllis is available for speaking ...
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