On Jan. 6, 1995, Martha Chambers could brush her teeth and push her glasses up her nose. She was just like one of the kids when she played with them at her job with the Milwaukee Public Schools Recreation Department.
One day later, she was lying face-flat in the snow, her neck snapped, telling herself that she better keep breathing if she didn’t want to die.
Martha had been thrown from a horse while riding at a friend’s stables, and for the next four months, she was in a hospital bed, paralyzed from the neck down.
Throughout that time, she endured one surgery to place a metal plate in her neck to stabilize her “mushed” spinal cord, three months on a respirator and the endless reminders that she would never walk again.
She recalls the tiny celebrations at the hospital, like when she wiggled a pinky toe, and the delight that came when they learned she would be able to breathe on her own. Many quadriplegics must live with a respirator, which increases their risk of contracting outside disease.
Martha considers it a “big-time blessing” to take each breath on her own.
About two years after her accident, her therapy came to a plateau, and Martha knew she would be immobile from the neck down for the rest of her life. She also knew she could not just let life pass her by.
Going back to work with youth recreation was not really an option, so she interviewed for a job with United Cerebral Palsy of Southeastern Wisconsin (UCP) and was hired as an information referral specialist.
It wasn’t easy for Martha to re-learn even the simplest skills necessary for a desk job. When she’s not jetting around the office in a wheelchair that she controls with her head, Martha sits at a workplace full of resources that enable her to work just as efficiently as a mobile person.
She answers phone calls with a headset that is connected to her phone line. On her desk are two coffee cups, but instead of java, they each hold a stick about a foot long with what looks like a sports mouth guard on one end. She can lean over to put that end in her mouth, and on the other end is a thick rubber tip that lets her type and turn pages by moving the stick with her head. The tip of the other stick is a pen. When she demonstrates the use of that one, the word she writes is “Independence.”
While she certainly has re-taught herself how to perform many difficult tasks independently, Martha admits she never feels fully self-sufficient. She relies on professional caretakers and a good friend to do the tasks many people take for granted, such as get dressed in the morning, brush the hair out of her face or eat. However, Martha keeps a smile on her face when she needs something.
“Most of my life is spent asking for help,” she says. “I figure if I’m rude about it sometime, next time I need it, they’re not going to be too anxious to give it.”
It’s that positive outlook on her situation that kept Martha going strong after her accident. Her support comes from her family and friends, especially her late father, who was one of her “biggest cheerleaders.”
She also credits her co-workers and the UCP work environment with keeping her positive. Since UCP works with people with disabilities outside of cerebral palsy, Martha sees children with autism or developmental disabilities or people who have experienced accidents similar to hers. Her disability, she says, helps her have a stronger voice for the people she tries to help because she is more aware of the specific challenges they face.
Martha also has become a voice to businesses, advocating hiring people with disabilities to work in their offices. Her colleagues agree and add that Martha is living proof that an employee can be invaluable despite physical limitations.
“Whatever Martha tells you, she’s being too humble,” says co-worker Fred Hesselbein. “She is a superstar around here, and we’re lucky to have a woman like her.”
