Stories of Potential

The playroom of Kennedy Krieger Institute's Achievements program doesn't look like a typical child's playroom. There are no blocks, books, dolls or trucks lining the shelves or scattered about the floor. In fact, the room seems practically devoid of toys, those things that inspire the imaginations of children but it's not.

Few experiences thrill a parent more than the first time they hear their child say "mama" or "dada." Those words, often a baby's first, are usually followed by a flurry of new ones, and eventually phrases, thoughts, questions and observations that give parents constantly new glimpses of the unique person their child is becoming.

Not long ago, no one would have imagined that Mani El-Mahdi would hold a job or complete a project without someone watching his every move. His behavior was just too unpredictable. Diagnosed with autism, Mani displayed the most severe symptoms of the disorder: he kicked, punched, disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Like all siblings, the six Simmons girls are unique in almost every way. Adopted in early childhood by Betty Simmons of Baltimore and her late husband Gregory, they have their individual interests, temperaments and strengths. But they also share much in common, in particular some serious cognitive, and possibly behavioral, issues that may be the result of prenatal alcohol exposure.

Ashley Melvin had a blast this summer swimming at camp, walking her dog in her Eastern Shore hometown, celebrating her Sweet Sixteen at a bowling alley.

What a difference a year makes. In August 2002, paramedics rushed to Ashley's house when she fell and her frightened grandparents realized they couldn't help her get up. At 397 lbs, Ashley was dangerously overweight. The teen depended on oxygen 24 hours a day and her feet had swollen so large she could not wear shoes.

As she typed the words into the Internet search engine, Loretta McRae knew it was a long shot. In the months since the 15-year-old struck her head on an ocean sandbar in Australia, sustaining a C6 level spinal cord injury, virtually every expert said she'd already gotten her miracle. She was alive, she could wiggle her toes, she was regaining sensation in her limbs.

Liza Patchel has grown used to being told of the many things she will never do. Diagnosed with cerebral palsy as an infant, doctors said she would never speak or walk. When she enrolled in public school, administrators said she would never play for their sports teams. Even as she studied her way to good grades, "experts" told Liza that she would never go to college.

Adolescence isn't easy it's a tough road filled with all sorts of risky possibilities, from school failure and conflict with parents to more dangerous threats like involvement in drugs and gangs.

Each year, Kennedy Krieger Institute's Center for Development and Learning evaluates and treats several thousand children with ADHD. The evaluation includes a detailed medical, developmental and behavioral history of the child.

When Krystal Spencer came to Kennedy Krieger for her regular clinic visit in September, she couldn't resist showing off her baby son Justin. A Kennedy Krieger patient for more than a decade, Spencer is a familiar face to many of the physicians, nurses and therapists in the Outpatient department all of whom were thrilled to see that one of their patient had delivered a healthy baby boy.