Yea, I'm a certified success, struggle, and suffering story all rolled into one handsome man. When I was little, I had a speech impediment, a slur, a stutter, and a lisp. No only was that horrible because no one could understand me when my speech impediment prevented me from saying "stutter" which became "stuwda" which people mistook for "strudel" which really sucked because all my classmates used to think my disability was a delicious breakfast treat, my lisp made each word somewhat inaudible because which ever bastard named these disabilities put an "s" in each of them, my stutter made me convert words into something else or took me a half hour to say the word I wanted, and my slur made the entire sentence perfectly inaudible if it already wasn't. Needless to say, while my parents thought it was cute and recorded countless hours of me talking which they bring out whenever I bring female companions or new friends up to the house my teachers thought I was mentally retarded and put me in special education classes. I loved special education classes. You get an "A" for accuracy, in reference to being able to plop a dump in the toilet. Then the anti-Christ of teachers became employed and realized I was actually just milking my disabilities and that with speech therapy I could speak normally and that I needed to be enrolled into regular classes immediately. I hated her like Jerry Falwell hates pseudo-gay syndicated television children's' characters. She took me into her office for three years until, against my will, I was able to speak like a regular person. Even today this angers me, they took away from me my God given uniqueness. This story, however, taught me one thing: obviously milking a disability to get out of life's trials and tribulations causes people to want to fix the disability as soon as possibly, I mean why do you think there is such a stress on finding the cure for cancer and syphilis, gonorrhea, hepatitis A, both B's, and C are pushed aside?