Introduction
You can call me "JoJo." My name is Jose Martynov G. Calora. I was born in 1962 in Ithaca, New York, with congenital
deformities in my upper extremities. I have short arms, no elbows, and three fingers on each hand. The technical term
is phocomelia. My parents were shocked and saddened when I was born. They did not know what caused my congenital
deformities. We had no history of phocomelia in the family. My Dad was pursuing a doctorate at Cornell University,
my Mom and two older brothers were with him.
A few months after I was born and after my Dad earned his doctorate, we all moved back to the Philippines, where I grew up.
In the Philippines, my mother stumbled upon an article in Reader's Digest about thalidomide. After reading the article,
she remembered when she was given free sample medication by her physician for nausea from motion sickness. She
connected the dots and realized that my deformities may have been due to that free sample medication provided by her
physician. At that time, thalidomide samples were being given to patients by physicians. 2.5 million thalidomide samples were
distributed in the United States in the late '50s and early '60s before the pharmaceutical company was forced to withdraw their
New Drug Application (NDA) from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration due to reports of birth defects caused by thalidomide
embryopathy.
My parents did not know anything better than to send me to regular schools. In pre-school, my classmates were too young
and innocent to notice my limb difference. In elementary school, it was a different experience. I was the only child with limb
differences. I got used to other school children staring at my arms and hands, following me around the school to stare.
Eventually, the other school children got used to my presence in the school. As a teenager, the curvature of my spine became
more apparent. I had severe S-shaped scoliosis and a hump on the right side of my back. In high school, I was teased and
made fun of because of the hump on my back. I laughed it off. On the outside, I was a jolly and funny kid; deep inside, it hurt.
In college, I participated in extra-curricular activities and a handful of student organizations. I earned a Bachelor of Science in
Statistics from the University of the Philippines at Los BaƱos and then migrated back to the United States.
With five hundred dollars in pocket money from my parents and two suitcases of personal belongings, I moved back to
the United States. I initially stayed with an uncle until I could find a job and afford my own apartment. For my first job in New
Jersey, my employer, had to make sure that I could perform the job of an Insurance Rater/Coder. It involved reading big
and heavy rating manuals to find the applicable rate, performing simple math to calculate the insurance premium, and
relaying that information to the customer by phone. I found out from the person I used as my reference that they were
concerned about my capability to perform the job, most likely because of how my arms and hands looked. After working there
for a few months, I resigned and accepted a programmer trainee position at another insurance company. When I was still in
the Philippines, I took programming classes in the hopes of working as a computer programmer in the future. So this new job
was exciting to me. After completing my programmer training classes, I became a programmer analyst for that company.
Two years after working as a programmer analyst, I had spine surgery to prevent my scoliosis from further compressing my
left lung. My scoliosis was so severe that the orthopedic surgeons I consulted in New Jersey and New York City recommended
that I see the best spine specialists at that time, located in the Twin Cities in Minnesota. The spine specialist corrected the
curvature of my spine as much as he could, performed spinal fusion, and installed three pieces of titanium rods on my spine.
Because of the spine surgery, I found out that some of my vertebrae were not fully segmented. Recently, I found out that
various vertebral column issues have been reported in thalidomide survivors.
After living in New Jersey for ten years, I moved to Oregon to work for an air freight company. The pace of life was different
in Oregon. From the "I needed it yesterday" pace of the Northeast to the "wait for the pedestrian light to turn green before
you cross the street" pace of Oregon, it took me about two years to adjust. I remember clearly the moment I felt that I had
made the adjustment. I was on my commute to work on a forest road. Yes, there is a forest right in the city of Portland. While
waiting for my turn at a four-way stop intersection at the top of a hill, the sight of drizzling rain, fog, and pine trees around me
was just beautiful and peaceful. I started a family in Oregon. My wife and I have two daughters. Between family and work,
I went to Graduate School to earn a Master of Science in Software Engineering from Carnegie Mellon University. I have been
working as a Technology Project Manager for a logistics company in Portland, Oregon.
In 2018, I started to look again for information about the thalidomide tragedy and its impact in the United States. Most of the
items generated in a Google search were about thalidomide in countries other than the United States. I joined a Facebook
Group and met other American thalidomide survivors. It was like finally finding my tribe. I attended the group's first
gathering in Atlanta, Georgia, on March 1-4, 2018. It was great to be around people with limb differences like me. It was the
first time for me to observe myself on others, how I look and how I move. It was like an out-of-body experience. I listened
and shared experiences. Some thalidomide survivors had to retire early due to pain and disability. I heard stories about
overworked joints and muscles to compensate for their deformities. Some could not afford the expensive pain medications.
One was homebound because her van was too old, broken down, and too costly to repair. I heard other life challenges
thalidomide survivors had to endure while growing up and their early-onset age-related issues making life difficult.
At the Atlanta Gathering, I proposed forming a nonprofit organization to advocate for and support the American thalidomide
survivor community. A majority of the attendees agreed, and the nonprofit U.S. Thalidomide Survivors was incorporated
in Minnesota on September 5, 2018.
I volunteer at the nonprofit U.S. Thalidomide Survivors because I strongly believe in its mission - increasing public
awareness of the real history of thalidomide in the USA, advocating for thalidomide survivors, improving access to information
beneficial to thalidomide survivors, and providing a supportive community for American thalidomide survivors.
Please join me in supporting the nonprofit U.S. Thalidomide Survivors to help set our story straight and find a way to assist the
American thalidomide survivors live the remainder of their lives with dignity.