BookOfMirrors (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bookofmirrors) wrote2006-02-23 12:22 am
bookofmirrors) wrote2006-02-23 12:22 am
On Working With My Client
As most of you know, I work with a client a few nights a week. Among many other things he could be labelled as, he is a quadriplegic.
A week or so ago, I was working with him on his computer, which is something we do just about every night that I'm there. He has a kickass voice recognition program, but some things are just easier with someone else at the keyboard, and it's something that we both enjoy doing, or at least I do. It's become part of our nightly ritual, as it were. He has a laptop that he takes to and from work, and that's where we do our work. Laptops being what they are, the keyboard is smaller than normal, and is also not ergonomic, which is what I use at home. Also, it has a touchpad that I often accidentally brush up against, and send the cursor across the page, doing something I don't want it to do. I tend to type pretty fast, although a decent portion of that speed is using the backspace key. With his setup, I do that a lot. He often teases me about my impatience, doing things too quickly, etc..
At any rate, on this particular night, that was happening frequently, and he chided me about my impatience, and made reference to being impatient himself - by citing his accident, the one that left him paralyzed. He said he had been impatient, looking for a nook in the rock that apparently hadn't been there.
Now, I don't remember exactly how I heard about his accident. I don't remember he or his wife ever talking about it, but I know that somehow I knew it was a rock climbing accident. It may have been in the original email I got from ParaQuad when I first started working with him under them. (I now work privately for him.) I don't know any details about it. The only other time he's ever mentioned it was when he was fussing at one of the cats, and told her to go rock climbing.
Prior to ParaQuad, I really didn't have any experience with spinal cord injuries. Sure, I worked developmental disabilities for seven years prior to moving to Atlanta, so I was certainly familiar with wheelchairs, lack of mobility, handicapped accessibility, PC as it related to those issues, etc.. But not only were pretty much all of the people I worked with disabled from birth, none really had the capacity to sit down and have an in-depth conversation about it - how it affected their lives, etc.. When I started working with ParaQuad, I didn't work with anyone who had been recently injured. They had all gotten past the initial reactions to their accidents, and were getting on with their lives. The only client I had who was still in the rehab process, I worked with less than a dozen times, on midnights, and there was a language barrier. So, I never really learned the proper etiquette for talking about someone's injury. It's not really touched on in any of the psychology classes I've taken, y'know, except for generic PTSD stuff, which, as I said, was no longer a focal point of any of my clients' lives.
My client had his accident 8 years ago, so he's pretty well-adjusted to his way of life now. Plus, he and his wife are from Britain, and have said (well, his wife has said, and he hasn't disagreed with her) that, unlike the typical American way of lamenting about it and going to therapy, they just dealt with the situation and got on with it. From a psychological standpoint, of course, I'm sorta appalled by that... y'know, just wondering what's under the surface, and such. But, y'know, that's how they deal/t with it, and that's OK. He hardly mentions it, as I said, and I've never asked.
Don't get me wrong. I'm curious. I want to know what happened, how his life has changed because of it, how he's dealt with it. I'd love to be able to support that kind of interaction, be in the position of compassion and understanding and empathy. I'd love to be a shoulder to cry on, if that were to ever come up.
But, when he brought it up, in the most serious of tones he'd ever brought it up in my presence, I choked. I had no idea how to react, so I shot off a glib remark, telling him that I was in a position to be selfish about his accident, because I never would have met him otherwise. He was quieter than usual most of the night, and I guessed it to be because of that. Perhaps it was the anniversary of his accident, I don't know. I was too scared to breach that subject, though, and hated that about myself. I appeased my conscience a bit by saying, as I was leaving, that he seemed sad, and stroking and kissing his cheek, something I don't normally do. (Actually, I often have the impulse to do so, just 'cause I'm naturally affectionate, and I adore him. I don't for several reasons: I don't know if that's allowed in the context of his marriage. There's that whole British-people-tend-not-to-be-affectionate thing; his wife actually mentioned that as a reason when I commented that I rarely saw them be affectionate to each other. And the PC stuff that was drilled into my head in Illinois considers such gestures infantalizing.)
I wanted to talk to him about it later, but haven't had the courage to do so. Usually, I consider my LJ entries an exercise in bravery, getting things out there I wouldn't normally. In this case, it's sheer cowardice. I write the things here I don't know how to say. Maybe I'll send him a link to this someday. Hell, maybe he reads this. He knows I have an LJ, and has read a few entries, after I sent him the link to my entry about Neg dying. (He called my writing "amazing". *blush*) I'll leave that particular up to the Universe.
The point is, I don't know the fabulous and vital man he was when he could walk. I only know the fabulous and vital man he is now. I don't see what I do there every night as work. I'm going to visit friends, and there are a few things I happen to do while I'm there visiting. If I win the lottery, or if
BlckwngdOrcl gets a job and I can stay home, I'd still go there. I look forward to going every night. I love him, love his wife, love their pets. I don't see him as in a wheelchair. I daresay that I even find myself attracted to him at times. Which, y'know, is a weird dynamic, since I consider he and his wife family; they remind me much of my own, and it's nice to have someone to kinda fill that void when I miss my own family. There are many things about him to admire, independent of the fact that he does those things from a wheelchair. His wife has introduced me to a lot of things, and we spend a lot of time together while I'm there, talking and watching TV and such. They're both intelligent (brilliant, really), well-versed, and just all-around great people.
It troubles me that I have trouble talking about that one thing, even when given such a perfect segue, and especially when I'd really love to talk about it.
Anyway, I've come to what feels like the end of this entry, although I don't think I've made any point, come to any conclusion. I guess I'm just venting, lamenting.
Incidentally, this concludes all the entries I've wanted to make in the recent past. I have no more pending entries. Hallelujah. :)
A week or so ago, I was working with him on his computer, which is something we do just about every night that I'm there. He has a kickass voice recognition program, but some things are just easier with someone else at the keyboard, and it's something that we both enjoy doing, or at least I do. It's become part of our nightly ritual, as it were. He has a laptop that he takes to and from work, and that's where we do our work. Laptops being what they are, the keyboard is smaller than normal, and is also not ergonomic, which is what I use at home. Also, it has a touchpad that I often accidentally brush up against, and send the cursor across the page, doing something I don't want it to do. I tend to type pretty fast, although a decent portion of that speed is using the backspace key. With his setup, I do that a lot. He often teases me about my impatience, doing things too quickly, etc..
At any rate, on this particular night, that was happening frequently, and he chided me about my impatience, and made reference to being impatient himself - by citing his accident, the one that left him paralyzed. He said he had been impatient, looking for a nook in the rock that apparently hadn't been there.
Now, I don't remember exactly how I heard about his accident. I don't remember he or his wife ever talking about it, but I know that somehow I knew it was a rock climbing accident. It may have been in the original email I got from ParaQuad when I first started working with him under them. (I now work privately for him.) I don't know any details about it. The only other time he's ever mentioned it was when he was fussing at one of the cats, and told her to go rock climbing.
Prior to ParaQuad, I really didn't have any experience with spinal cord injuries. Sure, I worked developmental disabilities for seven years prior to moving to Atlanta, so I was certainly familiar with wheelchairs, lack of mobility, handicapped accessibility, PC as it related to those issues, etc.. But not only were pretty much all of the people I worked with disabled from birth, none really had the capacity to sit down and have an in-depth conversation about it - how it affected their lives, etc.. When I started working with ParaQuad, I didn't work with anyone who had been recently injured. They had all gotten past the initial reactions to their accidents, and were getting on with their lives. The only client I had who was still in the rehab process, I worked with less than a dozen times, on midnights, and there was a language barrier. So, I never really learned the proper etiquette for talking about someone's injury. It's not really touched on in any of the psychology classes I've taken, y'know, except for generic PTSD stuff, which, as I said, was no longer a focal point of any of my clients' lives.
My client had his accident 8 years ago, so he's pretty well-adjusted to his way of life now. Plus, he and his wife are from Britain, and have said (well, his wife has said, and he hasn't disagreed with her) that, unlike the typical American way of lamenting about it and going to therapy, they just dealt with the situation and got on with it. From a psychological standpoint, of course, I'm sorta appalled by that... y'know, just wondering what's under the surface, and such. But, y'know, that's how they deal/t with it, and that's OK. He hardly mentions it, as I said, and I've never asked.
Don't get me wrong. I'm curious. I want to know what happened, how his life has changed because of it, how he's dealt with it. I'd love to be able to support that kind of interaction, be in the position of compassion and understanding and empathy. I'd love to be a shoulder to cry on, if that were to ever come up.
But, when he brought it up, in the most serious of tones he'd ever brought it up in my presence, I choked. I had no idea how to react, so I shot off a glib remark, telling him that I was in a position to be selfish about his accident, because I never would have met him otherwise. He was quieter than usual most of the night, and I guessed it to be because of that. Perhaps it was the anniversary of his accident, I don't know. I was too scared to breach that subject, though, and hated that about myself. I appeased my conscience a bit by saying, as I was leaving, that he seemed sad, and stroking and kissing his cheek, something I don't normally do. (Actually, I often have the impulse to do so, just 'cause I'm naturally affectionate, and I adore him. I don't for several reasons: I don't know if that's allowed in the context of his marriage. There's that whole British-people-tend-not-to-be-affectionate thing; his wife actually mentioned that as a reason when I commented that I rarely saw them be affectionate to each other. And the PC stuff that was drilled into my head in Illinois considers such gestures infantalizing.)
I wanted to talk to him about it later, but haven't had the courage to do so. Usually, I consider my LJ entries an exercise in bravery, getting things out there I wouldn't normally. In this case, it's sheer cowardice. I write the things here I don't know how to say. Maybe I'll send him a link to this someday. Hell, maybe he reads this. He knows I have an LJ, and has read a few entries, after I sent him the link to my entry about Neg dying. (He called my writing "amazing". *blush*) I'll leave that particular up to the Universe.
The point is, I don't know the fabulous and vital man he was when he could walk. I only know the fabulous and vital man he is now. I don't see what I do there every night as work. I'm going to visit friends, and there are a few things I happen to do while I'm there visiting. If I win the lottery, or if
BlckwngdOrcl gets a job and I can stay home, I'd still go there. I look forward to going every night. I love him, love his wife, love their pets. I don't see him as in a wheelchair. I daresay that I even find myself attracted to him at times. Which, y'know, is a weird dynamic, since I consider he and his wife family; they remind me much of my own, and it's nice to have someone to kinda fill that void when I miss my own family. There are many things about him to admire, independent of the fact that he does those things from a wheelchair. His wife has introduced me to a lot of things, and we spend a lot of time together while I'm there, talking and watching TV and such. They're both intelligent (brilliant, really), well-versed, and just all-around great people. It troubles me that I have trouble talking about that one thing, even when given such a perfect segue, and especially when I'd really love to talk about it.
Anyway, I've come to what feels like the end of this entry, although I don't think I've made any point, come to any conclusion. I guess I'm just venting, lamenting.
Incidentally, this concludes all the entries I've wanted to make in the recent past. I have no more pending entries. Hallelujah. :)
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I think at the time my version of logic ran: "If I ask her directly, I'll know, and I can get the wondering out of the way and just interact with her as a person, since there's obviously nothing wrong with her mind, just her leg."
It's not something I would ask casually, and I've never asked any of the other non-AB people I've met.
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(Anonymous) 2006-02-27 08:26 am (UTC)(link)Lucy
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