start with the fact of the pain in my leg lessening, but still being there. apparently this sciatica shit ain't nothing to play with. you get older and all kinds of shit that used to mean nothing at all all of a sudden become the new dictionary in your head, that you study over and over to become more prolific at the science of your ass falling apart. nonetheless, i've survived 2 weeks and some days of this, and i know i have to make some changes in the way i'm doing things again. that is coming; not spoken facetiously, either. i know it's coming because i know i haven't allowed it to leave my mind. i liked who i was becoming before the surgery, and i want to meet him again and go where he was going.
i am learning that developmental disability is not so much a condition as a series of conditions that are summed up in words that group people together, and that's probably true of every single human experience in the 21st century. i am also learning that from one county to the next, the way people grouped together as developmentally disabled are dealt with changes, but they themselves as a group do not. Mahoning County seems to be much more together in the way they facilitate care than Trumbull, though Trumbull has likely been at it just as long. it sucks. (b-dubs, also sucks that with a workshop closed today i would have been able to make my counseling, but i cancelled because i didn't know the workshop would be closed, but that's another crumbling cookie). at the workshops i go to now, i see people who actually come to help the drivers. i see a lot of the inner city individuals that i didn't see in Trumbull county. i would have sworn it was just suburbanites who got to send their kids to workshops and dayhabs, but i would have been mistaken. so, there's that.
i'm still finding the pleasant surprises along the way, and that is perhaps the only redeeming grace that remains to doing this job. so much of it is just drudgery now. like, a client who shall be called E, who i would have sworn was possessed. white, cataract eyes, sullen, angry face, strapped into a wheelchair, speaking in angry tones mostly, sometimes seeming to speak in tongues. i would look into my observation mirror to see her glowering at the front of the bus, and i swear to you it would chill me to the bone. until i got to speaking to her and calling her by name, and now she says and acts the same way but i've gained some understanding and was told by one of the staff at her residence yesterday, "She must really like you; she don't talk this much unless she likes a person." and it hit me; stop pre-judging, and just learn to see what's really there. another client is the son of a man who used to be a best friend. he is twisted up and seems so forlorn most of the time, but he never gives me any problems, though he's come out swinging on the staff at the workshop.
best one so far, i'll call A. young man, in a chair also. sweet, serene, quiet, affectionate in that he seems to reach toward contact. not a problem at all, except he likes to grab hold of things...seat belts, the back of the seat in front of him, whatever...and he doesn't easily let go. E has disturbed him from time to time with her outbursts, i know. A's mom told me he likes music, he likes smooth jazz, he likes old school and classic r&b. i keep music in my phone, but nothing to the extent of what she was talking about. two weeks, learning and trying to get better at my route, and A has put up with me. yesterday just seemed to need a bit more somehow. went to my jazz station on the internet and cued up the Fusion Lounge, which is more eclectic and electronica than jazz, but A perked up, visibly grooving a bit to it. even E got quieter than normal. after I got E and her housemate home and unloaded. i decided to change to the Cool Jazz filter. oh my goodness...A just went happy-crazy! he started hooting, he was pounding on the seat to keep his version of time with the music, he was loving it. Stanley Turrentine came on and it was like watching a sunrise in A's demeanor. it was the best part of this last two weeks, to be sure.
you just never can tell, can you?
got some plans with some people this weekend, which is different. got to cook for my parents on Wednesday night, which i enjoyed, as well as talking to my mother. got to talk to my nameless friend more. we argue, we are both in compromised space, but we get along and it's good for me and i hope like hell its good for them too.
tired now, so i'm going to go back to sleep. thanks for hanging out with me for a bit...
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