I should probably re-name the blog “Grumblings” for today. Yeesh!
My right shoulder is still sore from foolishly struggling with a gentleman I worked with on Friday. The man (who is a head and a half taller than I am) felt a strong need to lunge into every room we passed on our way to not get to the Music Room. Um...ouch!
Today I discovered (a little late) that the person I was taking out of his cottage to go to music therapy was in need of a change of clothing. To say the least, he was not (I repeat NOT) happy about walking out the door and my belated realization. To let me know just how unhappy he was with this upsetting turn of events, he tried to bite, scratch and head-butt me (all at the same time). Then he decided that his best course of action was to sit me out, so he dropped himself down on to the ground and sat there angrily, lashing out every so often. That was when my back stopped working effectively.
The afternoon brought a disagreement with one of my clients who uses a wheelchair. He feels strongly that he should drag his foot underneath his chair while we walk outside. I feel just as strongly that his foot should not be broken while I push his chair to the Music Room (which requires going over a somewhat bumpy cement and then asphalt terrain). During our quite animated discussion over this issue, he decided to stop his wheelchair entirely (you can do that when your foot isn’t on the foot pedal), lean down and eat leaves.
By 2 PM I was fairly certain that I should have taken the day off. Mind you, it had already crossed my mind that part of the problem in the first place was that I let my clients know that I would be on vacation and we wouldn’t see each other next Monday. Separation anxiety anyone?
Two very lovely things did happen though- reminding me that no day is a total washout. One was a very sweet smile from the person with whom I’m “sitting in limbo” when I dropped off a group of guys in his cottage. At first he looked a bit peeved that I was with other people (and not him). I told him I’d stop over and say “hello” and when I did, he gave me one of his glorious shiny smiles.
The second delightful thing was that, after a rather tough session, my last two clients still insisted on touching my (achy) shoulder gently and walking me to the door to say “goodbye” (actually, one of the guys almost followed me right out the door). A cynic would say that they just wanted to make sure I was good and gone. But I’m not a cynic. And I thought it was awfully sweet.