Quiet time after the frenzy
It is 8:39am,and another day lies waiting before me like a preying animal,ready to pounce in unexpected ways and wreak havoc upon my body and mind.My pain level this morning is severe,a result of yesterdays exertions no doubt.I had a sadistically early hospital appointment where they delivered the earth shattering news that I couldn't hear very well;and my first uncharitable thought was "why didn't you just ask me,can you hear?",instead of sticking a multitude of formidable looking,and fear inducing foreign objects into my much loved aural organs.I was mildly amused by the young health care assistant,who I firmly believe to be much younger than the last pair of thermal socks I purchased,as she insisted on taking my face in both her hands and turning it to face her before she spoke to me.She then would enunciate every syllable in slow motion to me and then wait quietly for my response.I was grateful for her silence in these moments as her slow motion syllabic delivered questions were accompanied by earth shattering decibel levels of world record quality.I prolonged the silence at these times for as long as I could without appearing impolite or discourteous.I left the hospital with the news that my new hearing aids will be ready for me in six to eight weeks and I would be informed as to when I could pick them up.I look forward to this with a mixture of joy and a modicum of grief and loss for my injured ears.After the hospital,I then had to keep an appointment with my mental health therapist,another impossibly young woman,who stoically and endearingly attempts to put me at my ease with the greeting of "hey you",every time we meet.Perhaps unkindly I think on these occasions,"have you forgotten my name again?.
Initially,we engaged in the now usual mental jousting forays that take place over the first half hour of every visit.She tells me who I am,and I tell her why she's wrong;it works for us and it breaks the ice so to speak.She then gives me a piece of paper with answers on of how I am feeling,please ring one two or three,I ring the same numbers I ring every week;she then says,"hmmm,no change there then".The advances of medicine at these times never fail to amaze me,but I do so enjoy these mental health chess games we indulge in every time.My young degree holder then informs me that I am being passed up the chain,so to speak,to a cognitive behavioral therapist trainee called John,who although a trainee,has years of experience;I am still contemplating why he is still a trainee after all this experience,but politeness stilled my tongue before the question became reality and so prevented any awkwardness.So my final visit with my therapist draws to a conclusion,and with a shake of the hand and a cheery"take care you",from her,I am tempted to say my name but I resist manfully,I am gone.I wish you nothing but good my young friend,I shall miss our weekly jousting matches.From there,I went to my doctors,where I had to read a report requested by my firms occupational health department,a department I must confess I had no knowledge of until now.For the next half hour,I wallowed in memories of my life going back to 1963 when I
Initially,we engaged in the now usual mental jousting forays that take place over the first half hour of every visit.She tells me who I am,and I tell her why she's wrong;it works for us and it breaks the ice so to speak.She then gives me a piece of paper with answers on of how I am feeling,please ring one two or three,I ring the same numbers I ring every week;she then says,"hmmm,no change there then".The advances of medicine at these times never fail to amaze me,but I do so enjoy these mental health chess games we indulge in every time.My young degree holder then informs me that I am being passed up the chain,so to speak,to a cognitive behavioral therapist trainee called John,who although a trainee,has years of experience;I am still contemplating why he is still a trainee after all this experience,but politeness stilled my tongue before the question became reality and so prevented any awkwardness.So my final visit with my therapist draws to a conclusion,and with a shake of the hand and a cheery"take care you",from her,I am tempted to say my name but I resist manfully,I am gone.I wish you nothing but good my young friend,I shall miss our weekly jousting matches.From there,I went to my doctors,where I had to read a report requested by my firms occupational health department,a department I must confess I had no knowledge of until now.For the next half hour,I wallowed in memories of my life going back to 1963 when I
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