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Friday, June 22, 2007LOOKING THROUGH DIFFERENT EYES : PART 1 - MY EYESMany readers know that I'm a volunteer at a local rehabilitation centre. I'm well into my second year of doing this & despite the odd hiccup, still enjoy my time with those whom I (perhaps others may feel unkindly) refer to as The Veggies. I'm a cynical ratbag sometimes, but I'm also a realist. The patients that I deal with are vegetables, with little or no physical mobility & only the occasional few brain cells functioning. My eyes see twisted bodies, unco-ordinated limbs, uncontrollable bodily functions*. My eyes see unnecessary items like flat-screen wall mounted TV's in the wards. Veggies don't know the difference between a flat-screen or standard TV - what they see, if indeed they can see, are moving pictures with accompanied noise. The 'minders' of patients sit around bored, talking amongst themselves & enjoying flat-screen TV's. Although I have never witnessed any form of cruelty, I constantly see the indifference shown. Compassion simply does not exist - particularly from the 'minders' - & I defy anyone to prove me wrong. Nursing staff do their jobs without enthusiasm & those that were well liked & respected, are now leaving in droves, for reasons unknown. My eyes do see a heap of negativity, which saddens me, but after reading reports of the recent 'find' of abused mentally/physically handicapped children in Iraq, I am incredibly grateful that my veggies are treated like royalty in comparison. My eyes see the dimmest of lights going on when a patient recognises me - I see the smile break out on a patients face & the excitement surface as their recognisable tunes are played on the cassette tape player. My eyes see the gentleness in a patients face, which would in any other situation, scare off a person, with thoughts of 'whoa.....monster'. They also see the confusion in the eyes of a man that has his arm strapped to his wheelchair. He sucked his thumb, but despite not being able to understand why his arm/hand is now immobilised, understands that he simply can't get his hand to his mouth any more. His other arm is rigid & cannot function at all. I see, in his eyes, the confusion & his unspoken thoughts of 'why?'. My eyes see the pain in the tear filled eyes of a man who cannot move more than one arm & his head. His legs have been splinted (again) & he is in extreme pain. He must remain that way for two gruelling hours, under instruction from the physiotherapist. I'd like to know WHY this treatment is so necessary, when the patient is unable to move or use his legs in any way. His cries of pain haunted me for days. My eyes see the recognition the veggies give me........when Gummi Bear hugs me (a recent development!) & says "mummaaaa" or Sexy Eyes gives me the coyest of smiles when I wink at him (haram!) & High 5 shoots his arm up into the air the minute I say "High 5!". I may walk or prance around the ward, warbling to the memorised tunes & banging a tambourine like someone with a serious affliction herself(!), but when my eyes see the smiles, I am rewarded with more than the monetary wealth of the world.  For illustrative purposes only * 99% of the patients wear nappies/diapers. There is one however, who is mentally retarded but perfectly physically able, that takes great delight by going out into the garden, hoisting his thobe up & enjoying a slash. This is followed by a sometimes rather involved inspection of his 'tools' & a repeat performance of the whole process.** ** Not that I've stood & watched, you understand!  
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