Skip to main content

Allow Me My Voice

I find it difficult to blog. I have plenty of ideas but executing those gems gets lost in the minutae of operating my Tobii, my augmentative and alternative communication device, which operates with the positioning of my eyes.
One may think that I ought to just be grateful that I live in the computer age and get on with it. But my experience is that if we say nothing, you get nothing. How else do things improve?

I'm an avid, daily user of the technology. I am also told that I'm one of the fastest users that my Tobii representative has ever seen and she covers several states. And, still, I have days when I abdicate and resort to communicating by practically, unintelligible speech, which wears me out and exasperates me.

For one thing, I live in a nursing home situation with many caregivers, not one of them has speech generating device experience nor training. This is ludricrous! As one of many patients with dysarthria, major speech deficits, I believe responsible caregivers should be able to communicate with their patients. They should be able to turn the device on and off, Position the device, set up for calibration, and find the instructions to give aid for more complex needs. For example, reset the device when it acts up.

Can you imagine having to communicate when you need to make a bowel movement, without the use of your words or hand gestures? What about when you need to report new symptoms or adverse reactions to a drug? How do you let it be known that you cannot breathe?!  I've been in all of those situations and I can tell you, you cannot begin to feel helpless and vulnerable! It's like I've regressed back to babyhood in all physical areas, except for my brain.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Remember...

I remember catching fireflies,  putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field.  That field was my...

I Heart Trellis

Early in our relationship, though we were traditional nine-to-fivers, we were driven to create something together. At 36 and 43-years old, respectively, we were beyond creating babies. Besides, we came into our relationship with a perfect daughter each. Mine was 13 and his, twenty-three. Both blonde, bright, and beautiful and his came with a bonus, a baby! I came into the relationship with a condo that needed no work. He had a work-in-progress in the woods, actually two. We would spend our lives together redesigning and improving these "cabins in the woods". But, before that we took an afternoon cutting down young alders to use to make a trellis. Working together, we .wove supple, young branches into a nine-foot tall trellis with two hearts stacked one atop the other. We were in the gooey, sickeningly sweet, first months of love, forging a new life together. Here we are seventeen years later, separated by circumstance, through no fault of our own. I live in a hospice faci...

Tuesday

Tuesday is shaping up to be my best day of the week. Every day holds the requisite eating, changing, television, and napping. But Tuesday, I got a glorious, hot bath in a handicap-accessible bathtub with my Angela and Lisa, reorganized my shower caddy with my Lisa, read "The White Album" by Joan Didion with my Lindsey, "supervised" doughnut-making and sampled same with my Sandra among others, and listened to Ryan Feng play classical piano. A new book fell into my lap today. Of course, I mean that figuratively. "Play It As It Lays" by Joan Didion was just laying on top of the informal Bailey Boushay House library cart, so I borrowed it. .Guess what we'll be reading? I feel very blessed!