One lovely blog award

I promised it last week so here we are: I very gratefully accept my "Lovely Blog Award" from Rosey at ishkabibble!

The purpose of this award is for bloggers to nominate fellow, mostly newer, bloggers that they wish to recognize. The goal is to bring attention to blogs that we think are "lovely" and enjoy reading. We hope others will enjoy reading these blogs also.

In order to accept the award, the nominated blogger must follow these rules:

• Thank the person who nominated you & link back to them in your post
• Share seven facts about yourself
• Nominate 10 other bloggers for the award

Seven facts about myself, hmm...

1. I was born and brought up in Liverpool, but when I tell people they always look very surprised, and some even accuse me of lying! I've got a fairly generic northern accent, definitely not scouse.
2. I like to try ALL THE THINGS. Crafts, sports, study topics, I'm rubbish at specialising. The reason I became a speech and language therapist was because I couldn't decide what subject to take at Uni, and the SLT course offered a whole range: psychology, linguistics, biology, the lot. 
3. It may not have been a great reason to choose the course, but I love my job. I can't explain why without sounding twee but to be able to support people who have never had a voice to communicate their opinions (even just to tell me to 'go away'!) is such a privilege, wow.
4. I love the Indian/Nepali culture and go back there at every opportunity. Part of me would like to travel to all the places (see point 2) but part of me has found such a beautiful second home for my heart that I don't know if it's worth wasting those long-haul trips going somewhere else. 
5. Last time I did one of these fact lists I was still at uni, and one of my facts was 'I have never broken a bone in my body'. The following week I slipped on some ice and fractured my wrist! Since then I've also been knocked off my bike and broken my elbow. So there will be no 'I have never...' facts on this list!
6. Speaking of which: I have a crazy high pain threshold. When I broke my elbow I only agreed to go to A&E because it was closer to my home, and when they x-rayed me they couldn't believe I wasn't writhing in pain. I'd only had an ibuprofen! That;s an extreme example but I do generally need a significant injury to feel pain.
7. I run a youth group called 'Space' for high school students on an inner-city estate. I love that too and am torn between wanting to do more of it and moving forward in my job (see points 2 and 3!). It's dead scary to be responsible, and to be final resting place for the buck, but when I see the impact on the young people's lives, it's worth every minute.

Phew, that was surprisingly hard! Now I have a confession: I don't know that I could really name 10 blogs that I follow regularly! At least not ones that are new or would notice I was following them. So I'm going to name 5, I hope that's okay. To make up for it I'll give you a brief reason why you should check each one of them out.

1. Kathi's little corner: Kathi has been blogging for a long time but has recently changed sites so you might need to check back in a little while! But she writes really lovely reflections and is worth a read (her old blog is here in the meantime)
2. Kate at Beak up Crafts:  A beautiful blog about all kinds of crafts and soon, her growing family! 
3. Noni at Fireflies & Cats in the Garden: We've only recently discovered each other but Noni seems to be a really fun character and I'm looking forward to reading more!
4. Jo at Serendipitous Stitching: Jo has introduced me to all kinds of other blogs, and been so supportive of my ideas. She's got a real gift of bringing people together and does a few 'blog hops' on special occasions through the year which are great fun!
5. Rosey at Ishkabibble: I'm probably not supposed to link back but Rosey is so friendly, and I love to read the stories behind all the stitching which make it more personal (and also pleased I'm not the only one trying things out for the first time!)

Enjoy clicking around! I had a couple of other things to share but this seems like a long enough post already, so maybe you'll be lucky enough for a second one this weekend.

Unique {We are the Other}

I’m going to step into slightly unknown territory today and talk a little bit about my work. I’m linking up with the SheLoves Magazine Synchroblog on the theme “We are the other”: raising the profile of the people who are marginalised in the world. There are a lot of themes I could have picked up but I think many of them will be more than fairly represented amongst the other blog posts so the “other” people group I’m championing today is those with Learning Disabilities (that’s British terminology; I believe the accepted term stateside is Intellectual Disabilities).

I’m so aware that in writing about a group of people to which I don’t belong, I run the risk of setting them apart as “Others” even in my good intentions. So there will be as many links as possible scattered throughout, and I really encourage you to read them. Start with this lady. She speaks much more eloquently and with more authority than I ever could. Seriously, read it before going any further here. 

“He’s Unique.” I need say no more. (But I will, else there’s not much point in this post)

I listened to this discussion with Jean Vanier yesterday. Jean set up L’Arche, French for ‘The Ark’, when he invited two men with learning disabilities who had been living in an asylum, to come and live with him and share his life. There are now communities in more than 40 countries sharing that same vision of sharing life between people with and without learning disabilities.

One of the key things he talks about in the interview is the difference between admiring people and loving them. Admiring people sets them on a pedestal (He’s so brave); loving people stands alongside them. It allows them to get under your skin. One of the most empowering acts we can give to any person we normally keep behind the “Other” barrier is to let them drive you mad, make you angry.

I work in a school and residential setting for children and adults with profound and multiple learning disabilities. Many of those people also have very complex health needs. They need a lot of help with a lot of aspects of life; but they are always to be the ones in control. Sometimes that’s really inconvenient if I need to look in a person’s bag for their equipment and they say ‘no’, or I’ve asked for advice about what I should buy from the tuck shop and they recommend my least favourite item. But that in a small way is redressing the power balance that this world thrives on.

During the Summer I went to meet the leader of the L’Arche community in Manchester. I had gone because I wanted to find ways of making Christianity more accessible to people with learning disabilities; I wanted them to have the same opportunities to meet God as the rest of us. My vision was for special meetings, designed with various needs in mind, to welcome those with all kinds of additional needs.

But Kevin’s vision was something completely different. His vision is to see that people with learning disabilities are seen as no different from those without. His team’s proudest venture is the disco night they run once a month for local families, where people of all walks and ages come and some of them have learning disabilities. Nobody comes out of pity, they come because they have a good time, every one of them.

~*~

I don’t quite know how to finish today. This is something of a journey that I am still on; this is a people group that is such fun to work with and yet opens up such deep questions about the meaning and value of life. Perhaps I’ll end with this:

L'Arche is based on body and on suffering bodies. And so they are seen as useless, and so we welcome those who apparently are useless. And it's a suffering body which brings us together. And it's attention to the body. You see, when somebody comes to our community and is quite severely handicapped, what is important is to see that the body is well. Bathing, helping people dress, to eat. It's to communicate to them through the body. And then, as the body can become comfortable, then the spirit can rise up. There's a recognition. There's a contact. There's a relationship. 

We see this with some of our people, like Françoise. Françoise came to our community in 1978, very severely handicap. She couldn't speak, she could walk a bit, she couldn't dress herself, she was incontinent, and she couldn't eat by herself. And today, she is nearly 30 years older. She has become blind and a beautiful person. 

There was somebody who came to our community not too long ago who was, saw Françoise and the reaction was, 'Oh, what is the point of keeping Françoise alive?' And the leader of the little house said, 'But madam, I love her." I mean, it's as if you come in to a home and grandma is in the home and she has Alzheimer's and you say, 'What is — but she's my grandmother.' I mean, so it's based on the body, and then from the body, relationship grows. 

                                                              -Jean Vanier, OnBeing.org

EVERY life is unique. EVERY life has value.

A Month Gone By

I was doing really well and now there has been a whole month without a post. No good!

It's been quite a busy month. This might have to be a life-update post.

At the beginning of October I went to Frankfurt to the 24-7 Prayer Eurogathering. It was an amazing weekend. I went by myself and met some amazing people, learned some incredible stuff and had my mindsets and stereotypes challenged, again. I'm sure there will be lots to come out of that in the months to come.

The following week I had a job interview at the Hollybank Trust. This is an organisation I have wanted to work for ever since I graduated, and when the job was first advertised at the beginning of September, I lost a day's worth of work because I was just so excited about it! So reflecting on Germany was put on hold for a little while as every waking moment was dedicated to interview preparation. And, I got the job! It's the most amazing feeling, but at the same time very surreal. I'm still waiting to get a start date and do induction training and all of that, so it's a funny transition phase where I have a job, but don't have it yet. Can't wait to start!

Since then I have spent time catching up on everything I didn't do whilst preparing for trips abroad/interviews. I've had a hectic month, but things are finally slowing down. Today was an amazing day off- I left the house once, to buy some milk for a cup of tea!

Clocks go back tonight, loving my extra hour's sleep :-)

Climbing off my rocker

"Worry is like a rocking chair-- it gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere."

I am just coming to the end of a lovely week off. It feels a little bit naughty because it wasn't really for any occasion, but it's my first full week off since Christmas so I decided I deserved it. My plan was that while I had all this lovely free time I would write a whole list of blog posts that have been waiting to come out. Instead I slept in lots at the beginning of the week and then got up very early for busy things at the end of the week. So it didn't really work out, and tomorrow I have to be busy and working again so here is my last evening of "freedom".

It's funny actually, what difference a state of mind makes. In real life I have quite a lot of days off and work less than 30 hours in the average week, but those days don't feel like holiday because I have other responsibilities, other things to think about, deadlines hanging over me. Tomorrow I won't do anything I'm being paid for, but I have a full day's work and it's definitely not holiday. I'm learning that there will always be a to-do list, there will always be deadlines, but sometimes I have to put those things away and relax. It's difficult with my working pattern but I'm getting there, slowly.

About the working pattern. I swing between extremes of being desperate for the routine of a regular contract, and dreading the day I ever find myself in one. At the minute I'm enjoying the flexibility of life and the idea of a 9-5 job is horrifying, but as soon as I've written that I'm liable to change my mind. It recently struck me that I do live every week without the guarantee of a single hour's work, but I never doubt that it will come and I guess it's all just a part of living by faith. It's trust.

Every time I think about my life I want to post that song, Trust, again. This year more than any other I have learned that all I can ever do is in God's strength. The week before my break was a particularly difficult one- I had two new SLT clients to meet and no idea what to do with them; long hours of work; awkward situations with friends; a leaky basement that had me up every four hours through the night to empty a bucket and consequent discussions with our landlord. Every day I found that I knew Jesus was with me, I knew that he would take me through the situation and out the other side, but still I was really, really anxious to the extent that I wasn't in a very good mood for most of the week (except for a little while after each obstacle had been faced and overcome...)

So I have a new challenge. I have learned (am still learning) to trust from my spirit, my "know-er" as someone once called it. I know from experience and crazy blind faith that my God loves me and doesn't ask me to do what he won't equip me for. The challenge now is to deal with all that unnecessary worry that doesn't change anything other than the quality of my day and those unfortunate enough to cross my path.

"The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

We never stop learning, hey?

Rush Hour

Wow! I haven't posted for a long time, but it seems this blog has been getting more traffic in the past couple of months than it ever did when it was regularly updated. Maybe I should start again. I've been learning plenty of lessons in the past few months that I might have a few snippets of interest to share with you!

Tuesday speech therapy day has morphed into Monday and Wednesday speech therapy days, and I am now weekly resident SLT in a local school, which is lots of fun but comes with it's own trials and challenges! I'm still holding on to that trust, that God has everything under control. I certainly don't.

When there aren't hundreds of bank holidays everywhere, life has even settled into a bit of a rhythm, which is nice. There are always new challenges and I always could be doing more, but I have come to realise that actually, no one has ever 'made it' and reached that place in their life where everything is learned and achieved and it all feels doable, so I'm certainly not going to get there in my twenties!

I have also made my first ever batch of flapjack! It wasn't as good as my mum's (too much golden syrup and overcooked by a few minutes) but definitely the start of a family trait. Watch this space.

The Wednesday Lull

Tuesdays are messy days. Every Tuesday when I finally drag myself up to my room to fall into bed I see the sight that awaits me and exclaim, "I hate Tuesdays!" You see, Tuesday is speech therapy day. My office, resource room, storage facility, everything, is the little box room in the attic that doubles up as a bedroom for the rest of the week. Everything lives on top of my wardrobe (which has not collapsed under the weight... yet. I live in constant fear that one day it will). On Tuesdays, everything has to come down from the wardrobe to travel to one or other appointment. The printer and laminator have to come out to create some last-minute resources. And several outfits have to be tried on to find something that matches and looks professional. Which makes for a big mess in a small room. Tuesday evening is students night so it's pretty late by the time I finally retire to bed, by which time my only energy is to clear space enough to crawl under the covers and fall straight to sleep, and the problem is put off for another day.

Today I tidied, mostly. I really need to organise, more than tidy, but that will have to wait. An office would be lovely, but I fear that will have to wait even longer. So for now I carry on, and if I'm still here next week maybe I'll take a step closer to sensibility. Maybe.

Today I went on an eye-opening home visit. I'm not quite sure what to do with the experience so I think it needs to go here. I read a thought-provoking post the other day (:P) about what the purpose of a blog is, and how the purposes often merge into each other, and here is one such occasion. This is for my own therapy as much as to inform anyone else.

Kelly and Lucy, the physios that are volunteering at SGCP from Leeds Met, asked me to go and visit a child that they were very concerned about. They hadn't seen him in 6 weeks because the mother kept saying that he was too sick, and when they called to find out more they learned that he wasn't eating and the mother was having a lot of difficulty feeding him. As a newly-qualified SLT in England I'm not qualified to offer feeding and swallowing advice, but in a country where there are 5 qualified SLTs nationally I become more knowledgable than most other people around.

So off I went, armed with some very complicated Nepali phrases that I'd anticipated needing, a banana, some curd and a drink with a straw. I didn't really know what to expect but I could give it my best shot and at least offer some advice on positioning to the mum if all else failed.
We arrived at the house, and climbed three flights of stairs until we reached a corridor where the family lived in the first room on the left. Space is a luxury in Nepal. We were greeted with a strong smell of urine as we entered the room, and Nadesh (name changed... confidentiality!) crying on the bed. His mother had been trying to feed him but she stopped when we arrived. She looked exhausted but happy to see us.

I didn't know where to start. Lucy went straight into action trying to soothe him, and then the mother came and took him out while we spoke to the sister in very basic English. She must have been about 11 and didn't really understand most of what we said I don't think. The assesment began with a small piece of soggy banana which just sat on Nadesh's tongue as he opened his mouth and began to cry again. Kelly just got it out before it slipped straight back and choked him. His mother soothed him again and this time we asked her to feed him curd, which we were told he liked to eat already. Again he just cried and the food didn't go anywhere. He was clearly struggling to breathe and wasn't going to swallow anything we gave him, and I didn't want to risk it with anything else. The girls took over and did some physio stuff, and when he was calm again we tried him with tiny drops of mango juice from the straw. One drop took 5 swallows, an almost certain indication that it was spilling right down into his lungs.

What do you do? In England that child wouldn't be given another thing to eat by mouth, but here there are no IV fluids, no nasogastric tubes or PEGs to be inserted. I couldn't bring myself to feed him but we can't let him starve. The girls had also assessed his breathing and it was so irregular, he wouldn't breathe in for 5-6 seconds and then he would, but not breathe out, andso on. He had several collapsed ribs and his rib cage came all the way down to his abdomen, stoppinghis lungs from expanding properly and no doubt being part of the reason behind his vomiting everything he managed to swallow.

This child's story has a better ending than many- tomorrow he will be admitted to a general hospital and as soon as possible he will go to a nutritional hospital where he will recieve a short-term NG tube which will hopefully build his strength back up so he can begin to eat again. But the story isn't over- there are still so many risks involved and the family is so poor they will only ever recieve the most basic care.

I don't know how the girls do this every day. The children I visit are very well managed and reasonably healthy, regardless of their economic status or severity of CP. But here I just felt so useless- I could have endangered that child with my assessment and even when I knew it wasn't safe for him to eat, I was powerless to help the situation. The mother was wonderful, her positioning and feeding technique were flawless but that didn't help. There's no specialist to refer onto, no second opinion, just the hope that he will have caring and competent doctors and nurses at the hospital and that he won't get any infections.

It's a whole other world. Thank God that you're not trapped in it.

I am having an awesome time and learning lots- I have a handwritten post that I will find time to type up on here sometime soon, and an epic update post in my head for the nepal blog, but this just had to be expressed :)