Beyond the Pain

Bubbly Toes

She had shockingly white, Nordic blond hair. It wrapped around a rounded face graced with protruding cheek bones, under glacial blue eyes, and set off with a ski jump nose. Her name as Ingrid and she was my new Recreation Therapist.

Ingrid had a effervesent, nothing-got-her-down personality that immediately reminded me of the Jack Johson song, “Bubbly Toes”. I used to love to listen to that song when I was feeling down. Too bad I hadn’t brought any of my CDs with me when I moved.

“I see you spent some time with a Recreation Therapist during your stay at Foothills,” Ingrid said. “What sorts of things did you do?”

“Well. Actually. We mainly talked. I needed someone to talk to. I did write some poetry and I did some drawing,” I said.

“Well. Time for you to get moving,” she said. I was to learn that Ingrid was about action and talking wasn’t action in her mind.

“Why don’t you go over this list of recreational activities. I want you to underline the activities you’ve engaged in in the past. And, as you go through the list also circle the actitivities you might like to engage in.”

I looked over the list. There must have been four or five dozen activities. As directed by Ingrid I underlined some and circled others. Then I gave the list to Ingrid.

Ingrid looked over the list. “I notice you would like to take an Acrylic painting class. I have the calendar of classes from the City of Calgary Recreation here. Why don’t you look over the list of classes and we’ll discuss them next time,” she said.

“Our time is up. Unless you have any urgent questions.”

I didn’t. I took my leave wonder what awaited me at my next visit with Ingrid.

In time I would learn that not only was Ingrid a woman who encourged action in others. She was a woman who took action. Decisively. 

An excerpt from CRASH! Memories of a Healing Journey, All Rights Reserved, Lyle T. Lachmuth

Looking For A Book

“Act like your looking for a book but you’re not sure what to buy,” I said.

Bonnie actually got up from her chair. Stood a few feet away. And, approached me like I was sitting in my chair at the cash desk in the bookstore. She said, “Can you help me?”

“What are you looking for?”

“That’s the problem I don’t know,” she said.

I thought for a second. Then said, “What do usually read? Fiction? Non-fiction?”

“Oh. Mostly fiction, I guess.” she said.

“Okay. Do you recall liking a particular author. Or, genre, like romance or mystery?”

“What’s literary?” she said.

“Well, honestly, that’s the bulk of the fiction books in the store. To be honest I think I was hired because I don’t tend to like literary authors. I think of them as pretenious, uppity. But I do like some. Have you ever read Jodi Picoult?”

“No. I don’t think so,” she said.

“Let’s go over to that wall where her books are shelved.” And, we moved in the office as if we were moving in the actual store.

“Let me see. Oh. I really, really like this one. ‘House Rules’. It’s about a family raising a boy with Asperger’s Syndrome. It really spoke to me,” I said.

“Let me look at it,” Bonnie said. She picked a folder off her desk. As if it were a book. Looked at it. And, said, “I’ll take it.”

I said, “Let’s go back to the cash desk and I will ring that up for you.”

Bonnie came out of her role as a customer. Stepped around her desk. Sat down. Straightened her skirt. And, said, “Now. Was that so difficult?’

“No. Not really,” I said.

“I think you will do a fine job when you return to work,” she said.

“Our time is almost up. Do you have any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s schedule our next session. Would same day. Same time. Two weeks from now, work for you?”

I said, “I am at your command.”

Bonnie raised her right eyebrow as if to say, oh right! Handed me a card with the appointment day and time writted on it. Stood up. Shook my hand. “See you next time,” she said.

I turned. Opened her office door. Found my way to the reception area. Waited for my next appointment with Adeline.

I had been a bit leery of my appointments with Bonnie. Now I was actually looking forward to my next one.

But. It never happened.

And, I don’t know why.

An excerpt from CRASH! Memories of a Healing Journey, All Rights Reserved, Lyle T. Lachmuth