Showing posts with label psychologist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psychologist. Show all posts

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Cynthia: Mens Mentis Medicus

During my various charity efforts on behalf of the AHCA, I have acquired a detailed list of some of the finest practitioners of medicine in the country. While nothing immediately springs to mind in the field of psychiatry, I have no doubt whatsoever that I can obtain the name of someone exceptional within the hour, Miss Stroud. I shall have Jeffrey leave the necessary information on the table in the foyer.

As this is the second time he has been mentioned, I should introduce my personal care worker, Jeffrey Werth. A personal care worker is not a nurse, but someone capable of carrying out the sundry, oftentimes repulsive duties required to keep a quadriplegic alive. Again, through my contacts in the American Health Care Association I was introduced to an organization called Independence First, an institute devoted to assisting disabled individuals in attaining as much personal freedom as possible. Independence First provided the resumes of personal care workers, and I interviewed and rejected almost a dozen of them before I hired Jeffrey.

Jeffrey is working toward his nursing degree at the University of Marquette (while Marquette is most renowned for their post-graduate work in the theology and bio-medical fields, their Nursing program is not far behind in terms of prestige). He is perhaps the hardest working person I have ever met, and seems to have no difficulty at all with what I consider to be the almost intolerably odious tasks necessary to keeping a paralyzed human body alive.

Of paramount import to me, however, is that my personal care worker actually be capable of conversing on subjects beyond my mere survival. I realized early on that whomever I employed would become the central figure in my existence, and though some may call it snobbish, I had no desire to spend my remaining days being attended to by some dullard. When not tending to my basic needs, Jeffrey spends our mornings reading Hegel aloud to me and making invaluable suggestions on precisely which Gorham silver service to purchase for the dining room I no longer have a use for. (Below: Gorham tea set. Absolutely magnificent patternwork.)

Should you require anything here at the house, consider Jeffrey to be acting on my behalf and trust him as you would me.

Also, though I am loathe to discuss the details of my personal situation, I should inform you as to how I am typing this at all. I use Dragon NaturallySpeaking Preferred software to transform my speech into type, and I find that the company's claim of ninety-nine percent accuracy is for the most part valid. To navigate web pages I utilize a mouth-manipulated joystick.

On another note: Joshua, with Miss Stroud's permission perhaps you could accompany her on her visit to Mrs. Walentowicz's home tomorrow. Miss Stroud's reaction to Mrs. Walentowicz's mental state is most intriguing, and perhaps you can provide a fresh perspective.

Mary: No I.D.

I went from Todd's smokey, dingy, empty pizza-box-strewn 1970's-style living room to Mrs. Walentowicz's smokey, dingy, BINGO paraphernalia-ridden 1970's-style kitchen, and I don't think my lungs can take much more.

Nevertheless, I sat with Mrs. Walentowicz for a full hour and a half looking at pictures of trucks, and while it was at times agonizing for both of us, there does seem to be one she's leaning towards. I think it might be best if she sleeps on it tonight and I come back in the morning.

I again asked her more than once if she was feeling all right, and she again insisted that she was, but after meeting with her a second time I am more convinced than ever that she is virtually petrified with an unnameable fear. If anything, I believe she has gotten worse since the last time I saw her. She shambled around the kitchen like a caged animal while smoking one cigarette after another, once even mistakenly lighting one even as another wasn't half-gone in the ashtray. Despite all my prying-some subtle, some not so much-I still have no idea where this anxiety is coming from with her, and I'm not sure she does either.

I'll return tomorrow and hopefully get a positive I.D. on the truck.

When I do come back, I'd like to have the name of a good psychologist that I can pass along to her, but I don't know anyone here in Milwaukee. Would either of you have a recommendation?