TGFPB

Last semester, my friend dlG was given a new client at theuniversity speech-language clinic where we are both working on our master’sdegree in Communicative Disorders. She is in her 3^rd year of theprogram and, according to her, has always been given difficult, behavioralclients. After reading her new client’s file, she was (rightfully) terrified oftherapy with the kid. Without violating any confidentiality rules, this kid wasscary. If the rather large/strong 9 y/o child became upset, there was a definite possibility ofharm to the clinician. To top it off, the mother of this child is highly litigious.(She sues at the drop of a hat for a diagnosis she doesn't like, she sues. Ifthe school where her child attends doesn't deal with violent behavioral issuesas she deems appropriate, she sues.) The instructions to dlG were: “Don’t tryto work on any behavior issues, try to get some language work done and don’tget sued.”

The client didn't show up for the first few sessions of thesemester, and each day, dlG waited anxiously, getting paler and paler as 4:30rolled around. I worked the library shift at that time, and I couldn't help butlaugh at her plight. I wasn't laughing to be mean, I laughed because it was aterribly awkward situation for her, and I didn't really know how to handle it,so I laughed.

One day, fed up with my laughing, she recruited Mr. W toplay a trick on me. He came up to me and said “Zimmerman, I think it would bebeneficial for you to co-treat with dlG this semester.” I ALMOST PEED MY PANTS.I’m not kidding, I was terrified. He was teasing me. 

Fast forward to the beginning of this semester, when Ms. Bwas assigning clients to us at the clinic. She sent me an email and made surethat I was able to take a 4:30 pm client, and said “you may want to talk to dlG…”I was scared, but with a semester of therapy under my belt (hahaha), I thought it wouldbe ok, and it was kind of nice that the supervisors trusted me to have thiskind of HARD client.

Our first therapy session went well, there were some bumps,and some behavioral issues, but there wasn’t really anything that made meafraid for my life.

Let me take you to my session last Tuesday. The clientgreeted me in the waiting room, then proceeded to follow me to the therapy roomwhile acting like a cat. Great, so long as kitty will use its words. The firsthalf of the session went fine, activities went over pretty well, and at 5:00 wetook a break and went to get a drink in the hallway, as we do every therapysession at 5:00.

The kid tried to run away. We followed the pre-determinedplan (this has happened before) and after a few minutes, things were resolvedand we got back to work.

There were 5 minutes left in my session. FIVE MINUTES. Iwanted to get in one more activity, one we’d done many times. I would hand the clienttwo rings and give directions to toss “the blue after the green” onto the back of a little chair in our room.

We’ve been working on this concept of before/after for weeksand while before is about mastered, after is tougher without some serious cueing.The client did two tasks wrong, so before handing over the last two rings, Iattempted to teach quickly “remember, AFTER means second!” The client didn’tlike that much, and so lunged for the rings I held in my hand.

Being STUPID, I held the rings out of the client’s reach.

This is the point that everything gets a little blurry. Theclient lunged for the rings; I pulled them out of reach, the client lashed outat the thing that was the closest to their face. MY RIGHT BREAST.

All I have to say about this is, TGFPB- Thank goodness forpadded bras! Vicky, you saved my life (or my right boob). 

The session ended, I got to file a report, I cried in Mr. W’soffice (I was slightly traumatized by the whole thing). I called my dad andthen I got the email:

Sessions cancelled for the rest of the semester.

Traumatic? Yes. 

A good story/ experience? Yes. 

But was it worth gettingout of clinic for the rest of the semester?

Absolutely.