Monica's Thoughts
WOMAN OF AFRICA
Why are you shy to speak your wisdom?
Why are you shy to speak your history
In a world which does not understand
That history is not just about
Kings, queens and conquests not of your own?
A World where being a woman
Is supported all around you
With hair salons and products
From the L'Oreals which you can't use
Cause they don't feel you're worth it?
Woman of Africa
Why are you shy?
Why do you not speak your wisdom
In lands where it is always so cold
Heated by machines called radiators
Which run with the gurgle of alligators?
Forever cold you are
In lands where the sun hides
Its face, so black will not happen
To soft white skin.
In lands where
Beautiful is thin and flat
And speaking your wisdom
Is impolite and frowned at.
Woman of Africa
Why are you shy
Of a body which the gods
Smile on and bless
To give nurture
To give comfort
In a world where the goddess of sex
Is coiffed and dressed
In clothes made by young children
With hard workers hands
In far off lands
With faces old before their time?
Woman of Africa
Why do you not use your wisdom
When your men are stereotyped
And maligned
Through ages of ignorance
And tales untrue
Which only you Can dispel?
I Woman of Africa
I Will speak my truth
Say it when it is needed
I
Woman of Africa
Saartjie Baartman thought she was going overseas to be a nursery maid. She ended up on display in Europe! She was an ordinary, curious 18 year old, who travelled to a foregn country with all the excitement and expectaion of any young girl, eager to see the big world, eager to earn some money.
Does this still sound familiar 200 years after her death? Listen to her story:
You Tube - English: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WM-MVdX7sQw - Français: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jn94UTcie7I
“Less Words, More Respect” – My Experience with Aphasia. It happened on a lazy Sunday morning.
Suddenly he stared at me blankly, mouth foaming, grimacing lips jumping. Then his body contorted. He fell down and my life as I knew it fell down with him and shattered.
A stroke happens when the blood supply to the brain is cut off, killing brain cells, says the Stroke Association, UK. This happens to about 450,000 people in England each year.
For the rest of his life my John was paralyzed and unable to eat. Worst still, he couldn't speak either. Neither could he read nor write!
How should speech and language therapists react when faced with clients who ask for therapy with which they may disagree? Monica Clarke, whose husband has aphasia and dysphagia, gives a client’s account
John Clarke — after severe chest infections, choking and stopping breathing, eventually decided to have a gastrostomy.
To eat or not to eat? It’s not a simple question. Be fed by a pump, through a tube, straight into your tummy? No thank you! That was our first reaction.
“The stroke has caused swallowing problems and you will get lots of chest infections,” the doctors said. “Most liquids will go down the wrong way — straight down into your lungs; you won’t be able to cough stuff back. You might choke on solids. Your chest might give in completely,” they warned.
SEVERELY DYSPHASIC
Three years ago my husband, John, had a stroke. He is severely dysphasic. When he was in hospital, he made clear his refusal to have a gastrostomy, and I supported his decision. But now, after severe chest infections, choking, stopping breathing, life forced a decision on us. The family agreed and the PEG was inserted.
What then about cooking, about eating together? Since the gastrostomy our kitchen has almost shut down completely. We find it very difficult to eat in front of John. “You have to keep your own strength up,” we are told over and over again. Sure. But how do we do this?
We, who were brought up to share food, now have to sit and eat in front of someone we love, who cannot eat with us. We want to share the smells, colours, tastes of our food. We no longer have communal mealtimes. The dining room table has become redundant; we don’t have friends over for meals, we don’t go out for meals. The gastrostomy has changed our family structure very much.
Food is so important. Eating involves much more than nutrition. It is a vital ingredient of our interaction with other people. In a society where contact with other human beings is rapidly decreasing, eating is one of the few activities through which we can enjoy each other. At our own pace, to suit our own budgets, to maintain and share our individual cultures, to show our goodwill to our fellows. That is partly why we eat.
We look forward to eating, we have rituals around it, we share our food, talk about it, exchange it.
SELF-ESTEEM
Then there is the feeder. The discussion on whether to eat or not to eat has never focused on me, the feeder. I have lost out a lot because my kitchen is becoming redundant, too.
Givers of food exercise control and power over those they feed. Go into any chef’s kitchen and start messing around and you will soon find out. I have lost self-esteem; I have lost brownie points.
Other effects of a gastrostomy and pump on our social life were not even mentioned: on the intimacy of our relationship; the further fragmentation of our family; our sleeping patterns (the pump works overnight, which means passing urine four, five times a night); being housebound when the pump is going, and so on.
COMPROMISE
We have decided to compromise: 75% nutrition through the PEG, the balance by mouth. So that we can still nip into the occasional cafe for a cup of tea, armed with liquid thickener. Still have a bowl of thickened soup here, a pureed meal once a day, an ice cream.
But with loads of guilt. I tried to tell our speech and language therapist about how guilty I felt.
“I watch each mouthful,” I explained. “I will the food to pass…”
“I sit like a wound-up clock ready to ring the alarm. Then I look at his face, his pleasure. His sigh of pure satisfaction. His smile, ice cream all over his moustache. This gives me absolute joy. But it does not dispel my guilt.”
(First published in RCSLT BULLETIN February 1999)
