Wall

I had the toughest day at school today. It’s the first time that it is totally unrelated to studying. My poor friends probably roll their eyes every time I give them a play-by-play on what chapter I’m currently on. Sorry friends.

Today, we had clinic where we focused on clients with special needs: cancer survivors, chronic pain sufferers, geriatric, and wheelchair bound. My client was all the above. I knew from the get-go that this was going to be quite an experience. She had an uncommon name so I asked her how to pronounce it. I know from experience how annoying it can be for someone to mispronounce your name. Her response, “Whatever.” The wall was up between us and it was pretty damn high. She wanted nothing to do with me or the massage she was about to get.

I did everything by the book: I asked her leading questions about her health, what her last massage was like, what her preference was when it comes to pressure. Her responses did not exceed three words: “I don’t know,” “I don’t remember,” “I don’t care.” Figuring that this intake was going nowhere fast, I helped her into the clinic room.

I adjusted the table so it would be easier for her to transfer from her chair and asked what the best way to move her would be. We haven’t covered the ins and outs of moving a special needs person. To my inquiry, my client replied, “Whatever you usually do.”

Fast-forward, I helped her undress and get her on the massage table. It took three of us to do so.

The massage started pretty smoothly. I made some adjustments but overall, it went pretty well…until it was time to flip. The easiest thing to do would be to not move her at all but her last therapist had suggested back work and since she’s in the wheelchair for the majority of her day, she could really benefit from it. This step, took four of us. Once we got her on her side, we decided it would be best to stay there. The whole time, she told us how she couldn’t believe it was taking this long to move her. Encouraging words…

Again, once the massage started, everything was calm. After her hour was up, we managed to get her dressed, back in her chair, and back to her husband who was waiting in the lobby. I thanked her for coming and for being so patient and sent her on her way.

Once I got back to the clinic room, I was filled with emotions. I was sad, I was angry, I was frustrated, and most of all exhausted. I wanted to do so much for this woman but she just wouldn’t let me in. I’m no stranger to these types of people. I’ve had many restaurant customers whom I could never please. The problem is when they don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong, or what I can do better. Just tell me that you hate my face and I can move on. I can’t let things like this go. It lingers with me for days and then reappears when I’m having a particularly terrible day.

So naturally, I cried.

My instructor and classmates supported me. They shared my pain and frustration. Then, a classmate told me that even though I couldn’t see because I was pushing the wheelchair, my client left with a slight smile on her face. That’s all I wanted. I just wanted to help her relax and I hate that I couldn’t see that for myself.

There will be more difficult clients in my future and I know that not all of them will express their gratitude. But, I will not give up. I am determined to chip at these walls, no matter how many tears I shed.