Don't Forget To Smell The Flowers

by Joan Curtiss

I'm an advocate for New Mexico's P&A. I have been working with people who have disabilities for over 25 years, originally working as a teacher in an institution for people with the most severe impairments. I had forgotten how interactions with people who have extraordinarily complex needs can have such a profound effect on me and my work.

The woman I was to meet was 39. She had been in a nursing home for 10 years because of the terrible accident she had been in that had left her with traumatic brain injuries. I was told that she had very little awareness of her surroundings, if any. Her family was not particularly involved, and she was at risk of being discharged into an even more isolated setting at a state nursing home.

I walked down the nursing home corridors smiling and saying hello to the scores of elderly people in their wheelchairs. There she was, a beautiful young woman with extremely long shiny black hair. She kept her head down on the lap tray in front of her, occasionally lifting her head up to look into my eyes.I pulled her chair into a room with more privacy. I introduced myself to her and told her I was visiting her to see if she needed information or assistance with the proposed move from her current nursing home. When I said that it would be nice if she could be around other young people, she lifted her head and nodded with determination, her eyes locked on mine, and then her head went down again.When I was done explaining why I was there and asking her if she wanted me to help her in the meetings about her move, I handed her an agency form and a pen. I was ready to provide her with physical assistance to help her scribble a mark, and unsure if she understood, when she readjusted the pen in her fingers and signed her full name on the dotted line.

Shocked at my changed perception of her level of awareness, I reminded myself of receptive language and high abilities that can go unrecognized when one expects very little of another. Surely this was not the same woman who had "no communication skills". I looked her straight in the eye and shook her hand, assuring her our agency would be in touch with her and we would help her participate in her move. She grabbed my hand tightly not letting go easily. I drove home wide eyed, wondering how much my expectations had colored our conversation.