Interweb, meet Lyndsey. My long time friend and now roommate (again). I am always entertained by the stories she brings home from work, and requested that she guest blog about the latest one.
Read. Laugh. Repeat.
As a speech pathologist, I come in contact with various individuals with what I like to call “altered mental statuses.” Usually due to a stroke or head injury of sorts, these folks, while unfortunately impaired, tend to say things that provide me with much entertainment. Every job has it’s “perks,” right?
Meet Mr. B - an African American male in his 60’s who suffered a stroke to the right side of his brain. As a result, the left side of his face is significantly drooped and speech very slurred. To treat deficits such as these, I lead him in exercises such as saying “ooo” and “eee” making the mouth pucker, then smile…back and forth, back and forth. You get the idea. Well, after a few repetitions, Mr. B. informs me that I should be glad that he, unlike many in “his black race” did not have juicy lips. I chuckle and reply, “I suppose I should, huh?” He then goes on to explain what it would be like if he did, “It would be like two hamburger patties smacking in your face”. Again, I laugh, “Mr. B, you are just cuttin’ up today aren’t you?” “Well, some peoples lips just bees that juicy!” he replies.
Day two of therapy consists of some of the same conversation (typical for a stroke patient) and before I know it, Mr. B has started calling me “Juice”. That’s right, Juice is now my name to him. I suppose it’s his way of associating who I am with what I make him do. Who even knows. I go with it, but want to make sure he’s not being a dirty old man, so I ask, “Now, Mr. B, Juice is just a friendly name, right?” To which I get, “Yes, it is. But don’t tell yo momma and daddy I call you that!” Right on, Mr. B…whatever. Well, later, when I return him to his room, I turn on the TV and the theme music to The Price is Right is playing. Instinctively, I do a little jig out of the room…you know, just feeling the beat and getting on outta there. Well, I am almost out the door when I hear, “Juice! Don’t go!!” I turn around as Mr. B beckons me to the side of his wheelchair and whispers, “They gonna call you “Fast Ass” with you shakin yo booty like dat!” Hmmmm…thanks for the warning, Mr. B.
Meet Mr. B - an African American male in his 60’s who suffered a stroke to the right side of his brain. As a result, the left side of his face is significantly drooped and speech very slurred. To treat deficits such as these, I lead him in exercises such as saying “ooo” and “eee” making the mouth pucker, then smile…back and forth, back and forth. You get the idea. Well, after a few repetitions, Mr. B. informs me that I should be glad that he, unlike many in “his black race” did not have juicy lips. I chuckle and reply, “I suppose I should, huh?” He then goes on to explain what it would be like if he did, “It would be like two hamburger patties smacking in your face”. Again, I laugh, “Mr. B, you are just cuttin’ up today aren’t you?” “Well, some peoples lips just bees that juicy!” he replies.
Day two of therapy consists of some of the same conversation (typical for a stroke patient) and before I know it, Mr. B has started calling me “Juice”. That’s right, Juice is now my name to him. I suppose it’s his way of associating who I am with what I make him do. Who even knows. I go with it, but want to make sure he’s not being a dirty old man, so I ask, “Now, Mr. B, Juice is just a friendly name, right?” To which I get, “Yes, it is. But don’t tell yo momma and daddy I call you that!” Right on, Mr. B…whatever. Well, later, when I return him to his room, I turn on the TV and the theme music to The Price is Right is playing. Instinctively, I do a little jig out of the room…you know, just feeling the beat and getting on outta there. Well, I am almost out the door when I hear, “Juice! Don’t go!!” I turn around as Mr. B beckons me to the side of his wheelchair and whispers, “They gonna call you “Fast Ass” with you shakin yo booty like dat!” Hmmmm…thanks for the warning, Mr. B.
4 comments:
Wow...I laughed pretty hard at that post. :) Thanks, Lyndsey. And, thank YOU, Amanda for having her share it!
love it. lynds, you need your own blog! thanks for sharing amanda.
hilarious! lyndsey, join the blogging world!! come on! there's way too much funny living under that roof not to.
i agree. i usually have a stomach ache from laughter after hanging out with lyndsey and would love to read more!
i need more guest blogger...
i gotta have more guest blogger...
i got a fever and the only cure is more guest blogger...
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