I started doing volunteer work in the rehab unit at Bay Shore Hospital last week, and I really liked it. But one of the occupational therapists started giving me very obvious hints that I was in the way. Yesterday I was really upset. I did some work on another unit, Skilled Nursing, yesterday. When I was done, I went to see if there was anything for me to do in Rehab.
This particular O.T. said to me: "We wanted you to make some phone calls for the social worker, but there's so much to write down that it would be too much work for you. There are four O.T.'s, and the one who is the nicest to me is alternating between two hospitals. One is okay with me, and the other one ignores me. Then there's this one.
Well, I was boiling by this time. I was thinking, They don't know what is too much work for me. Mom was trying to explain it, but I saw no reason for them to be that way. When I got home, I called Mike, the head of the volunteer program. I told him how I felt and that I would like to find another unit to work on. I had already been asked to work in Skilled Nursing for an hour and a half on Tuesday and Thursday.
He asked if I had any ideas. I said I would really like to work in Pediatrics and that I could read to the kids or help them do arts and crafts or whatever.
"Well, how would you get from one room to another?"
I wanted to scream. That was the most ridiculous question I have ever been asked because I have walked in there in front of his face with my brand?new cane! "I have a cane," I said (as confidently and enthusiastically as possible.)
"Well, there's stuff in the halls."
"That's what it's for. It will make a loud noise, but I'll get over it." I could not believe this! For my entire life people have been telling me that adults know what a cane is. The more I get out, the more I see that that was a bunch of bologna.