Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Diversional Therapy

Towards the end of the year, I spent the afternoon with the doctor at one of the local nursing homes. Not long after we’d arrived, the residents started their afternoon of “Diversional Therapy” ... those poor bastards.

We could hear it loud and clear from our room down the hall – even with the door closed. The Diversional Therapist, a middle-aged lady who was probably perfectly pleasant, sang in a loud, flat voice all of the songs that old country people must know. “Waltzing Matilda” followed “Road to Gundagai”, which followed some song about “Reading, Writing and ‘Rithmatic”.

Occasionally, unenthusiastic drones from the residents themselves would accompany the “therapist’s” recital.

As I sat there slowly going insane, I wondered how it was even possible for the residents to maintain a semblance of cognitive function. Clearly they were a resilient lot.

Next thing I knew, a shrill rooster call pierced the air, followed by another and then another. They were coming from a female resident down the hall, and went on for the rest of the afternoon, occasionally interjected by her requests for somebody called Julie to “turn off that awful music!

No comments: