Apart from my volunteering work for the gay community I also
worked with mentally retarded people. There was this leisure society where my boyfriend
was volunteering and he introduced me. Every second and fourth Saturday of the
month we all gathered together in an old building that once belonged to the
fire brigade. Lots of activities were done there and we always had lots of fun.
There were plenty of mentors and they made several couples. Every now and then
we also had meetings to discuss a variety of matters. Although this was
completely new for me I enjoyed volunteering there very much. Once I heard that
homes for mentally retarded people always are looking for volunteers and I
called one home not too far from where I lived. We had 3 meetings where we
discussed the purpose of having volunteers, how volunteers could fit in, which
of the residing people needed a volunteer, what was expected from me etc. etc.
After the third meeting, we went to the resident's department where Theo lived, a
young man who had had a lack of oxygen when he was born which had caused severe
brain damage. After his father had passed away he did not want to go home
anymore. His only sister and brother in law were having problems health problems
and could not come over to spend time with Theo very much. That is where I
fitted in perfectly. He did not know I was coming to see him this first
meeting. The meeting was merely meant for observation. While I was standing
there, talking with the caregivers I could not see Patrick coming in. But I
sure heard him when he stood close behind me. “Prick! Cunt! Damn it!” he
shouted out loud followed by “Why are you here?” in a soft voice. “That is
Patrick and he has Asperger syndrome,” the caregivers told me while I was
letting myself down again from the chandelier. Never will I forget that moment.
Theo, I learned, gets
easily used to some habits so I was advised to never walk or ride the same way
home when I was picking him up. So one day we went straight to my house, the
next time via a small zoo and another time we did some shopping first. Theo had
the habit to talk to strangers when he was excited about something and I guess
the caretakers always told him something like “Theo, tomorrow it is Sunday and
you know what? Then comes Frans comes to pick Theo up. Isn’t that nice?” Soon, everybody, we saw on our way home
everybody was told “Hello! Me Theo. And comes Frans comes and pick up Theo!”
Then he would turn to me and ask me “Who is that?” Theo was fond of crosswords. The funny thing was that he took the ‘cross’ too literally. All blank
spaces were filled up with…crosses. The caregivers once told me they were so
glad I picked him up every 2 weeks because they then could clear out his huge
bag that was filled to the brim with crosswords and pictures with lots of reed
in it. He loved that color which he, by the way, called ‘rug’.
It was very sad that I had to stop seeing Theo after my
mother passed away and I had to take care of my father who was suffering from emphysema.
He died one and a half years later in a house for the elderly.
Now that I was an ‘orphan’ I felt somewhat guilty, thinking
I could and should have done more for my parents. Soon I decided to start
studying nursing. In a hospital, only 10 kilometers away I found a job where I
worked while studying. This study I never finished. Being in my thirties it was
hard to be handled like a young adolescent one time while being seen as a grown-up man the other time. Not long before graduating I stopped and found a job as a caregiver. The idea to work through an agency seemed to work out right since I
worked in several nursing homes and thus could pick the one where I liked to
work as a permanent employee. Later I started working in homecare which I even
liked much better.
Thinking back I guess those were the best years of my life
back in the Netherlands. I really loved this work. Sometimes it was hard of
course. It is never easy to see people who you took care of for some period
die. On the other hand, one can feel satisfied with what one had done for these
people. But not all people died at that time of course. There were also young
women and men who were disabled. What I have never understood is the fact that
many caregivers cannot see that basically, they are guests in other people’s
homes. Sure they need help but still, they are in control of their own lives.
One woman was very aware of that and when a caregiver came in to tell this
woman it was time to go to bed she always used to say “Definitely not! There
are still 2 programs on TV I want to see and I need to smoke at least 6 more
cigarettes!” Since I was only working in the nightshift she knew exactly when I
was on duty and so she told everyone “Frans will bring me to bed. At the time I
want!” Not too many liked her because of this attitude but I always found that
she was very right. We got along together very well and often when I came to
help her to bed we first sat and talked a lot.
Unfortunately things changed and everything, even healthcare
had to be more profitable. Many people lost their jobs. Me too almost around
the same time when my partner-on-a-distant died. It came time to leave the
country and start a completely different life in the Philippines. But that is
what my book Kalapati is all about.
Since I don’t like to have secrets I hope that I am like an
open book. So if you want to know something, just ask away!
Love the ones you’re
with and be loved in return.
Post a Comment