Diaries as Conversations

Weather wise, it was a dull day. No sunshine, but no rain either. Once I’d done all my morning chores, I went back to bed and slept. Every time I sleep, I hope my speech is back when I rise. But when my lips won’t even move into position to say a word, I know that I am locked.

My friend, Tracey, who’s a speech language pathologist thinks I have a block. A block is when stutterers experience spaces of silence when they are trying to speak. Blocks have always been my problem. I’m less of a repeater—when stutterers repeat initial phonemes as in s-s-s-a-seven. Tracey thinks I have a semi-permanent block. 

I was identifying more as a non-verbal person, and not a stutterer, and it made me wonder about participating any longer with my stuttering groups. But Tracey said that, to her, I am still a stutterer, and I was grateful to her for seeing me that way because I get so, so incredibly much support from the stuttering community. 

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We went for our walk early. I wanted to avoid encountering any people. I won’t be as fearful of meeting people on the trails, once I have my “non-verbal” buttons to wear. It was wonderful even though it was cloudy. It was silent as we walked; the birds must have been sleeping in. Walking in the forest never fails to make me feel blissful. 

When we got home, I felt obligated to water the garden beds. I was not enthusiastic as I uncoiled my mile long hose, but in the end, I was feeling fabulous. My plants are my friends. It felt so, so good to feed them. They needed my attention and lots of water. While I was watering, the sky cleared and the day became bright and sunny.

Colleen came over. She lives next door. She was returning my little electric chainsaw. She wants to get one, but I suggested we share mine, and since I bought it, she can look after maintaining it. And she loved the idea. I share a splitter with Dave, and now a saw with Colleen. It makes so much sense to share.

I talked to Colleen and it sounded like a deaf person speaking. She understood what I was saying, but I had to go very slowly and often repeat things. I use key words, and no grammar. I’m not keen to talk like that. I’d rather write a note, but I had nothing to write on and no pen. 

It’s different when I go out. I have a nice leather purse in which I can fit my phone, a pad, a pen, and even my iPad. Plus, I wear my Apple all the time, and I wear a whistle. The degree with which being non-verbal has changed my life dramatically. Also, when I go out, I often have a written note to take explaining things or with questions apt for whomever I am visiting.

Next up was lunch. And then I rested a bit before going back to work watering the front beds and the edible garden beds. And you know, it gets me outside, and time passes constructively. I’d forgotten how great it is to be outside doing yard and garden work. I was very happy to be out there. I love my plants, and I feel like a good dad attending to them today.

When I finished watering, I had taken note of holes in the beds that I would like to fill. And one plant I really wanted was a Skimmia. I wanted a couple of them. So, I went to the nursery and they had one, but it was a nice one, and I got two bags of soil. There were two people I know at the nursery. They both were wonderful in how they responded to me being non-verbal. It gave me hope and contentment. 

When I had finished planting the Skimmia, I was toast. It was time for a spa, and since it was My Day, I cancelled our second walk. I was just too beat. I wanted to get into my jammies after the spa and settle into our wonderful evening routine. I just love our evenings. The cats love to join me on the chaise, and Sheba loves to sleep. Although we had no second walk, she had a lot of exercise being outdoors and playing with Coleen’s dog, Sosa, all day.

It hit hard, not being able to speak to the two women at the nursery. I signed that I couldn’t speak, and they hugged me. Every little thing like that helps me feel a bit better about being non-verbal. I feel good that I wrote my article in the paper, too. I told my community who I was and about the work I am doing to make the 911 service accessible for people like me. And that work is going very, very well. My initiative to write to the management of the 911 service is leading to great outcomes. 

More than that, by immediately bringing Aidan into the conversation, it became a SPACE project. Our concern has been embraced by Darren. Darren is our contact at BC Emergency Health Services. The outcomes of our teamwork will become an achievement SPACE can proudly announce and own—just as we move to trying to develop a healthy membership for our society.

I keep diaries for the two people for whom my thoughts and questions play a big part of our relationship: Dr. S. and Aidan. When I send the text of the diary to them, I wait until there are lots of thoughts too share. Writing Aidan’s diary has given me a new form of communicating with people with whom I’m regularly intellectually engaged.

Today is likely to be like yesterday, so I may get more work done, and then, with luck, rain tomorrow. Fat chance! But I shall hope. There are a million things that I want to do in the yard, gardens and shed, and soon I want to get more wood for next Winter.

This morning I am going to meet with two people who own an incredible home where Ali and Pete celebrated Ali’s birthday last Sumer. I’ve met Dana once and I’ve never met Brent. Dana was impressed with the cake I made for Ali (for 50 people) and so they have asked me to make two cakes for a big party they are having in early July.

We’ve been back and forth about things, so I’m not sure why they want to meet with me and, of course, I’m rather worried about communication. But I know it will go okay. Dana is a lovely person. And I hope to do some reading today. Yesterday, I did none. It was a working day, watering, pruning and toting.