Wednesday, January 4, 2017

And the New Year Keeps Rolling Along

Assessment session #1 is done and it was unremarkable. It was largely an interview about my history with voice problems. On the plus side, the assessor repeatedly referred to me as a stutterer so I am more comfortable using that word again instead of having to say I have psychogenic dysfluency. She was also extremely careful to use the conditional tense when talking about any future therapy.
The next session, on January 18, is practical and likely to be more interesting. She said we would be trying various exercises in order to assess my potential for treatment. I told her about my Rand voice and she said we’d be talking about my adaptive techniques next time. But she did say my ability to talk well with friends bodes well for my future.  
I’ve decided that I’ll be okay with it if she says she can’t help me because it won’t mean all hope is lost. I might spontaneously improve and if I don’t my therapy with Dr. Shoja might lead to improvement. Besides, when I am with friends I love and trust, I can speak perfectly and that is enough.
You see murder on TV all the time. You read about it in novels and killing fills movies. I’m sixty-nine years old. I’ve seen murder portrayed a gazillion times and never once thought about the consequences. But all that has changed due to the news I got about Donna, murdered by her husband.
When you hear someone has died, you want to know why or how. If you’re lucky, the answer brings you peace. With murder, you are left with the knowledge your friend has left life in a heinous way.
At a service, you want to hug those with whom you grieve. Wen I think of the service coming up for Donna, I don’t want anything to do with that or with anyone; horror overwhelms the loss. It’s worse than mere death.
And Alex, who died in Puerto Vallarta last week, where he loved to go and where he found idyllic winter happiness, he had listed my buddy Bruce on his passport as the person to contact in the event of an emergency because, as I have written here before, he and Bruce and their mutual friend Michael, all had apartments in the same building so that they could care for one another. And so now Bruce may have to fly to Mexico to identify Alex’s body.
I’m still not used to its being 2017.

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