Table Talk

Caregiver City, Planet Aphasia

There's a line in a 1960s movie that is engraved somewhere in the space between my ears. In 'Two for the Road'---while eating a meal on the French Rivera---Audrey Hepburn asks Albert Finney: "What kinds of people sit at a table and don't talk to each other?" Then they both burst out
 laughing and say in unison, "Married people!"

Before my husband's stroke, Don and I never lacked for reasons to flap our jaws. But on rare occasions when we found ourselves not speaking at a table, that movie line would have a temper tantrum inside my head and demand an explanation. Sometimes our silence was from a deep, comfortable companionship like two sleeping puppies in a cardboard box. Other times the silence might have been part of a tiny tiff caused by something like a cap left off the toothpaste---I couldn't help that, I was abducted by a UFO! Or maybe we'd be sitting silent, both of us voyeuristically tuned into a dialogue between two space cadets at near by table.

I'm having trouble learning how to be old. I've got coupon clipping down pat, but I forget to take them to the store. I know about the two-for-one breakfast special at our favorite restaurant but when I haul Don out of bed to go, we show up on the wrong day. I know how to knit but that doesn't count, I've been doing it since I was a kid. I like cats, but I don't want to split cans of tuna with one on a daily basis. About the only rule in the 'Old People Handbook' that I've got mastered is the one about going to the Friday night fish fries.

The fish fries are held in a no-frills private club with a banquet room and kitchen, a bar, a couple of bowling lanes and pool tables. It's the only place in town where you're just as likely to see an Elvis impersonator for entertainment as you are a Polish polka band that has one member who missed one too many accordion lessons when he was kid, and the lady's auxiliary often sells chocolate cake that you can wash down with your beer. We don't drink but since the stroke Don likes this place because there's always a chance he'll run into someone from his distance past. He's out trolling for friends.

Related information
  • Three-hundred-and-fifty people were lined up at tables like dairy cows at automated feeders, computer chips in their ear tags telling the machine how much cow chow to send down the shoot.
  • Don could usually sweet-talk the freckles off a girl's face, but he couldn't get a piece of pie in North Dakota.
  • "Hey, I need more fish over here!" a man shouts while I'm feeling as lonely as a Maytag repairman. What kinds of people sit at a table and don't talk to each other? People dealing with the stroke related language disorder, aphasia.
 
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Please check out my 'Aphasia and Stroke Caregivers Guide' at: http://www.squidoo.com/strokecaregiver

Posted on 04/20/2008 at 10:04:39 AM

Jean, So much of what you say connects. I especially like your final sentence. "He's out trolling for friends." So too is my aphasic husband. If a person can't speak or express language well, it's tough to strike up a relationship to gain new friends. Old friends are wonderful, but they don't always hang on after a stroke, and they don't always want to carry the whole conversation. Plus, the only thing to speak about that they have in common is their history, old stories. It's tough to make new stories - especially where there is physical limitation. Old fishing or hunting buddies have little time for a one-armed man who has to be lifted onto a boat and helped to fish...not to mention that the friend must also be able to ask hundreds of questions to clarify the information the aphasic is trying to share. Trolling for friends is a very important part of life for an aphasic. True friends are few. Thank God for Brain Injury Support Groups. Friends gather who understand a

Posted on 02/22/2008 at 5:02:31 PM

Check out my blog at: http://fromtheplanetaphasia.blogspot.com/

Posted on 10/09/2007 at 4:10:00 PM

I think this is my favorite article of yours. I really enjoyed this.

Posted on 05/30/2007 at 1:05:00 PM

I couldn't relate to this article because of the white fish. All the place you describe in my sphere serve catfish, but they're exactly the same otherwise. As are we all.

Posted on 01/12/2007 at 6:01:00 PM

Sharon, I've always been a person who looks for the positives in any dark situation and finding the humor in my caregiver role is definitely a coping mechanism that works well for me. Not everything I write about our aphasia journey is humorous and I may share a few of those articles as well. I've got a serious one processing right now titled, "Today's Word is Aphasia" that is a serious attempt to educate people about this condition.

Posted on 01/09/2007 at 10:01:00 AM

"a bushel and a peck of macho-man flirting" was my favorite phrase. Again - a well written and riveting peek. Just curious - was your wittiness and sense of humor this well developed before his stroke? Or did it come as a coping mechanism as did mine?

Posted on 01/09/2007 at 10:01:00 AM

Another beautifully phrased journey into your world. "stuff white fish into the biggest hole in their faces." is my facroite line from this one, LOL.

Posted on 01/08/2007 at 11:01:00 PM

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