Culture... A word we all know but do we know what it means?
It may not seem important to most but it is becoming more and more pertinent in Health Care as it forms an integral part of the services we provide therefore allowing the 'delivery of high-quality medical care to all members of society'
In an article I read based on this very topic there were a few things that stood out to me. These were:
If we 'treat the concept of culture as static you are at risk of objectifying individuals whose appearance, language, national origin, religion, sexual orientation is different from majority into overly simplistic descriptions of character and behaviour'....
And culture 'is not rigid and is beyond knowledge, skills and attitudes more a type of thinking and knowing- a critical consciousness- of self, others and the world'
And lastly..
'To have this critical consciousness is not learning lists of attributes or a set of questions. It is the development of knowledge and awareness to carry out the social roles and responsibilities of a physician"
SO culture.. a very simple easy word but with a very complex, extremely broad definition. For me, culture is a hard concept to grasp and so my "critical consciousness" is definitely still developing. I even youtubed videos to try gain some clarity.. This is what I stumbled upon:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57KW6RO8Rcs
Culture is our way of life... Culture is everything really...
But anyway one a lighter note, maybe we all just need a little bit of a culture shock.. watch this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkZyvDZFC8Q
Friday, October 18, 2013
OT's and substance abuse :)
Project presentations are over and its hit home that prac is finished until next year.. We were required to make a video promoting an OT service at the prac placements we were at. We did our video on promoting OT for drug rehabilitation as its an area many are unaware that we work in! I've been waiting to post this so please sit back and enjoy :):)
Thursday, October 17, 2013
simply words...
Its not mystery that a lot has been running through my poor brain over the last 9 weeks of prac and something's that I and those close to me continuously repeated to say are similar to what is represented in these pictures below... and I want these to stay in the back of my little brain especially now going into final third year exams and then of course the big daunting 4th year....
MY SOUTH AFRICA
This warmed my heart whilst reading it.. hope it warms yours too
“My South Africa is the working-class man who called from the airport to return my wallet without a cent missing. It is the white woman who put all three of her domestic worker’s children through the same school that her own child attended. It is the politician in one of our rural provinces, Mpumalanga, who returned his salary to the government as a statement that standing with the poor had to be ...more than just a few words. It is the teacher who worked after school hours every day during the public sector strike to ensure her children did not miss out on learning.
My South Africa is the first-year university student in Bloemfontein who took all the gifts she received for her birthday and donated them – with the permission of the givers – to a home for children in an Aids village. It is the people hurt by racist acts who find it in their hearts to publicly forgive the perpetrators. It is the group of farmers in Paarl who started a top school for the children of farm workers to ensure they got the best education possible while their parents toiled in the vineyards. It is the farmer’s wife in Viljoenskroon who created an education and training centre for the wives of farm labourers so that they could gain the advanced skills required to operate accredited early-learning centers for their own and other children.
My South Africa is that little white boy at a decent school in the Eastern Cape who decided to teach the black boys in the community to play cricket, and to fit them all out with the togs required to play the gentelman’s game. It is the two black street children in Durban, caught on camera, who put their spare change in the condensed milk tin of a white beggar. It is the Johannesburg pastor who opened up his church as a place of shelter for illegal immigrants. It is the Afrikaner woman from Boksburg who nailed the white guy who shot and killed one of South Africa’s greatest freedom fighters outside hishome.
My South Africa is the man who went to prison for 27 years and came out embracing his captors, thereby releasing them from their impending misery. It is the activist priest who dived into a crowd of angry people to rescue a woman from a sure necklacing. It is the former police chief who fell to his knees to wash the feet of Mamelodi women whose sons disappeared on his watch; it is the women who forgave him in his act of contrition. It is the Cape Town university psychologist who interviewed the ‘Prime Evil’ in Pretoria Centre and came away with emotional attachment, even empathy, for the human being who did such terrible things under apartheid.
My South Africa is the quiet, dignified, determined township mother from Langa who straightened her back during the years of oppression and decided that her struggle was to raise decent children, insist that they learn, and ensure that they not succumb to bitterness or defeat in the face of overwhelming odds. It is the two young girls who walked 20kms to school everyday, even through their matric years, and passed well enough to be accepted into university studies. It is the student who takes on three jobs, during the evenings and on weekends, to find ways of paying for his university studies.
My South Africa is the teenager in a wheelchair who works in townships serving the poor. It is the pastor of a Kenilworth church whose parishioners were slaughtered, who visits the killers and asks them for forgiveness because he was a beneficiary of apartheid. It is the politician who resigns on conscientious grounds, giving up status and salary because of an objection in principle to a social policy of her political party. It is the young lawman who decides to dedicate his life to representing those who cannot afford to pay for legal services.
My South Africa is not the angry, corrupt, violent country whose deeds fill the front pages of newspapers and the lead-in items on the seven-o’-clock news. It is the South Africa often unseen, yet powered by the remarkable lives of ordinary people. It is the citizens who keep the country together through millions of acts of daily kindness.” -Jonathan Jansen
My South Africa is the first-year university student in Bloemfontein who took all the gifts she received for her birthday and donated them – with the permission of the givers – to a home for children in an Aids village. It is the people hurt by racist acts who find it in their hearts to publicly forgive the perpetrators. It is the group of farmers in Paarl who started a top school for the children of farm workers to ensure they got the best education possible while their parents toiled in the vineyards. It is the farmer’s wife in Viljoenskroon who created an education and training centre for the wives of farm labourers so that they could gain the advanced skills required to operate accredited early-learning centers for their own and other children.
My South Africa is that little white boy at a decent school in the Eastern Cape who decided to teach the black boys in the community to play cricket, and to fit them all out with the togs required to play the gentelman’s game. It is the two black street children in Durban, caught on camera, who put their spare change in the condensed milk tin of a white beggar. It is the Johannesburg pastor who opened up his church as a place of shelter for illegal immigrants. It is the Afrikaner woman from Boksburg who nailed the white guy who shot and killed one of South Africa’s greatest freedom fighters outside hishome.
My South Africa is the man who went to prison for 27 years and came out embracing his captors, thereby releasing them from their impending misery. It is the activist priest who dived into a crowd of angry people to rescue a woman from a sure necklacing. It is the former police chief who fell to his knees to wash the feet of Mamelodi women whose sons disappeared on his watch; it is the women who forgave him in his act of contrition. It is the Cape Town university psychologist who interviewed the ‘Prime Evil’ in Pretoria Centre and came away with emotional attachment, even empathy, for the human being who did such terrible things under apartheid.
My South Africa is the quiet, dignified, determined township mother from Langa who straightened her back during the years of oppression and decided that her struggle was to raise decent children, insist that they learn, and ensure that they not succumb to bitterness or defeat in the face of overwhelming odds. It is the two young girls who walked 20kms to school everyday, even through their matric years, and passed well enough to be accepted into university studies. It is the student who takes on three jobs, during the evenings and on weekends, to find ways of paying for his university studies.
My South Africa is the teenager in a wheelchair who works in townships serving the poor. It is the pastor of a Kenilworth church whose parishioners were slaughtered, who visits the killers and asks them for forgiveness because he was a beneficiary of apartheid. It is the politician who resigns on conscientious grounds, giving up status and salary because of an objection in principle to a social policy of her political party. It is the young lawman who decides to dedicate his life to representing those who cannot afford to pay for legal services.
My South Africa is not the angry, corrupt, violent country whose deeds fill the front pages of newspapers and the lead-in items on the seven-o’-clock news. It is the South Africa often unseen, yet powered by the remarkable lives of ordinary people. It is the citizens who keep the country together through millions of acts of daily kindness.” -Jonathan Jansen
DOWN SYNDROME IS NOT AN ILLNESS
We had an external lecture last week on Down Syndrome which I was unable to blog about until now. The lady who spoke to us has a daughter with Down Syndrome and she spoke a lot about her daughter, showed us pictures etc. and a few things that I found valuable that I took away from her lecture was these:
Watch this video of Megan as I think she gets the point across better than I can :)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YOwDfnoek6E
Don't limit them... allow them to teach you something about yourself
- Down syndrome may cause disabilities however IT IS NOT an illness
- People with Down syndrome have thoughts, feelings, hopes and interest and they know what they want from life!!!! Something I think most forget
- They have their own individual personalities just like we all do!
- They will be as independent as we ALLOW them to be
- They have the same needs that we do
Watch this video of Megan as I think she gets the point across better than I can :)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YOwDfnoek6E
Don't limit them... allow them to teach you something about yourself
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Closing of yet another chapter...
So 9 weeks later prac has come to an end but somehow it
doesn’t even feel like it. Extremely fast 9 weeks. Extremely full 9 weeks. So
much occurred in my time on prac that it’s kind of hard to think back and take
it all in…
I think one of the biggest realisations I have had this
semester due to being placed at a drug rehabilitation centre is that the PEOPLE
we work with are human beings. They are not patients. They are not clients.
They are not service users. They are simply people… and they need to be treated
that way. Maybe it’s because I was working with very high functioning people
and could form proper relationships with them all. But having a relationship
with the guys I was working with was so great. It helped to move away from the
stress and pressure of doing our treatment demonstrations and presentations and
whatever else and just sit down and have a conversation with them. And not only
that but upon leaving prac on our last day when they turned around and thanked
us for what we had done for them. It’s not often that you get that and for me
it made the last unbearably stressful 9 weeks worthwhile.
Going into prac I had a picture in my mind of a drug addict.
This low life, good for nothing person. A picture most of us go through our
entire lives carrying. But wow was I so wrong. Not only were these guys at NPC
PEOPLE, they were more intelligent, genuine, friendly and willing than 99% of
the people in our lives that we call ‘normal’. I found myself sitting up late
at night working on prac stuff not because I was worrying about my marks and
passing prac but because I wanted it to help and benefit my guys as much as
possible. I wanted desperately to help them as much as I could. And for me
that’s what I walk away from this prac with. The satisfaction of knowing I did
at least something, no matter how small that something may be, that helped to
change the lives of the guys I worked with…. The satisfaction of that….. Not
marks…
I knew going into this prac that it was going to be nothing
but tough. I knew I was going to be pulled and pushed in a thousand ways. So
yes it was hard, the hardest prac has ever been for me but weirdly enough
having said that it has been my favourite prac thus far. It has grown me and
moulded me and most of all it has humbled me. I am undoubtedly not the same
person I was when I arrived at NPC 9 weeks ago on the 13 August 2013.
About 4 weeks ago I was collecting sports equipment so that
we could take it to NPC for the guys to use and whilst doing this someone very
close to me turned and said “why would you want to get stuff and give it to
drug addicts”. I was so angry at the time I could not even give an answer to
that ignorant comment. But now I’ll tell you why. Because those drug addicts
are people, really great people. People who can teach you and make you realise
more about this life and yourself than anyone else.
uses their body to tell society
that something is wrong." ~
STELLA ADLER
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
HAPPY MAIL
It sounds really awful to say but during most of my practical's in the last 2 years I've always at some point had thoughts that the treatment and things that I'm doing with my clients isn't really beneficial or making a difference because sometimes it is unrealistic because we only there certain days of the week and for a few weeks... sometimes our learning and academic reasons out weighs the benefit for the client as horrible it is to say that, it is true... This is something that's always sat in the back of my mind and has bothered me and so I have always tried my best to ensure that my clients are benefitting as much as possible...
Today I received an email that changed this for me and gave me such intense happiness. Last semester on my physical prac at a chronic hospital I did a vocational rehabilitation programme with my hemiplegic client where we set up a muffin baking business for him to sell within the hospital. I made him adapted equipment and trained him in all the skills he needed in order to bake the muffins and sell them. Even though I had set it up in a way to ensure sustainability, ever since I walked out of that hospital on the last day of my prac there I have wondered whether he was still baking and selling his muffins. This is the email I received from my supervisor who was with me on prac:
Today I received an email that changed this for me and gave me such intense happiness. Last semester on my physical prac at a chronic hospital I did a vocational rehabilitation programme with my hemiplegic client where we set up a muffin baking business for him to sell within the hospital. I made him adapted equipment and trained him in all the skills he needed in order to bake the muffins and sell them. Even though I had set it up in a way to ensure sustainability, ever since I walked out of that hospital on the last day of my prac there I have wondered whether he was still baking and selling his muffins. This is the email I received from my supervisor who was with me on prac:
Dear Amy
Just a quick encouragement to let you know that Mr Ndlovu is doing really well at Hillcrest hospital… he comes every Friday to bake the muffins.
It truly is remarkable how this has impacted his life. Thank-you for your contribution
Knowing that I made some form of a difference whilst being a student in the process of learning has made me extremely happy. The satisfaction that I feel is amazing and if this is what it feels like to help people and change lives through occupation I really cant wait until I'm doing it every single day of the week, not just twice a week.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Two steps back...
This week on prac I learnt a big lesson... I have a new client who undoubtedly has a personality disorder (which I feel very strongly is the borderline type) although there is no formal diagnosis as yet. Tuesday was my first treatment session with him and before that because we went on holiday we left all our clients with some things to work through during the week we were away. Mainly things like values clarification, self discovery exercises and some questionnaires. So I arrive on Tuesday all planned for a session with him in my mind thinking I wont let him manipulate me I will be in control blah blah blah....
Well did that turn out badly.. I could not even do the session I had planned because he proceeded to question me as to why I was asking him so many questions in the documents I gave him, what did I want from him and it progressively got worse until he started interrogating me and telling me I was a young white girl that knew nothing and many other rather soul piercing things.
Naturally you want to get defensive but I knew that would only make the situation worse and in my head I kept saying he is manipulating you, he is just doing this to get his way....
But I then thought no, maybe he has reason to feel threatened. I had literally just gone in asked him a long spread of questions and then given him more stuff that picked at very personal pieces of information. Fine for a client without a personality disorder who can understand the process and what my intentions were but for someone like him it made him very paranoid and resulted in intense feelings of dislike towards me.
So now I have to take it two steps back with him and purely work on forming a trusting open relationship with him before I even think of starting to address some of his problems.
Even though this client does have a personality disorder I needed to take a look at my own actions and see that what I had done was actually causing the problem and it could easily cause problems with a client who has no personality disorder.
First take a look at yourself...
Well did that turn out badly.. I could not even do the session I had planned because he proceeded to question me as to why I was asking him so many questions in the documents I gave him, what did I want from him and it progressively got worse until he started interrogating me and telling me I was a young white girl that knew nothing and many other rather soul piercing things.
Naturally you want to get defensive but I knew that would only make the situation worse and in my head I kept saying he is manipulating you, he is just doing this to get his way....
But I then thought no, maybe he has reason to feel threatened. I had literally just gone in asked him a long spread of questions and then given him more stuff that picked at very personal pieces of information. Fine for a client without a personality disorder who can understand the process and what my intentions were but for someone like him it made him very paranoid and resulted in intense feelings of dislike towards me.
So now I have to take it two steps back with him and purely work on forming a trusting open relationship with him before I even think of starting to address some of his problems.
Even though this client does have a personality disorder I needed to take a look at my own actions and see that what I had done was actually causing the problem and it could easily cause problems with a client who has no personality disorder.
First take a look at yourself...
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