Detached

The relationship between a client and a social worker is one that is highly professional and can be intensely personal at the same time.  Navigating the boundaries of this relationship can be challenging as a result, but that's not really what I want to get into in this post.

In our involvement with clients, we are sometimes witness to or even participants in some of the most intensely personal moments in a client's life.  And while we may be clear on our role (let's hope we're all up to date on our ethical practices) what can be less clear is how to feel about being a part of these moments.

Today I took a client and his cat to the vet.  He was having the cat put down.  It would have been better if he had a friend or family member to give him a ride and offer support, but there was no one else but me.  The client was very accepting of the fact that this was the right thing to do for his pet who has been sick and suffering, but was obviously still heartbroken to have to go through it.

On the trips to and from, we talked about how he was feeling, his plans for getting through the rest of the day, who he could call for support.  We joked about things to lighten the mood, and he told me happy stories about when he first got the kitten.

I was happy that I was able to support him today, and he didn't have to go through this difficult experience alone.  At the same time, I felt really - weird about being a part of this event.

I love animals, but this was not my cat.  I'm not much of the weepy type, so I wasn't personally upset that the cat had to go.  I like and respect my client, but we're not friends.  I'm not personally invested in how he feels about this loss.  I care and I sincerely hope to see him come through this experience okay, but that's it.  What was upsetting to me was that my presence at this occasion meant a lot more to the client than it did to me.  He deserved to have real love and support today, and all he had was my empathy.

These are the limits of our engagement with clients. If I had cared more, if I had become personally affected, that would be a whole other problem.  So this is one of the challenges, especially if providing long term support to clients, that we inevitably face.  How can we encourage and support clients to develop real loving caring relationships which are not so lopsided?  Which don't involve someone who is being paid to care (that sounds cold, but hey)?  And how do we as workers debrief when we feel too little as opposed to too much?

Back to the Usual

So I'm back this week from some stay-at-home summer holiday.

Everything on Monday was running smoothly and over all it was a nice welcome back to work.  By the afternoon I was marveling at how calm I felt and I wondered how I'd ever let myself get so stressed about work!

So it's near the end of the day and I had pulled over on a quiet street in a shady spot to make a couple quick notes.  Just then, I hear a giant "THUD" and feel the car move like something heavy just got thrown at my passenger side window!  I turned my head quickly and saw a black blur near the bottom of the window before it disappeared.  Thoughts ran through my head - did some kid just whack into my car on their bike/skateboard/wheeled apparatus?  Was someone so upset about me parking in front of their property that they threw something at me?  Did a tree branch fall?

I stretched up and peered  over the (half opened) window to see the biggest, dirtiest black cat I have ever seen.  Scraggly would be an understatement, and you guys - he had a RED eye!  *shudder*

Needless to say it was the creepiest, meanest looking cat I've ever seen.

So, did he jump at me?  Fall out of the tree?  Was he TRYING TO GET IN THE CAR?  I closed the window slowly until he finally sauntered away.

Weird.

Monday, Monday

Last night was nice and cool, so I decided to sleep with the windows open.  Somewhere around midnight (waaay past my bedtime) I was roused from my slumber by a man across the street yelling and shouting.  I went to the window to check it out.  A resident of the low-rise on the corner was speaking to him from his balcony, and the man was shouting up to him from the parking lot.  Since he seemed to be handling it, I went back to bed. 

At least 20 minutes later, the man was still shouting and it seemed my neighbour had given up and was no longer trying to deal with him.  He seemed very distressed, and as I moved back to the window, I could better over hear what he was saying - making declarations of love, crying out to God, cursing and threatening seemed to be the dominant themes.  At this point I decided he was more than likely psychotic, or at least in some kind of crisis, and that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until I had done something. 

Deciding it was not exactly a good plan to dash outside in my pj's and try to counsel this stranger, I got on the computer to look up a local mental health crisis number (I live outside my work area, so I am not as familiar with resources in my own neighbourhood).  By the time I got it and went back to the window to try to see him better, he was gone.  I hoped he was safe.

There seemed nothing better to do than go back to bed and try to sleep.  Unfortunately, my furry nocturnal neighbours decided we hadn't had enough excitement in the neighbourhood for one night, and decided to start fighting over my organics recyling bin.  At least, I think that's what they were doing.  Have you ever heard racoons fight?  It sounds like a cross between a dog fight, cats in heat and an 18-wheeler running over somebody's toes. 

Needless to say, I'm feeling less than lively this Monday morning.  How is the start of your week going?

A Lesson in Democracy

My kiddo’s school is doing a number of things in April to celebrate Earth Day (April 22). One of these is a fundraiser to “help protect wild animals” with the Earth Rangers. According to kiddo, her teacher presented them with four different animals and let the class vote to choose which one to support.

Kiddo and her deskmate/bff voted for the wolverine* but they were the underdogs, so to speak. The rest of the class supported other animals, and ultimately the Peregrine Falcon was the winner.

“It’s so not fair” she says, as “now those other animals will not get our help. It’s so not fair that some of us wanted to pick other animals, but they don’t count because some more people wanted the falcon.”

As a perennial left-wing voter in this current Canadian election campaign, I can totally feel her pain.

It really sucks to feel like your voice is not being heard. I’m sure Elizabeth May knows how the kiddo feels right about now.

The English language debate happens tonight.



*according to her, because it is “such an unusual animal, but maybe we wouldn’t think it was so unusual if it was not endangered and there were more of them.” Her friend picked the wolverine because of XMEN.