Nancy

A few weeks back, I had the privilege of working at a Non-profit Organization Special Care Centre that specifically helps severe to profoundly intellectually and physically disabled children and adults. Each client had their own unique personality, and I grew to love them all.

One of these clients is a girl called Nancy who has Down's Syndrome. I think Nancy had a severe hatred for Ariel and myself. We may have been the instigators of this hatred, however. Nancy likes things certain ways. She likes to get her way too. She is a strong girl and loves to work out on the rowing-machine (I would know, I was manipulated by those muscles more than a number of times). The bruises are gone but the emotional pain is still present.

Nancy would never let myself, Ariel or Cameron change her bedding and I mean NEVER. Being the typical Florence Nightingale trained nurses we are, we know that hygiene is important, so Ariel and I decided to change Nancy's bedding while she wasn't looking. Big mistake. Just as we managed to pull the duvet up, Nancy walked into her room and freaked. She shoved me to the side (those muscles) and ripped the new bedding off, and went into the dirty laundry to find old sheets. Yeugh. I'm 95.6% sure she took someone else's urine-soaked sheet.

Nancy constantly wears a bandage on her arm - for no particular reason - and looks like a 'cutter'. She wore the bandage for so long that she got heat rash underneath it. The sister in charge removed it and all hell broke loose. Nancy ran up to me one day, grabbed my wrist (those muscles) and dragged me to the Sister's office screaming "COME!". She then demanded that I tell the Sister that she needs her bandage. I didn't do that and boy oh boy she started hurting me (those damn muscles, again!). Nancy is considered to be the Matron of the sanctuary - that's how in control of everything she is. She insisted on making the beds with us in the morning, and after we made beds, she would inspect our handiwork (and would usually pull everything off and do it herself because our three years of training apparently made us absolutely useless at making beds).

I remember very clearly a time when Nancy pulled a sleeping girl, Lisa, out of bed so she could remove the linen. Lisa nearly landed head first on the floor, but just walked straight to the bathroom without even batting an eyelid. Lisa is autistic, but for some reason, I kept calling her an atheist.. But that's a WHOLE 'nother story.

My favourite memory of Nancy is from 'Music Time'. Music therapy is used to help rehabilitate the clients and Nancy freaking loved it. On Monday at 15:00 you were guaranteed to find Nancy in the main hall headbanging while beating a huge round drum. God forbid you take the drum, or her drumsticks away, because she will beat you down - those damn muscles.

*Note: If you have money to spare and would like to donate to this incredible organization, let me know and I'll give you the details. They really do need all the help they can get, and I am witness to the fact that they change lives on a daily basis.