Our faces and therapy

There has been much in the news lately about Ramsay Hunt syndrome, which I was bestruck by some twenty-five years ago. At the time I was facilitating a group and one member said to me ‘Judi, I think you have had a stroke’ – there was no pain at the time and at that point I did not realise that one of my eyes would not close and half of my face did not move.

It was a scary and bewildering experience to look in the mirror and not see my face as I knew it. I had extensive physio, had to wear an eye patch to protect my non closing eye for about 6 months and underwent surgery on that eye. I did not need speech therapy and now more than two decades later I am left with about 60% capacity in ‘that’ side of my face, a limited blink mechanism and as the nerves grow back, but not exactly as they should or need to, some twitches.

I spent time wanting my old face back, mourning the loss, as therapists we use our face all the time and I continue to wonder if clients notice the unusual parts of my face. On one occasion a new client, who had the same, spotted it and mentioned it within 30 mins of her assessment.

Of course, with the advent of zoom for both therapy and teaching I am looking at my face in ways that hitherto I did not. This leads me to think more of therapists with other, both seen and not seen disabilities.

My lifelong colleagues have got used to the difference and maybe don’t even notice it anymore. However, I wonder what clients make of therapists with infirmities of any sort. Do we mention them/it or do we not? What does that do to the process?

There is a great deal written on working with clients with disability but very little the other way round. Many years ago:

A AschH Rousso stated in Psychiatry in 1985

Disability as a characteristic of the therapist needs to be addressed for several reasons. First, substantial evidence indicates that people without visible disabilities or physical differences regard persons who diverge from ideals of physical perfection and norms of physical acceptability with a variety of emotions which–at the very least–alter ordinary social interaction.

And

Once trained, many disabled clinicians have faced hurdles in obtaining employment, in advancing within their profession, in being selected as faculty members or supervisors, and even in obtaining referrals from nondisabled colleagues

Have we moved on from this?

Maggie Fisher in Therapy Today, April 2015 Volume 26 Issue 3 stated

Society’s attitudes to visible disability enter the consulting room with me and the client. What beliefs, implications and assumptions regarding disability are brought and constellated? Disability tends to be seen within the framework of dependency and inability (the medical model). It can also be viewed as a punishment for sin, or even as being contagious (the moral model). These attitudes are influenced by many factors, including myth, superstition and an able-bodied anxiety around losing body integrity. As a disabled person, one can also be viewed as courageous, saintly and empathic, or even ascribed intellectual or psychological gifts as compensation for disability (the tragedy model).

Thus, when we work in the field of PRT when frequently we look at the co-morbidity between the organic (physical) and non-organic (psychological/emotional) do those of us with any form of disability have a different lens with which to view the work? A felt experience?

The body parts that don’t quite work as we would like them to, but nonetheless function adequately or well?

What barometer should we be using?

These are just musings precipitated by the news recently and allowed again, to consider the impact of disability in the consulting room, particularly a little known one.

Judi Keshet-Orr
Founder and Course Director LDPRT

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