There Are No Words

Chapter 14A

Jenny

"The man threw the hose to the ground because he had to shut the water off," he says. "Tell me. What did the man throw to the ground, Jenny?"

"Hose," I answer, proud of myself.

Uncle Artair and I are doing "WH" and How exercises. With my condition, it is often hard for me to process WH questions; Who? Why? Where? When?

"How?" questions sometimes stump me as well.

I have no idea why these questions are so much more difficult for me than other ones. I mean, why can I can process some things just fine, but others are so much harder?

"Good, Jenny. Now listen," Uncle Artair instructs. "Simon kissed Mrs. Ruther for her birthday. Who did Simon kiss?" he asks.

I'm about to answer my Uncle when the response leaves me. I just stare at him blankly.

"Come on, Jenny. You can do this," he encourages me. Let me rephrase the question for you. That might help.

"What is the name of the woman Simon kissed?" he repeats.

"Can...say...first part again?" I ask.

"We'll come back to that question. Let's try a different one. The cat ate the catnip when her owner wasn't looking. Got that?" he asks, and I nod my head. "Now, when did the cat eat the catnip, Jenny?"

"Owner not look."

"Yes! Great, Jenny. Good. Let's keep going."

I blow the hair in my eyes away and for the millionth time, think about how twisted my brain is. I'm happy that I can finally answer these questions most of the time (because there was a point after my fall in which I could not), but when I trip over one every now and then, it's disappointing. I know I've come a long way because of my Uncle's help, though, so I keep practicing.

I'm driven to continue to improve. The other day at the garden store I was frustrated by the way the salesman and his assistant treated me. I don't want that to keep happening.

The salesman was trying to explain to me about the different amounts of shade, sunlight, and watering our cart of different flowers needed. I could hear what he was saying, but he was speaking so fast, the words started to jumble on me. I tried to follow him, but it was difficult.

Then he started to ask me questions to make sure I understood what he was saying.

"So, you understand, right? You got this?" he asked clearly unconfident in my abilities, "What do these pansies like?" and "How much water should these roses get?"

When I started to lose the conversation, he looked at me like I was mentally incompetent. He called over a nice woman who tried to help, but she mistook my inability to answer as if I were hard of hearing. She was yelling at me and I flinched. I'm not deaf. I could hear her just fine when she spoke. It was the processing of what was being said that was frustrating me.

"Kelly Drive," I say to Uncle Artair, returning to our practice and responding to his present question about where people like to ride bikes.

"Another good answer. One more question. Mabel went to the drug store for some headache medicine," he states. "Where did Mabel go?"

"She went store drug."

I roll my eyes at myself. Figures. I mixed things up again. Oh well, I just have to keep going.

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Photography Copyright 2018 A. E. F.

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Here is a resource for learning more about helping someone with Aphasia, and also a mock speech therapy session that addresses practicing WH questioning.:

 Silkes, JoAnn P. Seven Strategies for Providing Audiological Services to Adults with Aphasia. The ASHA Leader, June 2012, Vol. 17, 5-6.  https://leader.pubs.asha.org/article.aspx?articleid=2280525.