Long ago, when I was a nurse, I worked for several years at a hostel for multi-handicapped people, in Perth, Western Australia. Even though this job was initially extremely confronting due to the severity of the various disabilities suffered by the residents in this hostel, I loved working there. However, one of the most challenging situations was caring for those people who were ‘tactile defensive’, who didn’t like to be touched. Zac was one of those people. He was eight years old, blind, deaf, could only walk with assistance and (supposedly) ‘mentally retarded’. He spend most of the day rocking, groaning, gnawing his hands and headbanging and, yes, he hated to be touched. Feeding, bathing, dressing him, putting his protective helmet on and bandaging his hands, was not a job for the faint-hearted because he would lash out and scream despite our gentleness with him. I don’t think I have ever come across a person or situation more heartbreaking. His family never visited because I think they just found it too hard.
The description, ‘tactile defensive’ has never left me and, in terms of the birds, it is the peafowl who most remind me of Zac because, even though they are not disabled, they hate to be touched. I can pat all of ‘the gang’ (the chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys) but not the peacocks and peahens. The weird thing is that the peafowl will happily touch me – peck at my hands for bread, peck at my knees for bread, peck at my toes for bread – but if I reach out to pat them, they let out little yelps and back away.
I have a healthy respect for those who are ‘tactile defensive’, so when Queenie (our oldest female) stepped on my foot as I was distributing bread this morning, I patted her back without thinking and she let me! Mind you, it was only one quick pat and she stood back and looked at me quizzically, as if we had both entered a parallel universe!
Once, Zac, quieter than usual, reached out and touched my hand with his wounded fist. As usual, the bandages had come off. I held his bruised and bloodied hand in mine for around five seconds and he stopped rocking and raised his face to ‘look’ at me with his blind eyes. Every time I am able to pat a peacock, I will think of that moment with Zac.
jmgoyder 