Inappropriate work place behavior.

The BBQ Pit
1

I was kissing a client.

It was no big deal, really. I do it a lot. In this particular client’s case, it does tend to be a bit more . . . well . . . wet. And she grabs my beard and holds on when I kiss her.

So, I should explain that I work with mentally retarded people, most of whom are physically handicapped as well. It is not entirely common for members of my profession to kiss our adult clients, on the lips. I know that.

So, I get a “warning” from a coworker. Someone is going to write me up for kissing this particular client.

Round five, although no one who currently works with us remembers round one through four.

The client in question is now twenty something. She is still very small, as a result of physical health factors during her life. She is pretty much child sized, although physically mature. It is certainly true that sexual involvement of any sort with a client would be criminal. There was no warning of criminal charges. The person knows that there is no sexual component in the kisses. They are just the sort of kisses one gives to a baby, or child, or gets from a baby or child.

Now I don’t think every care giver in the world should kiss every client. Mostly I don’t think you should kiss clients on the lips at all. It’s a health risk, for one thing. And you have to be careful of sexual feelings on the part of the client, quite aside from the absence of any of your own.

But I don’t intend to give up kissing this particular client. It’s not an everyday sort of relationship. It isn’t even a regular long term (twenty three years) relationship. I don’t quite know how to explain all the things that make it different. I have done rescue breathing with her more than a dozen times. I watched a surgeon cut her open from her navel to her neck. I spent four hours a day feeding her for more than a year. I went to the Emergency Room with her twenty or thirty times. I taught her to roll back to front, and front to back, and to pull herself to sitting. She chose my beard as an appropriate tool to assist herself in that task. She later used it to learn to stand up. Some of that was done over the objections of health care professionals because she was terminally ill, and had no chance of surviving even a year. I was advised to “let her die in peace.” The people who said it had excellent reasons to believe it would be true.

But, she didn’t die, and I didn’t stop kissing her. When the kisses came up as a professional issue the first time, I did something about it.

I asked her mom if it would be all right for me to kiss her daughter a whole lot. Mom thinks it’s cool. Mom even said she would tell our social worker it was OK. The social worker already knew.

So, to the fifth tight ass in the last twenty years:

Yes, I am kissing her. No, I am not going to stop. No, I don’t care what you think of it. You aren’t even important enough to piss me off anymore.

She loves me. I love her. Every day, when I first see her, I yell her name out very loudly, and throw my arms around her. She laughs, and kisses me. I don’t even take care of her, anymore. I just come by for the kisses. And out of seven or eight hundred of the people who have seen it, you and four other assholes found it objectionable.

Fuck off.

Tris

2

I’m with you, Tris. If she doesn’t mind, her mom doesn’t mind, and you don’t mind, who else’s business could it possibly be? And if you are making her world a teensy bit brighter with a few kisses, go to it.

3

Keep up the smooches and watch out for that sourpuss cow-orker. It sounds like you really and truly care about this person.

4

I used to have a job as a direct care aide to handicapped people, sounds like the same kind of population you work with. And I was pretty careful about appropriate affection just like everyone else. But here, I agree, if all those people are OK with it anyone who isn’t should just totally fuck off.

5

Some people are heartless anal-retentive pricks. Good for you, Tris, you are handling this just the right way. Screw these jerks.

I, too used to work with the mentally retarded, and some of the regulations and rules did not take into account that we were looking after human beings with feelings.

For instance, they had an “age appropriate” policy, which at one time was taken to absurd extremes. The policy dictated that adult clients were to be treated “age appropriate”—meaning their chronological age, not their mental or emotional age.

This policy meant that incontinent clients who usually would be required to wear adult briefs (Depends, etc.) were not allowed to—because 40 year old adults “shouldn’t” wear diapers, right? So these incontinent clients were not allowed to wear them, no matter how desperately they actually needed them. As a result, staff had to constantly get them up out of bed every few hours and clean them and their beds of “accidents.” (Thankfully, this particular policy was discontinued before my time, but while it was policy, apparently staff was kept hopping 24 hours a day cleaning up dirty clients, dirty bedding and dirty clothes, because of course they couldn’t always predict when one of these clients would need to go to the bathroom.) This rule was all made in the name of “age appropriateness” by pencil-necked geeks who never would have to clean a sheet or change poopy clothes, so what did they care? Apparently it looked good on paper.

Another manifestation of this “rule” was not allowing adults to have doll collection. A 30-something client loved the many dolls her parents gave her when they came to visit. She treasured those dolls. But when it was decided that “30 year olds shouldn’t have dolls,” her doll collection (that her parents paid for) was removed, to who knows where. Just gone.

And I saw an example of it when a coworker was balled out for allowing a client to wear clown make-up and a paper crown that was put on him in the day program he attended. He had “won” some sort of honor which meant that he got to wear the paper crown, and dammit, he wanted to wear it all the way home in the car. Same goes for the makeup (I guess they had a clown visiting that day in the program and everyone got makeup). He was wearing that, and was really pleased about it. But the problem was, a supervisor saw him in the car wearing his crown and his make-up, and so balled out the staff member for allowing a 40-year-old man to be seen that way in public. No matter that it would have broken his heart to have removed the stuff. That mattered not at all.

And I could go on and on. I’ve seen clients who thrived on physical contact (hugs) and who literally needed them being deprived of them because it was against the “rules.” The difference in these clients is quite dramatic after a while, because staff is not “allowed” to give them that kind of one-on-one attention. The client suffers. But does that matter? No, because rules are rules.

6

Nobody else is weirded-out by the OP?

7

Brutus: No, because I’ve seen situations similar to his. When you are working in the field he is working in, you’ll see that there’s nothing “weird” at all about the situation he’s describing.

Some people I know (including family members) were “weirded out” by the basic duties of my job. The mere concept of taking care of developmentally disabled (mentally retarded) was just too uncomfortable a concept for them, and they repeatedly said that they could never do such a job themselves. But just because they thought it was weird, it didn’t mean it was. That was their problem, not mine, and not the job’s.

8

I was weirded out by the first few paragraphs but when I read the whole thing I gave my honest reaction. Like yosemitebabe I’ve seen similar things.

And not to hijack the thread, I’ve also seen “age appropriateness” taken way too far. Fortunately we had a rule that anything their parents gave them they could keep.

9

Brutus,

I do understand how you could be “wielded out” by the entire concept.

But think about this. Suppose you kissed your infant daughter. And suppose she grew to love you, and over years, to look forward to the kisses she got when she saw you. And suppose that something happened, and your daughter got stuck mentally at about three years of age, and kept on running up to you and giving you big wet kisses on your lips, just like she did when she was a baby.

OK, now are you going to stop her?

I have known this little girl since she first weighed eight pounds. She weighed eight pounds for three years. Now she is in her twenties. She walks! It’s a fucking miracle! She was supposed to be dead within a day of being born. And within a week, and within a month, and within . . . well, you get the idea.

I have known her family throughout the whole time. I watched as they were counseled to accept her death. I sat in the emergency room with them. Lots of times.

She isn’t my daughter. But she is as dear to me as my own daughter is. And she expects that kiss. And if they fire me, (which they won’t) I will have her mother fill out a visitor authorization, and I will come back by as a visitor and kiss her anyway.

Fortunately, it is fairly obvious to most of the folks there that my relationships with clients are benign, if unusual. Since there are no cases where I kiss anyone who doesn’t want a kiss, and even a few where I manage not to give kisses which might be wanted, most of the folks who run the place have figured out that I am not a danger to anyone.

But there have been those five people. Now, if they really thought I was committing some sort of sexual abuse, or even likely to commit such an offense, there are very specific procedures for reporting it. And those procedures are required for even a suspicion, not just for proof. But none these five people have ever made such an accusation. They just don’t think it is “appropriate” because she “isn’t a baby” anymore, or because it “isn’t professional.”

Well, it isn’t professional. It’s personal.

Tris

10

Yeah, but then I’m not really used to working with the mentally disabled. When I was in the Cub Scouts one of the guys in our Den was mentally slow and he loved to hug everybody. It was weird at first but I got used to it. He was a nice kid and all you had to say was “Ok, that’s enough” and he’d stop hugging you. That wouldn’t stop him from trying to hug you later though.
Marc

11

Well I was, but only cos Tris mentioned he’s got a beard.

Beards ::shudder:: - sinister facial hair of evil.

12

I suppose I am just not used to people being so ‘comfortable’ (for lack of a better work) when working with mentally disabled people. I certainly didn’t mean it as a dig towards Trisk.

In highschool, we had to do a year of community service to graduate. I did one semester at a retirement home (smelled terrible, most of the people there looked like they were waiting for death. Worst part is, the director confided in us that most of them could have lived with their children.)

I did my second semester at a local HS that had a ‘special ed’ class. I can authoritively say that I could never work with them on a more permanent basis; Once per week was my limit. Flaw on my part, not theirs. Kudos and thank God for the people that can and do.

13

Brutus: I find that repeated exposure does make that discomfort go away. I remember when I first was hired on at the job with the mentally retarded—I felt like freaking out on a regular basis. I was very uncomfortable for a while. But that feeling faded over time. I’m glad I stuck it out because I got to know some really sweet and wonderful people.

Not that I’m saying that you should force yourself to work more with the mentally retarded. I’m just saying that if you did find yourself in a situation where you had to, you’d find that you’d probably become more comfortable with it over time.

14

That girl needs those kisses and it’s wonderful that she gets them. Love is a powerful medicine. Good for you, Tris

15

  • That girl needs those kisses and it’s wonderful that she gets them. Love is a powerful medicine. Good for you, Tris.*

    It’s not enough to second this. Can you hundred it?

16

I would like to add that if it wasn’t for my familiarlity with your postings on this board, that I would have deep reservations about approving displays of physical intimacy between a male social worker and a mentally handicapped young adult female client. I take you at your word Tris, but then I have no responsibility towards your client. Rather than telling your co-worker to fuck off, you might assist her to understand your unreproachable motives/feelings.

17

grienspace

I understand the reasons behind your feeling.

I even feel it is important to encourage development of appropriate interpersonal skills in my clients, including how to greet strangers, and occasional acquaintances. I often explain to some of my clients that: “I need this much space when I talk with someone.” I have clients who are too enthusiastic about greeting casual friends, and I act much differently toward them than I do to this one particular client. I do give out hugs, and kisses on the cheek, pretty much on request. But I usually insist on a one kiss a day limit, and I am careful not to encourage nascent feelings of sexual attraction, which inevitably occur. I spend a lot of time in conversations with clients that are set exchanges intended to practice skills that those particular clients need.

Now, the fact is that my clients generally see thirty people a day that they have close associations with. Those people change on a fairly constant basis, and anything over a year is considered long term staff. Very few have been there more than five years. I have been in the same facility for twenty three years. My relationships are different. My clients have come to rely on the fact that everyone comes and goes, except me, and about three other people. In a few cases, the families are less familiar to them than I am. They love me. I know it. I don’t expect the same decorum from them that I teach them to display to others.

By the way, my little friend doesn’t kiss a lot of people. If she had generalized that exchange from me to everyone, I would have stopped long ago. She actively refuses kisses from people all the time. So, it isn’t a “set piece” exchange that I have taught her. It’s a special thing, between us. She does kiss a few other people, too. But only people she feels very close with, and certainly never strangers. Family, and two other care givers who, like me, have been through the earlier years of her extraordinary struggle through life.

I haven’t told anyone to fuck off, by the way. I came here to do that, and I know no one at the facility reads this board. (I get a big “ho hum” when I describe the board, from everyone that I have ever mentioned it to.) So, I get to blow off a little steam, with no chance of insulting anyone. But, if I thought for a minute that these five people had been actually concerned that I might do something harmful to any client, I would have to explain to them that they are required by law to report that suspicion immediately. That isn’t the case, though. They just don’t like it that the relationships I have are so different, and since they are unconventional, they complain about it, because “it doesn’t look right.”

I got the same reaction when I used jabs, uppercuts, and right crosses as exercises with one client to elicit the physical tasks of reaching across midline, and away from midline, in furtherance of goals to increase his range of motion. Instead of physically moving his arms, against his resistance, I stand in various places and invite him to punch me in the nose. He tries very hard, and is jubilant when he touches my nose. He holds up his clenched fist first thing each day, when he sees me. It’s fun, and it is far more successful than the passive exercise. He has never once hit me, beyond a very gentle touch. The level of control is astounding, considering his total physical condition. But it “Doesn’t look right.” The Physical Therapy department loved it, though.

By the way, I am not a social worker. I am an entry level care giver. Professional butt wiper. I have been several steps up the ladder, and did not find it to my liking. I am very good at what I do, and I love it. Fortunately, enough of the folks up the ladder, and especially enough of the families appreciate what I do, that even the most hidebound of the “appropriate decorum” folks have learned to live with me. Some have even learned to appreciate what I am doing.

Tris

18

I have a cousin who’s now in her 60s who is, as my 102-year-old grandmother likes to say, “afflicted.” Bobbi Helen is the sweetest person in the whole world. She’s about 10 years old mentally and emotionally. She was kept hidden at home, never taught to read, really had no life at all until her mother died about ten years ago – and then all of a sudden she discovered she could be an independent human being and live on her own and enjoy her life. And by golly, she has!

It’s been one of my greatest joys seeing her have a chance to come into her own. She’s extra loving and warm and caring, and probably not always appropriately so. But who cares? It makes her happy, and she also gives happiness to so many other people. These days, she spends her days running around helping one person after another – lives in an apartment right next door to the assisted living center my grandmother is in, and helps with all their social activities, takes a whole collection of old ladies for walks every day, etc. She gets to feel useful and needed. It took her to age 55 to discover that because she never had a chance prior to that point, she was just her mother’s pale shadow. If she were growing up today, she probably could have gotten a high school diploma, and certainly would have been able to grow beyond the artificially stunted level she was kept at. She’s even learned to read in recent years, thanks to the good folks at a church she belongs to. It’s just been wonderful to see her change and grow. But she’s still the extra-sweet person she’s always been; it’s always a pleasure to see her!

Anyone who has the guts and courage and extra-large dose of love who’s able to work with the developmentally disabled is extra-good in my book. Tell your coworker to go away and worry about something worth worrying about!

19

You guys who do this kind of work are a wonderful part of our species.

[raises glass]

To you! And all like you. May the entire world be so kind.