"Touch - It's a Good Thing" by Cathy Grant

Touch: It’s a Good Thing

By

Cathy Grant

Without touch you can die.

I may not have died physically in the past, but my emotions and my soul were on the critical list several times. I feel that many people still have a problem touching  individuals who are disabled. The reasons for these problems are many. Part of it might be ignorance, but mostly I think it is fear, fear that they may hurt me in some way, fear that my disability is somehow contagious, fear that they may get into trouble with me or someone else it they “invade my personal space”. These fears are often exasperated by my electric wheelchair.  I wish people (this included, in the past staff people) could get over this, because it was contact with others that finally helped me to start healing.

The reason why touch is so important is because it lets the disabled person know that they are real. This might sound a bit strange but let me explain with an example from my own life. 

I am a middle aged woman with cerebal palsey. I would be the first one to admit that I am sensitive about parts of my body, and that if I move or am moved too quickly in the wrong way, it hurts and I let people know it. However, this does not mean that I am made out of glass! A gentle squeeze on the shoulder, back or hand is not going to break bones. If you are unsure about whether or not some form of touch is welcome or not, just ask! I or whomever you are supporting will generally let you know. 

When I am talking about hugs and touch in general, it is still very important to respect your own boundaries and those of the person you are supporting. A hug given under duress is not a good hug.

When I was very young, I was very upset one night and my dad picked me up walked me through the house. As well as walking, he started to dance with me in the living room, with me in his arms. I remember this as if this happened only yesterday. In the world today, there have been studies whereby children who get touched are happier and healthier as they get older.

When I and my twin bother were born, we were both in incubators for around 52 days. The incubators at that time did not allow for much touch by medical staff let alone parents. I personally feel that this had long term negative affects on me physically and emotionally.  Making it more difficult to relate to  people around me and increasing my feelings of isolation. 

I do know how I survived my childhood and my teen years with very little touch from the people around me. I did this by faith and determination that my needs would eventually be met. My needs finally started getting met just over a year ago. At this time I started getting honest and more open with my staff, my friends and most importantly myself. I try to stay honest even when things start to get rough. It has not been easy. I still have my bad days. Old tapes are played back, and I’ve ended up in screaming matches with my staff or friends. However, in the end, the air has been cleared, and their hugs have let my body know that everything is alright. 

In my past, I had lots of hug poster-poem sayings all through my house. But people never seemed to get the hint! 

A really good example of what I’m talking about happened about a year and a half ago. I was talking to a new staff person who had had a lot of experience in the field. I was telling him about my life, an old story that I seemed to tell all of my staff, when he suddenly came over and gave me a big hug. At first I was floored that someone was actually perceptive enough to see what I really needed. Then, I felt as if he was truly there with me at that time in that place. I also felt emotionally safe for the first time in a long time. As soon as that happened all the anger and frustration that I have been holding onto for years came up and out. I cried and cried, and all that this new staff did was hold on to me in silence. When the initial onrush had settled down he quietly listened to me. He couldn’t help me with the problems that I had, but by just being present and letting me know by his physical actions that I was in that space helped me heal.