Playing boule… or boccia as they call it here
Stories about work with adults seem to be too few and far between these days.
Yet another three-week block of conductive sessions for my adult-stroke group has been and gone. It went by so quickly and without one single story appearing about them on my blog. It is not as if there is nothing to say, so much happens, every day when I am with them I learn something new.
This group is, and always has been my favourite of all the different work that I do and the blocks always seems to be over before it has really begun. This time our time was divided up by so many bank holidays but even so the whole group turned up just about every day.
This group has been in working with me for over ten years or should I say I started developing this group over ten years ago. Although there is now only one of the original members of the group still attending, the group has that feeling about it of being long established, with its traditions and a personality of its own. It has characteristics like an ever-open door for both new clients and visitors from different walks of life. Flexibility is also another feature that we really enjoy. The group has always been ready to spontaneously make time for a group member who wishes to discuss a personal matter, to change the planned programme for a spontaneous trip out to the café in a member’s new car with newly gained license, or to walk outside in the rare sunshine.
Last week we were having a cup of coffee and eating Brezen, bread twists with butter that I had brought as a belated birthday-celebration treat, when the conversation came round to the Bank-Holiday weekend trip to France made by one member of our group. He had been playing boule at the weekend and this reminded him of the holiday when he had spent much time watching the natives play this “national” sport on just about every street corner and in the public parks. The rest of the group were all agog. Many questions were asked.
“How do you play it?”
“Is it easy with hemiplegia to take part?”
“Are there clubs we can join around here?”
Our boccia-player duly answered their questions and announced that he had his boccia balls in the car still. He offered to fetch them but Évi and I went one better and offered to go outside with the group to the car park and play a couple of rounds!
Which of course we did, to the delight and enjoyment of us all despite the scorching sun! The ground was not perfect but it was good enough for a bunch of amateurs out for a bit of fun.
