Today at work, my job seemed to be easy: to accompany a client to go swimming. A client who has OCD. I like going swimming. I know most people do. Everytime I go swimming, it always gives me a feeeling that I am alive.
Apparently it's not an easy one.
I knew that he doesn't know how to swim. But what I didn't know was worse. Let me put it this way: He doesn't even know how to stay afloat in water.
What makes it not easy for me was, he said instead of hiring a swimming instructor to teach him how to swim, he wants me to teach him. I spontaneously said,"Then I should get paid double for this." He looked at me, trying to look any sign of seriousness on it. I purposely gave him a smile. He laughed. Now he thought that I was just kidding. Darn it. I actually mean it when I said that.
At the swimming pool, he showed me off that he knows how to swim ... in a 4 foot deep pool. OK. That's a good start. So I asked him what exactly he wants me to teach him today. He said that he wants to swim in a 6-10 foot deep. I sighed.
It took us an hour just to get into the deep pool. He kept refusing to do it in the first place. How do you want to do something but then you refuse to do it? I shook my head a couple times. It feels that this guy brings the definition of oxymoron to the new level.
What made him finally do it was actually not a good picture. I had to push him off to the deep part when both of us were walking around the pool. I'm sorry, I said that in my heart. I'm just not a good teacher. I probably could get fired just by doing that.
The second attempt, I asked him nicely to do a cannonball. You know, jumping into the water and leting your body go down and finally back up. it's now him who shook his head. So I offered him something I don't usually do. I said I would hold his hand and let us do the cannonball together, so by that he knows that he will be safe. I know he's not buying it, but at least he's thinking.
To deal with a person with OCD, there's no way I could be able to force him to do something. Sitting at the pool and drinking my coke, hopefully the idea will sink in his head.
It did.
He finally agreed, with one condition, that I don't pull my hand off his. I agreed. Such an awkard deal, because it would make us look so gay. Hey, no offense to gay people. But anything would do at this time.
So we did it.
The reason I had him do the cannonball is to teach him aout how to stay afloat. He realizes that without no efforts whatsoever, the waters pushed his body up right after it sank.
Now it's the hardest part. To have him stay afloat without having to do a cannon ball. I told him it's basically the same way. He would be staying afloat just like what he experienced after doing the cannonball. The difference is instead of staying motionless inside the water, his body would float on the water by letting it drift around it.
I always remember how hard it was for me when I was a kid, trying to stay afloat in water. Took me a whole friggin' day and a huge headache out of my mom's head just to finally get it. I expect the worse today, since people with OCD have their own anxiety, obssession and compulsion. Duh! That's why it's called obsessive compulsive disorder.
The only thing I have to do is support him, one hand under his neck and one under his buttocks. The purpose is to make his body relax, Then I asked him to put his arms out and form a T shape. I slowly let go of his buttocks then have him get used to that. The next thing I did was let go of his neck. I know it sounds easy, but eventually it is never easy, especially with him.
For the the next hour I tried to count how many times we had to do that simple task. It was 27. Until I quit counting.
Tired, I asked him nicely to feel absolutely relax. Do not be afraid. You will not get drowned. That's all I said to him. But still, he didn't get it.
To make the story short, he finally did it, as soon as the sun sets around 6 o'clock. At first he kept saying that he hasn't given up yet. I looked at his eyes. Tried to let my eyes tell his, that I am the one who has given up. It didn't work. My eyes are too tired to speak up.
What made him finally did it was right after I was being firm, asked him staccatoly -I just made up a new word-,"Can't. You. Just. Quit. Trying?" Then I felt with my hands that were under his neck and buttocks, that his body muscles suddenly relaxed, as if he was asleep. He made it. He finally stayed afloat, after I let go of my hands. After a hundred times, or so I felt, since I had quit counting. At the end of the day, it really payed off.
What then stumbles in my mind is, he did it after he quit trying.