To be totally honest, as I walked into the hospice I was rather nervous. Would the patients like me? How would they be feeling? Would they even be physically up to it? Would the patients just find us annoying students coming to patronise them? We were warned beforehand after all that some of the patients had other engagements like physio and they may be less than enthusiastic, but I couldn't allow that to dampen my spirits.
I felt very uncomfortable just laying out the tables- I never know what I'm supposed to do unless I've been given specific instructions and I was afrain people would get mad at me for standing there and not helping as I stood there confused. As the patients piled in, I panicked. I didn't realise there would be so many. How were we going to make a doll for each of them and run the workshop between us? The room was very crowded and noisy; by this point I was struggling, and yelped loudly when someone tapped me on the shoulder which was very embarrassing. When we were asked to introduce ourselves, I was overlooked- perhaps that was for the best?
When the patients started picking their stations, it was consolation that even they were a little apprehensive about approaching a table. We worked with Mary and Kim. Mary had more experience as a machine sewer, so we could spend more time just getting to know her. Kim, however, was more withdrawn and appeared to be getting very frustrated. She told us she used to cross stitch quite frequently, but began to feel like she couldn't do it anymore when she got it. I suppose it's even more annoying when you know you are/were capable of doing something and you're still finding it hard.
I threaded and knottted a needle for her and helped her pick a pattern. At this point I was twitching periodically from nerves, but Dylan did everything he could to keep me calm. I was unable to recognise when Kim was having difficulty, so Dylan would again assis by pointing out when I should and shouldn't step in. I drew onto the Binka/Aida for Kim in a brightlt colored pen; first we only did large, spaced out stitches. As she felt more comfortable we gradually progressed to stitches meeting eachother and decreasing in size. Then we picked a heart pattern and had a joke about the fact we both were having difficulties reading the grid and looking at the fabric- Kim because of her need for glasses and myself because of my VPD ^^;
Kim seemed really happy once she was making progress and would not stop until she was finished. I'm glad she went away with a sense of achievement and I'm glad they both found the look of determination on my face as I struggled to draw the patterns amusing. It was nerve-wracking, but worthwhile.
I felt very uncomfortable just laying out the tables- I never know what I'm supposed to do unless I've been given specific instructions and I was afrain people would get mad at me for standing there and not helping as I stood there confused. As the patients piled in, I panicked. I didn't realise there would be so many. How were we going to make a doll for each of them and run the workshop between us? The room was very crowded and noisy; by this point I was struggling, and yelped loudly when someone tapped me on the shoulder which was very embarrassing. When we were asked to introduce ourselves, I was overlooked- perhaps that was for the best?
When the patients started picking their stations, it was consolation that even they were a little apprehensive about approaching a table. We worked with Mary and Kim. Mary had more experience as a machine sewer, so we could spend more time just getting to know her. Kim, however, was more withdrawn and appeared to be getting very frustrated. She told us she used to cross stitch quite frequently, but began to feel like she couldn't do it anymore when she got it. I suppose it's even more annoying when you know you are/were capable of doing something and you're still finding it hard.
I threaded and knottted a needle for her and helped her pick a pattern. At this point I was twitching periodically from nerves, but Dylan did everything he could to keep me calm. I was unable to recognise when Kim was having difficulty, so Dylan would again assis by pointing out when I should and shouldn't step in. I drew onto the Binka/Aida for Kim in a brightlt colored pen; first we only did large, spaced out stitches. As she felt more comfortable we gradually progressed to stitches meeting eachother and decreasing in size. Then we picked a heart pattern and had a joke about the fact we both were having difficulties reading the grid and looking at the fabric- Kim because of her need for glasses and myself because of my VPD ^^;
Kim seemed really happy once she was making progress and would not stop until she was finished. I'm glad she went away with a sense of achievement and I'm glad they both found the look of determination on my face as I struggled to draw the patterns amusing. It was nerve-wracking, but worthwhile.
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