Speech therapy and the need to build connections

In the often challenging field of speech pathology, certain cases stand out for their profound impact on both the therapist and the patient. Bernard’s story is a prime example of this. His journey of rehabilitation not only emphasizes the resilience of the human spirit but also serves as a significant lesson in the art of adaptability, continuous learning, and the essence of connection within speech therapy.
During the autumn of 1985, in my role as a speech therapist at a Pennsylvania rehabilitation center, I met Bernard, a man in his mid-70s. He had recently experienced a severe global stroke, affecting his mobility and severely limiting his speech, comprehension, and other communication abilities. 
 

From our initial interaction, Bernard’s acute awareness of his challenging situation was evident, despite his communication difficulties. Efforts to foster speech, writing, and gestures only intensified his frustration. Facing the severe implications of global aphasia with Bernard was an unprecedented challenge in my career. His near-complete disconnection from expression, mirrored by his palpable frustration, underscored his awareness and struggle. It was akin to knowing how to drive but being alone stranded in a car devoid of steering and brakes.

A Turn of Tide: Discovering Bernard’s Past

Realizing the need to connect with Bernard on a deeper level, I embarked on uncovering more about his past. My research led me to a newspaper article about his riding stable, a mere stone’s throw from our facility. This discovery and subsequent discussions about the article, accompanied by photographs, formed our initial, modest bridge to communication. The absence of the internet’s convenience during this period made this discovery all the more significant.

The Breakthrough: The Commodore 64 and a Touch Pad

Considering Bernard’s communication barriers, the path ahead seemed daunting. At that time, the influx of technology into therapy was still in its early stages. Nonetheless, the emergence of home computers in the market provided a glimmer of hope. Leveraging my prior experience as a programmer and my familiarity with computers, I invested in a Commodore 64 computer, a speech synthesizer, and a 15×15 touchpad. I utilized this setup to create a communication aid for Bernard, programming the touchpad to verbalize words when corresponding pictures, like “Drink,” “Help,” and “Bathroom,” were pressed. This innovative approach marked a significant advancement in our therapy sessions.

During our trials with this novel device, Bernard’s response was encouraging. He seemed fascinated by the concept of initiating spoken words through his touch by simply touching a picture.

Our last session together is a memory etched in my mind. Bernard exhibited consistent effort, a smile, and a sense of tranquility. Heartbreakingly, he passed away in his sleep following that session.

Although Bernard’s journey ended, the insights and lessons learned from our time together were invaluable. He came to realize that the therapy was not just a clinical process but a bridge to facilitate his communication needs. This realization was a significant milestone in our sessions.

Bernard’s case profoundly illustrates the importance of flexibility, innovation, and relentless pursuit in developing individualized communication bridges with each patient. His story is a poignant reminder that the realm of rehabilitation is not just grounded in scientific methodology but is influenced by the art and significance of human connection. This balance between scientific approach and empathetic connection is at the heart of effective speech therapy, as demonstrated by my experience with Bernard.