Late night tales
Tony Sumner
What was the context/situation/challenge? I was co-facilitating a masterclass on digital story-telling. The masterclass took place over two days, and had about 15 delegates, some of whom were close colleagues and friends. The class used a range of activities and exercises, based around story prompts and discussion in small groups and pairs.
What were the particular characteristics of the situation that engaged you in an immersive way?
One of the story prompts that we used on the first day was to ask participants to spend 5 minutes writing a story about a scar. Each delegate in turn told his or her story, and recieved feedback from the group. I told my story, in turn, about a scar on my wrist. One of the delegates told a story about the scars from her mastectomy. She is a colleague and friend, but had never openly acknowledged her experience before. I was deeply moved by the veracity and trust of her story-telling. We worked through the rest of the day and I went to bed. At about 4 am I awoke, with another story of my own churning in my head and desperate to be committed to paper, which (after some fumbling for paper and pen) I did, before returning to sleep. Here are my scribbled notes:
My mother had recently had a mastectomy herself, and the shared experience of the stories told had prompted my own story about a different viewpoint of a similar event. After some quick edits, here is my story:
Knitting Tony Sumner
My Mum,
Knitting.
My Mum!
Sixty-two. Mammogram, shadow, biopsy, benign.
Lumpectomy, lymph nodes.
Radiation therapy, Tamoxifen.
Lymphodoema, bleeding, anaemia.
“They say they don’t do many hysterectomies these days, but it’s no use to me any more. I don’t need the bleeding at my age”
My Mum.
Sixty-five Mammogram
Seventy Mammogram
Seventy-three Mammogram, shadow, biopsy, malignant.
Brainscan, liver biopsy, bone scan, blood tests.
Mastectomy, doctor, counselling.
“Well, if it was a gangrenous leg, I’d want you to take that off!”
My Mum.
“I don’t want the breast, I want Mary”
My Dad.
Ten days, surgery, queue, wait.
Twelve hours, out, successful, perfect.
Unilateral, no reconstruction.
Benign, benign, malignant.
Aggressive, small, deep-seated.
Twenty-four hours, knitting.
My Mum.
Two days, one hundred miles, two hours, visiting.
Corridors, echoes, confusing signs, maternity ward (it’s the same bits…) side room.
My Mum, my Dad.
Hospital gown, quiet room, sunshine.
Drain, bag, blood.
Nervous smile, careful hug.
Unfamiliar shape.
My Mum?
Tests, clear, maybe chemo.
Pain?
“It’s okay, it’s a bit tender but then, I suppose it’s quite a scar – look”.
My Mum!
Knitting.
My Mum.
I had wanted to express the difference between the harsh, staccato, cold language of the medical context and the language used by my mother/father. I shared my story with the group as part of the story-circle then next morning, and then went on to record an audio version of the story and to add pictures to create the digital story 'Knitting' - which can be seen near the bottom of http://www.patientvoices.org.uk/pilgrim.htm
What forms of learning / personal development / change emerged from the situation?
I think that for me the learning was about being reminded how teaching and facilitating a learning
experience can actually be a trigger for one's own learning - and for the reassertion of one's own learned experiences.
What words/concepts/feelings would you use to describe the immersive experience?
Powerful, urgent, immediate, revelatory, enlightening, surprising, pleasing, challenging.
What principles or lessons can be drawn from this story?
I think that the key principles are of the power of learning as a shared experience for a group – the power and potential that come from being part of a learning community (of practice). Underpinning this is the need for trust and mutual respect that is necessary for any learning context to be a safe, effective, shared and nurturing experience. The support and input of a group of peers is, I feel, an essential part of an effective story-telling process.