How Not to Talk About It
I started trying to write this post on Monday night but I couldn't wrap my head around it. I think it must be tough for actual professional writers to know they have a good idea but be completely unable to make something good out of it. Then again, maybe actual professional writers don't have that problem. I wrote last week that 11 months after being diagnosed, I'm still not sure how to talk to people about my Tourette's. It's awkward, it's hard to randomly bring it up or to shoehorn it into a conversation, and I'm not sure how necessary it really is for other people to know about it. I have, however, had a few thoughts on how NOT to talk to a person with Tourette's about their Tourette's.
I've had a few interactions with people over the course of my life with regards to tics in public. Mostly it's been weird looks (did that guy just wink at me? did he just give me the FINGER? i wonder why he's raising his eyebrows at me?) but a few people have just out and out asked me what the eff is going on. There are good and bad ways to do this. One of the most embarrassing interactions I've had with regards to my Tourette's (I qualify this as "with regards to my Tourette's" because I am frequently embarrassed by my non-TS related behavior) was with a professor in college. I had her for American Lit Since the Civil War (I was an English major and college was expensive, but it's totally cool because I write a blog now) and one day she asked me to stick around for a minute after class. She asked me why I felt the need to make funny faces the whole time during class, telling me that she felt it was really disrespectful toward her. I was, of course, mortified. I actually really loved her class and thought she was a great teacher, so this one was pretty hard to swallow. I vaguely remember mumbling some sort of apology and telling her I'd stop, which of course was a ludicrous feat to attempt. I was still, and would be for many years after, of a mindset that my tics were some sort of personal weakness and if that I was just better or stronger, I would get to be like everyone else. Anyway, she never brought it up again and I think I got a B in the class after turning in a pretty baller paper on John dos Passos, Gertrude Stein, and the emergence of experimental form in American literature. The Tourette's-related takeaway here is that if you want to talk to a TS patient about tics, don't make it a conversation about how our tics affect you. I'm not doing this for fun or to annoy you, I promise.
In a hospital delivery room with a laboring mom-to-be, a doctor, and a dad-to-be, the prospective father actually manages to be the fourth most important person in the room. So it was when my wife was in labor with our son last August. I was excited as all get out, but also tired and anxious. My tics were pretty wild that day. I was making bird-chirp noises with my lips while the doctor was in the room checking on my wife's/the baby's progress (he ended up being a nearly 11 lb. c-section) that the doctor said, "Did anyone else hear that?" My wife and I had no clue what he was talking about, until he asked again a few minutes later, adding, "It sounds like a bird chirping" while he looked right at me almost accusingly. So another TS takeaway here is that if you see/hear someone ticcing, some variation on "The hell are you doing?", is probably not the way to go. A better approach might be a simple "Are you okay?", at which point I'd either say "Yes, thanks," or "Yes, I have Tourette's but I'm okay, and thank you for being kind enough to check on me!" Also just ignoring it is a 100% acceptable response. I LIVE for not talking to strangers. Any time I manage to avoid a potentially awkward interaction with someone I don't know gives me a strange sense of achievement.
I guess the basic rule here is be kind, and that extends to anyone you see who may or may not suffer from a neurological condition or other disorder or disability. What may be a passing interaction to you can be something a former student still vividly remembers 17 years later.
I've had a few interactions with people over the course of my life with regards to tics in public. Mostly it's been weird looks (did that guy just wink at me? did he just give me the FINGER? i wonder why he's raising his eyebrows at me?) but a few people have just out and out asked me what the eff is going on. There are good and bad ways to do this. One of the most embarrassing interactions I've had with regards to my Tourette's (I qualify this as "with regards to my Tourette's" because I am frequently embarrassed by my non-TS related behavior) was with a professor in college. I had her for American Lit Since the Civil War (I was an English major and college was expensive, but it's totally cool because I write a blog now) and one day she asked me to stick around for a minute after class. She asked me why I felt the need to make funny faces the whole time during class, telling me that she felt it was really disrespectful toward her. I was, of course, mortified. I actually really loved her class and thought she was a great teacher, so this one was pretty hard to swallow. I vaguely remember mumbling some sort of apology and telling her I'd stop, which of course was a ludicrous feat to attempt. I was still, and would be for many years after, of a mindset that my tics were some sort of personal weakness and if that I was just better or stronger, I would get to be like everyone else. Anyway, she never brought it up again and I think I got a B in the class after turning in a pretty baller paper on John dos Passos, Gertrude Stein, and the emergence of experimental form in American literature. The Tourette's-related takeaway here is that if you want to talk to a TS patient about tics, don't make it a conversation about how our tics affect you. I'm not doing this for fun or to annoy you, I promise.
In a hospital delivery room with a laboring mom-to-be, a doctor, and a dad-to-be, the prospective father actually manages to be the fourth most important person in the room. So it was when my wife was in labor with our son last August. I was excited as all get out, but also tired and anxious. My tics were pretty wild that day. I was making bird-chirp noises with my lips while the doctor was in the room checking on my wife's/the baby's progress (he ended up being a nearly 11 lb. c-section) that the doctor said, "Did anyone else hear that?" My wife and I had no clue what he was talking about, until he asked again a few minutes later, adding, "It sounds like a bird chirping" while he looked right at me almost accusingly. So another TS takeaway here is that if you see/hear someone ticcing, some variation on "The hell are you doing?", is probably not the way to go. A better approach might be a simple "Are you okay?", at which point I'd either say "Yes, thanks," or "Yes, I have Tourette's but I'm okay, and thank you for being kind enough to check on me!" Also just ignoring it is a 100% acceptable response. I LIVE for not talking to strangers. Any time I manage to avoid a potentially awkward interaction with someone I don't know gives me a strange sense of achievement.
I guess the basic rule here is be kind, and that extends to anyone you see who may or may not suffer from a neurological condition or other disorder or disability. What may be a passing interaction to you can be something a former student still vividly remembers 17 years later.
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