What do counsellor's/therapists wear?

Hello chums, chaps,dudes, blokes, imaginary friends, not so imaginary ones and my dear readers. Welcome to yet another Claire wiffle waffle moment. It is just one of those days where random thoughts are being pondered and not a lot of sense is being made.
Yesterday I went to the local cancer support centre to see if I can do my volunteer counselling hours there for my counselling diploma. I wasn't feeling that nervous till it was time to go and then slight days of chunder feelings swooshed over me, but I got a grip of it and off I went.
The centre is a lovely place, as soon as you walk in it has such a nice vibe and it is run by lovely people.That is what I decided in the first few minutes anyways. It was an informal interview over a cup of coffee, were I was asked what models of counselling I would use, confidentiality issues, number of sessions, time available and all that fun stuff. I was also very happy to hear that they pay for my counselling supervision hours, which is great news for me! I didn't expect that at all. Expenses for travelling were offered also, but I shall be walking so wont need that. Then I got showed around the place, most importantly for me was seeing the listening room (counselling room).I got rather excited after having a look round and they seem happy to have me on-board with them. Just need to finish that college work stuff and get my references from college tutors, then away we go!

What does one wear?

When I left, I was left with one question buzzing around my noggin, what does one wear? As I have been a wretched student for some time now, my wardrobe accurately depicts this. So I have to have a think on what is suitable to wear for counselling?  I think the question in itself is interesting, as I myself have perceptions on what counsellors wear already, mainly because of my college tutors and classmates.

So as I was pondering, I did above doodle and twittered this question:

When you picture a counsellor/therapist, what did you picture them wearing? Anything in particular? Birthday suit is not a accepted answer .

Replies

@crpitt hrmmm I'll bite =D Brunette in form fitting suit, hair rolled up in a bun, glasses, with an innocent, but naughty look (via xight)
@crpitt I picture a female and wearing a semi professional skirt suit. Is that wrong? :) (via Cyran)
@crpitt that hot librarian look is good. Sorta demure but not. And not too much black (via yogachicky)
@crpitt I think what the counsellor should wear depends on who his or her clients are. Who are you going to be working with? (via cleiomao)
@crpitt Not sure how it is in the UK, but here, there are lots of muted, understated looks in the therapy field. (via Miragi)
@crpitt What we'd call "business casual" over here. No suits, but not too dress-down. (via Aerten)
@crpitt wear what u feel comfy in non restricting non showing of the breasts(important for female counsellors) nothing that distracts work (via Tao_of_Pooh)

Do counsellors that are paid versus counsellors that are volunteers wear different clothes? Does the type of client dictate what you 'should' wear? Does it matter to you?

Other stuff:

Mumborg is not behaving at all, yesterday she dislocated her hip/leg again! Just moving in her hospital bed. It is horrendously painful for her, I only know that because when she actually mentions something is painful, that means it is really painful. So she was nil by mouth most of the day, getting x-rayed and stuff, but they couldn't fit her into surgery till this morning.Which is not good for the mumborg, especially with the state of that leg already.

A hip dislocation is a true orthopaedic emergency in that the incidence of subsequent avascular necrosis of the femoral head is a time-dependent phenomenon becoming increasingly common if relocation is delayed beyond 6 hours.

The major major operation is scheduled for a week on Friday, with removal of everything bone and metal wise from the knee and up, to the hip area. That area will then be left 'floppy' i.e. no bones, till it is 100% infection free. Then they will see about reconstructing the leg, if that fails then the leg will have to go.

I want to ride a bicycle and stuff

At the age of 27 I have found myself in the awkward position of not being able to ride a bike, or at least not effectively. How did this tragic event occur?
Firstly the mumborg being in hospital a lot was not conducive to bicycle learning time and the dad had to juggle the siblings, work, mumborg and I. Although I still think they could of squeezed this vital skill in somewhere.
Secondly I never actually got a new shiny bicycle of my own, I got a second hand bmx thing from somebody or other which was a dangerous beast and built for a boy type person.
So things were not looking good for me at all, especially when thirdly I have the coordination skills of somebody with two left feet dancing to the wrong rhythm, backwards and upside down (that bad).
What limited time I did spend riding bicycles was not fun at all, I was too scared to go fast and couldn't get the hang of those wretched gears and brakes. It is not a good idea to put your feet down instead of braking, this can lead to painful and embarrassing situations. Please keep the guffawing to a minimum as you read the rest of this tale.

Whilst on holiday in some lovely part of the country, Suffolk I think, the dad decides we should hire bicycles for the day. At the time I probably thought it was a great idea, it would soon become apparent that it was nothing of the sort.
Picture this, Dad in the lead whizzing round country roads followed by us lot (mum, sisters and me) when he signals that we should all stop. These were one way country roads and sometimes they proved to be rather dangerous. So immediately, instead of applying the brakes, I put my feet down and some how end up on the floor. That was bad enough, but did it end there? Oh no no no. Heather my younger sister had not even learnt to put her feet down to stop, let alone use the brakes. So guess what? She proceeded at speed to ride over my head and down the road until the dad stopped her.
Luckily enough I survived the incident with no injuries, apart from a few cuts. Oh! I nearly forgot to mention the big fuck off tread mark across my forehead! Did I get tea and sympathy? Did I heck as like. It became a family gem of a tale and I don't think I have ridden a bike since. Not that you could really blame me after that horror story.
So what now? Am I resigned to just these two feet of mine? Or do I attempt to mount a two wheeled steed once more? At least I could get a shiny new bike and a big pink helmet ( wow that sounds wrong). Do they do bicycle lessons for buffoons?

I suppose this falls under the category of 'Doing things that could make you look foolish, but you want to anyways' kind of thing.

Other News:

In a recent blog post I requested your votes to send me on a penguin filled adventure. Whilst it it something that I would love to do, it is becoming abundantly clear that I will not be winning. The company will get a shit load of publicity and I will get nothing, so sod that for a lark. I will just have to wait my turn to molest the penguins and build the worlds biggest snowman

Heather the runner over-er has once again started blogging, it will probably last about a week, but you never know. At the moment she needs advice on teapots, teacups and wedding invites, so let the hordes descend on her blog.

Mumborg update: It is always fun in mumborg world. I have lost count how long she has been in this time, month and a half I think. Time flies when you are having fun and all that.

Previously in mumborg world....

Doctor type person: We shall let any infection clear up before/if we operate again.
Mumborg: Okay

Present day in mumborg world:

Doctor type person: Oh it looks like you have an infection, we better operate!
Mumborg: Okay

My opinion on the matter? I have to wonder at the doctor type persons thinking on all things mumborg. I know she is a difficult case, but it is getting increasingly frustrating when they appear to have no clue on how to handle the mumborg. The mumborg manages to stay cheery no matter what, which further proves my theory that she is in fact a clone gone wrong.

Latest news: Awaiting swab results, if there is any infection they will operate.

Errant Eyebrows and Therapy

Click to biggify and see in all its glory

This post is approved by the BAEEA - British Association of Errant Eyebrow Abuse. If you know of anyone that has suffered from this shameful affliction or imposed it onto someone else (Grandma's I am looking at you) please don't hesitate to get in touch.

This has actually no meaning at all, just some random thoughts squished into a incoherent post. It all started when I was thinking the other day about what I lose the most frequently (marbles excluded) and came up with keys, phone and tweezers.
Why tweezers? Do I have hideously overgrown mono-brow like tendencies? Actually no I don't, but there was a time when I thought I did. My dad and my younger sister suffer severely from errant eyebrow syndrome, lots of pictures to prove it too. The older sister on the otherhand went the other way and suffered for years with 'Holy Plucked Off' syndrome. Somewhere in the midst of all that she convinced me that I had a monobrow, not sure how she did it. Well maybe by saying something like this:

You look like a boy with eyebrows like that!

Yes she was in fact being a bitch and I plucked my eyebrows to death. It literally took years for the buggers to grow back properly and every now and then an errant little bugger appears. It then sets off mono-brow nightmare flashes and I have to pluck it out immediately!

Do you have any errant eyebrow stories? Would a therapists errant eyebrows put you off? 

Other news: 

Have you checked out my penguin post and voted for me?

Mumborg is still in hospital, still losing blood, still has two legs for now and still waiting for the surgeons to make a ruddy decision. Other than that she is tickety boo.

College work progress is still going slow, but I will get there! Got a placement appointment for a week on Monday for the local cancer support centre, which I am really looking forward too.

Penguins, ponderings and picking me.

Since the moonwalk finished I have been pondering what to do next that may be adventurous and/or challenging. Even though it hurt like a bugger at some points in the walk(about 24 miles out of 26.2), I still finished it. The buzz that you get from actually finishing an event is unbelievably good and worth the pain. I have felt that since then I can achieve anything I set my mind too. Although I may have to accept at some point that I can not actually win the 100m gold medal at the next Olympics. Also there is that small problem of not swimming that well and needing stabilisers for my bicycle.

So what next? Penguins, penguins and more penguins (hopefully).
What? I know you are now worried that I am going to jump in the penguin enclosure of the local zoo and molest some poor flightless creatures! Don't be daft, I am trying to to travel to their homeland and molest them insitu! I spotted a competition today that seemed to good to pass up, it offers you the chance to get an expedition to Antarctica all expenses paid and you get to blog about it. I think I could just about manage the blogging part, you think?

My entry:

I wasn't born with an adventurous soul; it is something that has happened over time. Well some would call it adventurous and some would call it buffoonery, I prefer adventurous. Over the last few years I have developed a more pronounced wander lust and that has been reserved to armchair travelling via nature and travel documentaries up till now. After recently doing the MoonWalk, a 26.2 mile power walk for Breast Cancer charities, I felt invincible! Well my feet didn’t, but I had gotten bitten by a bug that filled my mind with the ‘I can do anything!’ spirit.  Okay anything may be stretching it as I am a rubbish swimmer and can hardly ride a bike, but you know the thought is there.

Why Antarctica?  Well bird watching and I have had a difficult journey; from the moment I could walk I was forced into the world of twitching by my father and granddad. Car journeys from one end of the country to the other end in record time, was not what I would call fun. Especially when the lesser potted whatnot had flown off, or had been eaten by somebody’s cat.

So the ultimate revenge would be to go to place that they both would have loved to have gone! Well that would be rather mean of me; I would probably have to take the dad. I can’t take the granddad, well except in spirit, so that still only takes up two places.

I will shamelessly use my dad’s vast array of birdlike knowledge to inform and amaze folks with Antarctic facts and figures. Along with photographs, writings and my speciality of doodles! Also I have been blogging for a fair while now and can ramble with the best of folks

Click this for FREE PENGUINS (or to vote for me)

Voting does require registering and I know how much you love that.... But please do it! It does not involve spam. I will bring you back a snowball or something.

I know the chance of me winning is slim to none, but it is somewhere that the dad has always wanted to go and it would be most excellent to go on an expedition with him. Even though this is something he would run off and do by himself. Just think how cool it would be to send me to a place like that! I could fall in the sea and freeze my pants off. The competition is stiff, as a lot of the fellow entries are professional writer types and/or people that have travelled extensively. I say boooooo to them, send a total novice instead, much more fun I thinks.