MARC YACHT
Published December 8, 2006
Give me a scalpel, and I’ll do just fine. I can suture a patient up alongside the best surgeon, but give me a hammer and I start to sweat, my heart rate increases and a sense of total fear and absolute inadequacy turns me to jelly.
I’m one of those people who cannot assemble one of those awful put-it-together toys. I end up with extra parts, or the wheels are on backward. I have been reduced to screaming and kicking, trying to assemble the simplest of models. Wagons are particularly scary, and I usually find a 7- or 8-year-old to take over. They have no problems assembling even the most complex playthings.
When asked by my Port Richey Rotary club to arrange a day
volunteering at West Pasco Habitat for Humanity, my initial reaction was to
consider transferring to another club. I noted the sweats and loss of color
causing my ghostlike appearance, not to mention the shakes. However, I made a
decision that I would arrange a workday at the
I am a new member of the West Pasco Habitat for Humanity board and joined because of my love for their mission but also my desire to overcome my phobia for touching screwdrivers and hammers. I thought I might even pick up a sander or a saw. This could result in a new me, a regular Tim Allen or Bob Villa. Today, I’ll hammer a nail in drywall; tomorrow maybe I’ll build a house.
As with most phobias, there is a prior experience that triggers the behavior. I have spent many hours trying to identify the cause of my fear. It may well go back to my early childhood when I vaguely remember taking apart my father’s expensive watch and then moving on to his camera. My intention, as I remember it at 6 years of age, was to make both possessions work better. According to my father, they were working just fine before my efforts and, unfortunately, would never work again.
Although, I have no recollection of how my father reacted to seeing pieces of a watch and camera scattered about, I have to admit I never took anything apart again - or for that matter tried to put it back together. It is possible that somewhere repressed in the memory of a 6-year-old is a hard brush or strapping that was the nature of discipline in those days. Then, of course, my mother would express her own displeasure, “How could you do such a thing?”
She continued to remind me of my destructive efforts well into my teen years. If, for example, I tried to fix my bicycle tire, she would say, “Remember what happened to your father’s watch!”
Nonetheless, I recently joined my fellow Port Richey
Rotarians and Ridgewood High School Interact students for a day at the Habitat
site. As I walked through the fence, I sensed old fears returning but was
determined to overcome those anxieties. About 16 of us received instructions
from
I put my hammer down and retreated to my camera bag and spent the next hour taking pictures. I was awed by the efforts to measure and cut drywall, the nailing of the drywall by the Interact students and members of the Rotary club. I can do this, I thought. Besides, how many pictures can you take of someone hammering a nail?
I put my camera down and lifted a hammer. I grabbed a handful of nails and placed them in an apron. I moved toward the enemy, a large section of drywall. Lines were drawn to guide nail placement. As I reached the wall, the sweat began - and the shakes. I can do this, I thought. I placed a nail against the wall and whacked it with a hammer. I hit it again and again, and even though it was the wrong type of nail - I had grabbed roofing nails - I accomplished driving the nail though the board into the pine frame.
One of my fellow Rotarians pointed me to the correct nails, and I continued and continued and continued. When I finished, I noted a secured drywall panel that would be a permanent part of the structure for the next 100 years. I can do this, I thought.
It was a great day for me, very special. I was no longer sweating or shaking and felt confident that I could advance to setting tile. I knew I would be back to that site. That was the general feeling among my fellow Rotarians and Interact students. We discussed our efforts while eating hamburgers provided by Habitat.
Marc Yacht is the director of the Pasco Health Department.
© 2006 • All Rights Reserved •
Contact the Times | Privacy
Policy | Standard of
Accuracy | Terms,
Conditions & Copyright