Mean Spirited Old Lady

Mrs. Sponge Bath is promptly becoming one of my least favorite residents. This lady gets herself all worked up over the silliest things. She's decided that I am not competent enough to do my job, for some reason, and has taken to talking shit about me behind my back. She criticizes me to my coworkers, and to the other residents every chance she gets.

For example, today at dinner, I accidently gave her the wrong kind of tea bag, because the two kinds have similar wrappers. She bitched a fit about it. She complains because I dont put enough lotion on her feet, or the water is 'scalding' for her sponge bath. Today, I had my hair in two nice pigtail braids, and she commented to one of the coworkers: "Looks like Pocahantas is in the building." After a few minutes silence, she added "No, she's too fat to be Pocahantas."

Now, I am a heavy girl. However, it's simply not polite to say something like that to someone. She just wants attention. I think she has some sort of neural problem.

Just to piss her off, I'm going to wear my hair in braids more often. The other residents love the look on me, and I usually get tons of compliments.

Desensitization

The first few times I had to do the gross things of this job, such as wiping up poo, I was naturally a little bit grossed out. I quickly got over it, and continued on.

Now, I find that I have been desensitized to the icky aspects of this job. Wiping up poo is now quite normal, and no longer a big deal. Cleaning up catheters and colostomies is no longer a big deal. It's all part of the day to day routine.

Sadly, I've also found myself becoming a bit more distant and desensitized to the residents themselves. For example, I know that Dick and his wife Iris are a difficult couple. Dick has Alzheimers and will tell you the same stories over and over and over again. I've heard them already. I blow them off now, instead of at least acting intersting. I bet these old folks feel patronized.

I have become desensitized to all the fucked up office politics and gossip as well. I stay out of it. Many times, the private conversations of my coworkers are less than professional. Yes, the coworkers are quite professional with the residents, and do their jobs well. But outside of the interactions with the residents, its quite a different story. I'm sick of all the petty crap, so I ignore it.

It really is amazing how quickly us humans will adapt to a stressful environment.

One small step for man....

One giant leap for Miss Birdie. Birdie has recently returned home after a stay at the hospital. She has been bedridden for a while, and for a time, when she was taken to the hospital, the doctors were predicting that she wouldn't make it. Now, she's home and she's going strong.

Birdie returned to us in a wheelchair, and is somewhat disoriented. Many of these old folks can be very routined; their routine gives them a sense of comfort. It helps them to know that all of the tasks that need to be done have been done, and nothing important has been forgotten. With the disruption to her routine, she's become a bit disorganized and confused, but it's nothing terribly major. She'll settle into her routine soon.

Birdie is quickly becoming one of my favorite residents. She likes hugs, always has a smile no matter how confused she is, and always very happy to see you. Simply put, she is sweeter than pie.

Today, instead of getting her into her wheelchair, I reached for her walker, because it was closer. I'm not used to seeing her in a wheelchair, and forgot about it because it was tucked away into the closet. After being bedridden and wheelchair bound, she got up and walked. She was so delighted to be walking that she did a lap through the halls of the building before dinner. She also walked back to her room after supper.

Birdie recently turned 100.

A light-spirited post

I've noticed my posts have become excessively rant-like lately, so I've decided to have a nice happy post. That, and the computer ate my last ranting post, so I think it's a sign from the computer gods. Anyway, here are my very favorite links in the whole wide world. In no particular order.

Newgrounds.com Neat little site for amateur cartoons, games, and the like.
b0g.org my favorite place for disguting pictures, cheap pr0n, etc.
Long Hair Community A message board with styling, product tips, and hair care information for long-haired ladies and gentlemen.
Harry Potter LexiconAll things Harry Potter. Yes, I admit it,I'm an adult Harry Potter fan.
b3ta.com B3ta rocks. Just go there, they rule the universe.
Kooksites.com Kooksites, formerly WebWasteland, previously known as WeirdLinks. A bunch of bizzare links and a blog by the webs one and only Link Digger.
Things that make you go aahhLovely pictures of cute widdle aminals.
Neatorama Along the lines of Kooksites, more off-the-wall links.

Nasty Ass

WARNING: This post is not for the weak of stomach. If you are easily disgusted, do not read this.

I cant get this mental image out of my head. It is without a doubt the nastiest thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

Now, in this job, there are more than a few things the average person would find squeamish. Wiping up asses, cleaning up poo and urine, doesnt bother me much. Medical things such as the lady with the masectomy; Mr. Colostomy's colostomy; a few people with disgusting nail and skin infections on their feet; one lady with swelled, weeping legs; the lady with the prolasped uterus; and of course, Grants nasty dingleberries; none of this bothers me. I can handle it from an objective, medical prospective. It actually just makes me more curious about the scientific workings of the body and the specifics of their ailment.

However, my most recent experience is simply the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life.

Irene is the aforementioned lady with the masectomy. She is rude, demanding, and a bit of a hypochondriac. While she's in the shower, I notice a bit of darkness around her anus. Thinking that she's got dried poo down there, I tell her to stand up so I can scrub her. Little black bits end up on my washcloth. "What the hell?" I think to myself.

After I get her out of the bath and cleaned up, I ask her to stand up so I can look at her bottom and figure out what the hell is going on down there. I soon discover this lady has multiple large blackhead pimples in neat little rows, extending around her anus. The biggest of them is about a centimeter in diameter. Most of them are between 1-3 millimeters, and there are at least three dozen of them. Some of them have 'popped' when I was scrubbing her bottom, leaving the black bits on the washcloth.

It took me about ten minutes to convince her that her condition was not life threatenening, and I would report it to my supervisors.

The mental image of those blackheads dotting that old lady's puckered anus will forever haunt my mind.

Naughty bits

Tonight, I got the unrivaled distinction of manhandling old men's naughty bits.

My first patient of the night was Mr. Colostomy. He was a little bit more distant and disoriented than normal, but it was nothing drastic. Usually, when I shower someone, I have them first sit on the shower chair, while I wash their hair and soap them up. I then have them stand up and hand them the washcloth so they can wash their naughty bits. After rinsing them off, they sit back down, I rinse them again and thats it. Mr. Colostomy has been a bit unsteady on his feet lately, and as a result likes to hold on to the grab bar in the shower with both hands, thus meaning that he doesn't want to wash his naughty bits, and therefore I get to do it. Woo hoo.

Later in the night, I went to visit Ruby, and she laid out a massive poo when I put her on the toilet. I'm just glad it was the toilet and not her diaper. She also needs both hands for balance, and thus I manhandle her naughty bits as well.

I haven't written anything about Rob, but here goes. This man has various medical issues, though I'm not sure of all the specifics, he tends to keep to himself. He is married, and his wife is just a little bit odd. Not nearly as odd as Mrs. Sponge Bath, but she's pretty crazy. She tends to get jealous when Rob chats with any of the residents or Us Girls. For gods sake, lady, the guy is in his seventies. He sure as hell isn't going to be cheating on you. Anyway, he recently had an IV line installed in his arm, due to his need to recieve antibiotics every day, for a while. He cannot get the line wet, and therefore cannot take a regular shower for a while. Because of this, he's developed a yeast infection in his groin area, speicifcally foldy-over bit where his leg creases into his hip, and is covered by his beer belly. In that fold, the yeast infection lives. It's also spread to include some cracked skin on his penis.

He's got cracked skin, cottage-cheese like yeast, odor, and pain. Tonight, I had to scrub the affection area very clean, make sure that it was very dry, then apply medicated baby powder. The scrubbing was painful for him, and I do feel bad about this, but it was necessary. So, I had to manhandle his manly yeast infected penis and testes. It was wonderful.

Last paitent of the evening was Grant. Grant has mild alzheimers, is very hard of hearing, and poos himself. He also prefers a bath to a shower, althought I'm going to try to get him in a proper shower soon. He had poo in his bottom, between his cheeks, and hanging off his testicles in little dingleberries. His hands shake and he has a hard time cleaning himself off, so I got to scrub his poopy naughty bits.

I fuckin hate mondays.

PS: Oh yeah. Happy Valentines day to me.

A change of pace

Today, I'm not feeling much like writing about my job. However, I do have a post planned to discuss the common misconceptions and perceptions that people have about nursing homes.

I've been very much enjoying the Olympics. I LOVE the Olympics, ever since I was a child, and I watched my first games. I like to root for any athlete from any "little" or underdeveloped country, as well as the host country. This year, I'm watching the Sherpa cross-country skiier from Nepal, the Mongolian team, the Licthenstien team, and Anne Abernathy, a 52-year old luger from the Virgin Islands.

Of course, I also root for the Americans, and I follow some of the big stars. Go Shaun White, Hooray for Chad Hedrick, Go Apolo Anton Ohno (by the way, I'm going to marry him, he just doesnt know it yet.).

Anyway, I'm planning a few good posts for later. In the meantime, enjoy the new Sesame street terror alert graphic located on the right sidebar. I thought it was cute.

A day at work

5:00 PM: Leave home. Have a ciggy on the way to work.

5:20: Arrive at work. Order my dinner from the cafeteria. Usually, the cafeteria food is crap. Tonight was no exception. I got chicken wings, baked potato, and baked beans.

5:40: Get my list of people who need baths. Check in with each resident, to find out what time they want their bath.

6:00: Clock in. Push a couple of people from the cafeteria into their rooms - technically, not my job, but I'm helping my coworkers.

6:10: First bath of the night. Resident is notoriously difficult, paranoid, and rude. She refuses her bath. I try to convince her, but she is persistent. I let it go.

6:15: Notify co-workers that resident has refused. Assist co-workers in Big Boy's room. Big Boy is a resident who weighs about 350, is partially paralyzed, and requires a mechanical lift to get him from his chair to bed, bed to wheelchair, etc. It takes two people to do things for him such as rolling him to dress him.

6:30: Second bath of the night. Resident is a kind-hearted, warm, and funny old lady. She is a pleasure to work with, never refuses her bath without a good reason, and never complains, even though she is in pain and quite forgetful. She has a very lovely, fluffy kittycat.

6:45: Finished with bath, dressing her, and putting lotion on legs. Return to office, to make a note that Resident may need to see a doctor because of swelling and pain in legs.

7:00: Head to next bath. This lady is the complete opposite - fussy, rude, demanding, and very stubborn. None of Us Girls like her. I smile, nod, and get her cleaned up, put lotion on her legs, and get her dressed.

7:25: Next bath. Upon entering the room, I find out Resident has been taken to the hospital with a bowel obstruction. I now have half an hour free to help out my coworkers.

7:30: Recieve call that resident has had a big poo in his pants. I enter the room, and clean the guy up. He is cranky, and doesnt like most of the girls, but he likes me well enough. I wipe up his ass, give him a new diaper, put him in his jammies, and set him down in front of the TV.

7:40: Put Ruby to bed. Ruby is discussed in a previous post, somewhere in the archives. She is a real sweetheart, and laughs freely. I got her undressed and sat her on the toilet. She had a huge poo, and it stunk. Sprayed air freshner. Got Ruby into jammies, called co-worker for her medications, let co-worker lift her up into bed.

8:00: Next bath. Resident is a kind-hearted, though simple-minded woman with Alzheimers. She is physically able-bodied, but she is extremely forgetful, and can get a bit frustrated. She always tries to tip me, which is against the rules. Besides, she doesnt have much money, I'm not going to take what little she does have.

8:25: Last bath of the evening. Resident is one of my favorites. She is downright cool. She smokes, and lets me smoke in her room. She is able-bodied, and I'm only there to make sure she doesnt fall, and to scrub her back and hair. After washing her back and hair, I sit down, have a smoke, and wait for her to finish. After she's showered, I assist her into her chair, help her dry her feet and hair, and she gives my chocolate.

9:00: Enter office. Finish paperwork. Clock out.

9:05: Share chocolate with co-workers. Sit around and BS with coworkers for a few minutes. Go home.

Death

Death is a reality in this line of work. Tonight, I got to see first hand, the pain of losing a loved one.

One of our residents had been fighting a losing battle with a brain tumor, for some time now. Tonight, with his family nearby, he closed his eyes and slipped off into a permanent sleep. Not a bad way to go, really. He had been declining for about a week and a half, and his daughter had spent a good deal of time with him, almost every night, for at least the past three months.

I wasn't very close to him, but the loss still affected me, because I got to see the grief of the family. There was an air of sorrow in the entire building, and, although this may sound a little kooky, I could feel a strange aura in the vicinity of the deceased's room. Us Girls were rather upset over it, and the boss-lady got called in to handle the situation.

Many people are scared of death, which is quite natural. I've never lost anyone close to me, so I really can't sympathize fully with the pain of loss. Death, to me, is another journey, one we all must take. I choose to believe there is something wonderful waiting for us after we leave this earth. Whether it is Heaven, Nirvana, Elysium, Reincarnation, or simply fading into the wind...

Someday, we all will find out. I can only hope that my death is gentle, as his was.