Angel At Work
Dear everyone,
Working at my job can be very sad sometimes. On the Skilled Nursing side, I often get the feeling that people are just sitting there, waiting impatiently for their lives to end.
One woman named Maryanne is the sweetest woman in the world. She raised six sons as a single parent, and also spent some time as a nun. When you meet her, you may think that she is a little slow-witted, because of her slow way of speaking, and the large smile she always has on her face. (Why is it so easy to assume that happy people aren't particularly smart?) But when you talk to her, you learn that she actually is EXTREMELY smart, or at least she was when she was younger! She used to work at Maryville, with kids with behavior disorders, and all of the big tough boys adored her. It is sad when Maryanne sits there and says to me, "I hate this place! I only want to be treated with a little bit of dignity!"
Another woman, who is 100, prays when she thinks nobody can hear her, "Please God, get me out of here, before my grandchildren see me this way!" Later, as I help her get into her bed, one minute she jokes that I should cut off her sore leg and throw it away, and the next minute she cries out in frustration, "Why doesn't He just kill me and be done with it!"
A woman who can barely speak any longer because of her advanced Alzheimers will sometimes blurt out random sentences. She loves when I push her around in her wheelchair, and reaches out for me when I come into the room. Yesterday when I went to greet her and hold her hand, the random sentence she blurted out was, "I don't think I'll live much longer."
A man who also has advanced Alzheimers longs for his wife, who lives near by and comes to visit him once or twice a day. Sometimes he thinks I am her, and says to me, "I've been waiting for you! I missed you! I don't want to watch TV, I just want to look at you!" When I tell him who I am, and say, "I think you're looking for your wife, huh," he nods sadly. (Although other times he calls me by my name, and says, "I like to see you!")
Another man, who is usually sharp-witted, has lost all of his motivation to do anything but sit in the corner and stare at the wall every day. When invited to do activities, he refuses. He just wants to sit in the corner and do nothing.
And yet another man, when his wife comes to visit, cries, "I've become a burden! I'm living too long, aren't I?"
I love to sit and talk with them, because when you talk to them they have so many stories to tell and so many things to say. But it is sad, because of the feeling that they are telling their life stories as if those life stories are over. Like, "I did all this, but now there is nothing left for me to do but sit here."
Another strange thing I have noticed about my work is that, both on the Skilled Nursing side and on the Independent Living side, it is almost 100% white people. Some have Italian or French or German accents, but not a single one of them is Black or Hispanic or anything else. (Actually, there is one Cantonese man on the Skilled side, and one Indian guy who I have never met.) I wonder why this is. I live in an area where there are especially a whole lot of Hispanic people, and many African American people also. So where do they go when they get older? Is it because they tend to bring their older family members to live with them instead?
Also, the place I work at is a pretty good facility. Although the Skilled Nursing side has some shortcomings, it is pretty clean and MOST of the staff are very nice people who try really hard to treat everyone well. But I've heard some awful things about other places! One woman who was at my Skilled Nursing place after a fall, said that the last time she fell down and had to go to a nursing home, she was sent to a different place where the care was much worst. She said that one night she woke up and saw one of the aides rifling through her roommate's drawers, taking jewelry. When she asked what the aide was doing, he told her, "Never mind, go back to sleep, its none of your business." She also saw that aide roughly treating the roommate, who was too ill to speak.
Well I am about to have a hypoglucemic fainting spell so I better go. (I can feel myself getting cold and shaky!)
Goodbye for now!
With love, from Angel
Working at my job can be very sad sometimes. On the Skilled Nursing side, I often get the feeling that people are just sitting there, waiting impatiently for their lives to end.
One woman named Maryanne is the sweetest woman in the world. She raised six sons as a single parent, and also spent some time as a nun. When you meet her, you may think that she is a little slow-witted, because of her slow way of speaking, and the large smile she always has on her face. (Why is it so easy to assume that happy people aren't particularly smart?) But when you talk to her, you learn that she actually is EXTREMELY smart, or at least she was when she was younger! She used to work at Maryville, with kids with behavior disorders, and all of the big tough boys adored her. It is sad when Maryanne sits there and says to me, "I hate this place! I only want to be treated with a little bit of dignity!"
Another woman, who is 100, prays when she thinks nobody can hear her, "Please God, get me out of here, before my grandchildren see me this way!" Later, as I help her get into her bed, one minute she jokes that I should cut off her sore leg and throw it away, and the next minute she cries out in frustration, "Why doesn't He just kill me and be done with it!"
A woman who can barely speak any longer because of her advanced Alzheimers will sometimes blurt out random sentences. She loves when I push her around in her wheelchair, and reaches out for me when I come into the room. Yesterday when I went to greet her and hold her hand, the random sentence she blurted out was, "I don't think I'll live much longer."
A man who also has advanced Alzheimers longs for his wife, who lives near by and comes to visit him once or twice a day. Sometimes he thinks I am her, and says to me, "I've been waiting for you! I missed you! I don't want to watch TV, I just want to look at you!" When I tell him who I am, and say, "I think you're looking for your wife, huh," he nods sadly. (Although other times he calls me by my name, and says, "I like to see you!")
Another man, who is usually sharp-witted, has lost all of his motivation to do anything but sit in the corner and stare at the wall every day. When invited to do activities, he refuses. He just wants to sit in the corner and do nothing.
And yet another man, when his wife comes to visit, cries, "I've become a burden! I'm living too long, aren't I?"
I love to sit and talk with them, because when you talk to them they have so many stories to tell and so many things to say. But it is sad, because of the feeling that they are telling their life stories as if those life stories are over. Like, "I did all this, but now there is nothing left for me to do but sit here."
Another strange thing I have noticed about my work is that, both on the Skilled Nursing side and on the Independent Living side, it is almost 100% white people. Some have Italian or French or German accents, but not a single one of them is Black or Hispanic or anything else. (Actually, there is one Cantonese man on the Skilled side, and one Indian guy who I have never met.) I wonder why this is. I live in an area where there are especially a whole lot of Hispanic people, and many African American people also. So where do they go when they get older? Is it because they tend to bring their older family members to live with them instead?
Also, the place I work at is a pretty good facility. Although the Skilled Nursing side has some shortcomings, it is pretty clean and MOST of the staff are very nice people who try really hard to treat everyone well. But I've heard some awful things about other places! One woman who was at my Skilled Nursing place after a fall, said that the last time she fell down and had to go to a nursing home, she was sent to a different place where the care was much worst. She said that one night she woke up and saw one of the aides rifling through her roommate's drawers, taking jewelry. When she asked what the aide was doing, he told her, "Never mind, go back to sleep, its none of your business." She also saw that aide roughly treating the roommate, who was too ill to speak.
Well I am about to have a hypoglucemic fainting spell so I better go. (I can feel myself getting cold and shaky!)
Goodbye for now!
With love, from Angel