A Glimpse of my Weekend

I worked Saturday. I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day when I put myself on the schedule. I was up and out the door by 5:30. Working on Valentine's Day doesn't have to be a disaster, necessarily. The things that made it a disaster really could have happened any day of the week.

First off, for those who don't already know, I am a CNA -which means that I get to do all of the really dirty work that nurses used to do, with out anything like the pay. I work at a senior long term care center. This is where the elderly go when their families either can't care for them any more, or they require round the clock nursing care. Many of them have regressed to toddler states of mind (and body). Most days, it doesn't really bother me. What can get on your nerves is personalities.

There is one woman, I'll call her Jane, who can be a challenge. Not because she is unpredictable, but because she is so VERY predictable. When I got to work at 6:00 am, she was already up and dressed for the day. She's mostly blind and largely deaf. She barks. I don't mean that she thinks she's a dog; I mean that she issues short, crisp, repetetive demands. She's like that yappy dog the neighbors leave outside because they can't bear to have it inside.

If she's up, it must be time to eat. She has a predictable array of yips and yaps: "Take me to my table! Get me hot chocolate! Where's my bib? Where's my orange juice?" These are repeated at regular, short intervals. If a figure passes in her range of semi-vision, she'll cut loose with a barrage of barks. If you try to explain to her that meal time is not for an hour, the bibs aren't ready yet, the orange juice isn't out, she'll acknowledge what you say, settle down for a moment or two, and then repeat her demands. When the meal is over, she insists on being taken to her room and laid down.

In between meals, she has three activities: sleep (oh, blissful, quiet, speech-free sleep), going to the bathroom, and asking when the next meal is. I don't mind telling her how long it is to the next meal; I'm perfectly capable of saying "Not for two more hours, Jane; yes, I'll come get you. Anytime, Jane." It's the trips to the toilet that are wearing on patience and sanity.

Firstly, she rarely accomplishes much. Secondly, she's always certain that she has accomplished great, solid things (if you get my drift). Thirdly, if you answer her request for confirmation honestly, she calls you a liar and insists that, indeed, she has made a contribution worthy of note. This is a predictable course of events. It will happen at least twice in an 8 hour shift.

But when it happens at the same time that three other people have actual toilet needs, a family member is calling for a head to be put on the chopping block (not mine, you understand; just someone's), it's the end of shift, and my replacement isn't showing up 20 minutes into their shift, I get a little short.

"Yes, Jane, I've never seen one so big!" Again, she's mostly deaf. So in a small, echoing bathroom, I'm nearly shouting this; partly to be heard, and partly out of pique. It was not my shining moment.

On the lighter side: at about 11:30, a large vase of roses, a teddy bear, and a balloon bouquet was delivered for one of the aids, from his significant other. As another aid commented: "We have 15 women working here right now, and the only person getting flowers delivered on Valentine's Day is the gay guy!"

(so you don't think poorly of my Honey, we had celebrated with dinner and a movie the night before, because I'd be too tired to do anything after my shift at work, and I got my flowers that night -before I could tell him about the fellow at work!)