It's been another weird weekend over at the hospital, y'all. As I've probably mentioned on here before, weekends are the time when all my nice, normal, elective joint replacement patients are not there. So weekends are when I am either floated to another unit or I stay on my own unit but we get atypical patients there (OB-GYN issues, medical problems that don't involve bones, etc.)
Last night I got sent to another unit to do a one-on-one with a very large, schizophrenic patient with a history of methamphetamine use. I'll just let that sink in for a few minutes, shall I?
I spent 8 hours in a hospital room alone with someone who, on paper at least, I would normally sprint away from.
And boy, was it an unusual night.
As I soon discovered, my patient had quite a fascination with "wild animals". Since my patient was a little edgy, I took this person on about eighteen million walks around the floor to try to burn off some nervous energy, toting along the IV pole with us each time. On one of these jaunts, a framed poster of a baby animal that looked like some sort of canine caught my new friend's eye.
"Oh, is that a hyena? Look at him! He's so nice and symmetrical. I've never seen a hyena. One time I saw a wild animal that was like a bobcat or a wildcat or a mountain cat. I saw it walk by the window here too [note; we were NOT on a ground floor level]. One time I saw an Orca whale in a lake. They don't usually live in lakes, so I took a picture of it."
This proved to be a fruitful topic, so my patient thoughtfully provided me with more tidbits throughout the evening:
"If you were by the woods you might get picked off by a wild animal. Like some wolfs. Or mountain bobcats. You should really be careful. If a wild wolf comes out of the woods, you give it a cookie. If it takes the cookie, it'll just, like, go back into the woods. If it doesn't take the cookie, point to the lake. It'll go jump in the lake. I saw that happen but then the bobcat got eaten by an orca whale. In the lake. The whale just ate it all up. It was weird."
My patient had the flattest affect during all this, and consistently called wolves "wolfs" very clearly. I checked in with a nurse at one point to find out if perhaps this person was messing with me, and nope, the nurse said this patient was a bit of a 'frequent flyer' and advised me not to laugh at any advice or stories the patient told me.
We made it all through my shift just fine. Then tonight, in the cafeteria, I saw another CNA who works that unit. She said that my wild-animal-expert patient was pacing the floor, ranting, and attempting to get dressed in all sorts of things because the patient believed it was time to leave.
WHEW! I dodged a bullet there, didn't I? So glad I got floated last night instead of tonight!
Showing posts with label Coworkers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Coworkers. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2012
Friday, October 21, 2011
Two Days Left
I've only got two regular days left at the GreatRep, and then my orientation at the hospital on Monday and Tuesday. I'm planning to still work one day a week at the GreatRep, because they'd like me to and I could use the extra income. Today I was looking at my residents and thinking about how much I'll miss some of them.
And then a call light went of because Mr.UberCombative (the one who Darth Vader choked a nurse) was attacking two CNA's with a full size floor lamp and they'd locked themselves in the bathroom to get away from him then hit the call light for rescue. And then while I helped the remaining CNA from that wing hunt down our charge nurse (he ended up grabbing the DON and the Administrator to deal with that fun situation) I found the charge nurse, who pulled me into another bathroom to help hold up a 103 year old woman while she digitally disimpacted her and avoided her resulting mule kicks as she screamed "That was HURT!" at us all. Poor baby, I bet it really, really did! She was waaaaaaay backed up.
And then I hustled my butt over to where I was originally supposed to be doing what I was originally supposed to be doing (helping the less able residents drink their ensures for snacktime).
Whew.
I don't expect the hospital to be a cakewalk. But I do expect to be assaulted a lot less regularly.
Cross your fingers for that, anyways!
A few minutes after all this, I saw our maintenance man walking down the hall, having confiscated said floor lamp. He looked PISSED. I wonder if he has a special room where all the furniture that's been used as weapons goes for "time out" the way I used to put toys that the kids were fighting over in "time out" for a while to let them all calm down?
And then a call light went of because Mr.UberCombative (the one who Darth Vader choked a nurse) was attacking two CNA's with a full size floor lamp and they'd locked themselves in the bathroom to get away from him then hit the call light for rescue. And then while I helped the remaining CNA from that wing hunt down our charge nurse (he ended up grabbing the DON and the Administrator to deal with that fun situation) I found the charge nurse, who pulled me into another bathroom to help hold up a 103 year old woman while she digitally disimpacted her and avoided her resulting mule kicks as she screamed "That was HURT!" at us all. Poor baby, I bet it really, really did! She was waaaaaaay backed up.
And then I hustled my butt over to where I was originally supposed to be doing what I was originally supposed to be doing (helping the less able residents drink their ensures for snacktime).
Whew.
I don't expect the hospital to be a cakewalk. But I do expect to be assaulted a lot less regularly.
Cross your fingers for that, anyways!
A few minutes after all this, I saw our maintenance man walking down the hall, having confiscated said floor lamp. He looked PISSED. I wonder if he has a special room where all the furniture that's been used as weapons goes for "time out" the way I used to put toys that the kids were fighting over in "time out" for a while to let them all calm down?
Friday, October 14, 2011
Yeah Buddies!
I got my first Chem exam back, and scored an A-. I'm thrilled by this! The first two chapters, what the test was on, involved me relearning all the algebra I'd forgotten since high school. Plus all the regular chemistry topics we were all learning in the class.
Now that we're past that part, the following chapter on naming compounds, Lewis diagrams, and predicting molecular geometry are way, way easier.
Plus my lab partner is really nice; she's a CNA also, and works at a skilled nursing facility. We were swapping stories about the weird residents and the most horrifying post mortem cares we've done, and it's great because we're both 'returning students' (she's in her thirties) so we're both actually motivated to do well in the class because we've got other stuff to do besides goof off.
Work today was sucky.
One of the CNA's that's been at the GreatRep for a few years was fired this week for getting into altercation with a resident. WTF? I haven't heard any details, so I don't know if she just snapped, but the resident she was yelling at is very compliant and nonverbal, and never combative. Not like it's ever okay to really yell at someone you're supposed to be caring for, but if that person had, say, slapped you across the face with their wet brief and then spat on you, one might understand raising your voice a smidgen more than your heart tells you is right. But I can't imagine that anything like that had happened, given who was involved in this. Bizarre.
And yes, the brief-slapping thing is real and did really happen. Not to me, thank goodness. But the resident who did it is alive and kicking. And told me last week that she would like to "shoot [me] with a gun and make a beautiful mess out of [me]". I just sighed and rolled my eyes. That's her horrible, horrible baseline.
I cheer myself up by talking to the adorable little lady who asks for cocoa by calling it "kokomoko". So cute!
Now that we're past that part, the following chapter on naming compounds, Lewis diagrams, and predicting molecular geometry are way, way easier.
Plus my lab partner is really nice; she's a CNA also, and works at a skilled nursing facility. We were swapping stories about the weird residents and the most horrifying post mortem cares we've done, and it's great because we're both 'returning students' (she's in her thirties) so we're both actually motivated to do well in the class because we've got other stuff to do besides goof off.
Work today was sucky.
One of the CNA's that's been at the GreatRep for a few years was fired this week for getting into altercation with a resident. WTF? I haven't heard any details, so I don't know if she just snapped, but the resident she was yelling at is very compliant and nonverbal, and never combative. Not like it's ever okay to really yell at someone you're supposed to be caring for, but if that person had, say, slapped you across the face with their wet brief and then spat on you, one might understand raising your voice a smidgen more than your heart tells you is right. But I can't imagine that anything like that had happened, given who was involved in this. Bizarre.
And yes, the brief-slapping thing is real and did really happen. Not to me, thank goodness. But the resident who did it is alive and kicking. And told me last week that she would like to "shoot [me] with a gun and make a beautiful mess out of [me]". I just sighed and rolled my eyes. That's her horrible, horrible baseline.
I cheer myself up by talking to the adorable little lady who asks for cocoa by calling it "kokomoko". So cute!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Oh, yeah, you're so special.
Right after I go on about how happy and pleasant I am, here I am hopping on my computer to rant about a new employee at the GreatRep. Already, I'm a little iffy about the activities department. You might remember a while back about how I had a run-in with a homophobic employee who used hand gestures to demonstrate how she thought gay sex "doesn't work" and that the best she can hope for the gays is to "hate the sin but love the sinner"? And you might remember how I went over this person's head and discussed it with her bosses, who let her know that it will never, ever happen again. Ever.
Anyway, said idiot is in charge of the activities department and has hired some real winners in the past. Looks like she's done it again. She hired a delicate flower named "Daisy" who is home on summer break from college. Daisy's aunt has volunteered at the GreatRep for years and wants her to work at the GreatRep for a month to get "life experience". Daisy is one of those people I just want to throttle. Why? Because I hate it when people say they can't work with elderly, sick or disabled people because it's sooooooooo sad. Screw that.
What, you're so terribly amazingly compassionate that you can't find it within yourself to do anything to help these people that your heart is bleeding buckets for? You're so fragile and sensitive that your feelings of boo-hooing are more important than doing your damn job? BS.
If you don't want to work in dementia because it's hard, underpaid, involves bodily fluids and very rude people, or it's just plain not your thing? That's FINE. But don't insult all the residents and employees by saying that you're somehow too compassionate to do this job.
It makes it sound like you think the only way the rest of us could be doing this work is by not caring at all. And that's not the case. It makes it sound like you think being old, sick, or disabled is the worst thing in the world and they have no quality of life and should all just die, apparently, because what do they have to live for and why would anyone spend their time helping them live?
And to top it all off, Daisy confesses that she's "terrified" of this place, after watching a caregiver transfer someone with a sit-to-stand. Really? You find moving someone from one chair to another terrifying? Stay far away from children's birthday parties, then. They might play musical chairs, and you'll have an aneurysm.
Daisy, I hope you don't even last the one month you're slated to be here. You're disrespectful of everyone in that building and you just don't get it and if you come up to me looking like someone had a stroke and is dying and then all you want is to say tremulously "Ummm... Millie says... she needs to use the bathroom??" I might have to slap you.
I hope you're going to college for something with no human interaction necessary.
Anyway, said idiot is in charge of the activities department and has hired some real winners in the past. Looks like she's done it again. She hired a delicate flower named "Daisy" who is home on summer break from college. Daisy's aunt has volunteered at the GreatRep for years and wants her to work at the GreatRep for a month to get "life experience". Daisy is one of those people I just want to throttle. Why? Because I hate it when people say they can't work with elderly, sick or disabled people because it's sooooooooo sad. Screw that.
What, you're so terribly amazingly compassionate that you can't find it within yourself to do anything to help these people that your heart is bleeding buckets for? You're so fragile and sensitive that your feelings of boo-hooing are more important than doing your damn job? BS.
If you don't want to work in dementia because it's hard, underpaid, involves bodily fluids and very rude people, or it's just plain not your thing? That's FINE. But don't insult all the residents and employees by saying that you're somehow too compassionate to do this job.
It makes it sound like you think the only way the rest of us could be doing this work is by not caring at all. And that's not the case. It makes it sound like you think being old, sick, or disabled is the worst thing in the world and they have no quality of life and should all just die, apparently, because what do they have to live for and why would anyone spend their time helping them live?
And to top it all off, Daisy confesses that she's "terrified" of this place, after watching a caregiver transfer someone with a sit-to-stand. Really? You find moving someone from one chair to another terrifying? Stay far away from children's birthday parties, then. They might play musical chairs, and you'll have an aneurysm.
Daisy, I hope you don't even last the one month you're slated to be here. You're disrespectful of everyone in that building and you just don't get it and if you come up to me looking like someone had a stroke and is dying and then all you want is to say tremulously "Ummm... Millie says... she needs to use the bathroom??" I might have to slap you.
I hope you're going to college for something with no human interaction necessary.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Phoned it in, in a positive sense
Yep, that's right, I called Child Protective Services about my ex-coworker Calliope. They do prefer that you be able to give them your name and number, and the names/ages of the children you're calling about, as well as the parents' names and address. Luckily for me (as an abuse reporter, not as a taxpayer) Calliope's family is on "medical assistance" (ie her husband's on disability) so the person I spoke with was able to pull up her address easily. Since I haven't witnessed any direct child abuse, all I could report is that she is clearly a meth addict, and I know for 100% certain that she drives while intoxicated, both with and without her kids in the car.
As the case worker I talked to said, that's not enough for them to go and investigate the family. However, when something else inevitably happens, this will go a long way toward building a case for intervention. No one can be an adequate parent and a meth addict at the same time. I'm just so sorry for those kids that they have to wait for someone else to call it in again. I hope their teachers are being alert for signs of abuse and neglect.
As a reminder, if you have any reason to suspect child abuse or neglect in any kids you encounter, a national number is 1-800-4-A-Child and you can easily find the local numbers with google. If you're wrong, nothing bad will happen. No one goes and snatches kids away for no reason; they don't have the resources for that, for one thing. At worst, they'll do a check-in and find that everything's okay, and the family will be puzzled. At best, they'll do a check-in, find that things are not okay, and those kids will get the help they need.
The current trend with child welfare services is toward "family preservation". The goal is to give malfunctioning families support services (counseling, food stamps, respite care, medical care, etc.) in order to rehabilitate them and get them to be a decent place for their children to live. Even the agency I used to work at (theraputic group home for teen boys with multiple failed foster care placements) provides preservation counseling/coaching. It's pretty cool. Especially with the lack of people who want to foster parent. It's hopefully easier to fix the parents that already exist than to find new ones.
I guess we'll know in a few more years after the next batch of longitudinal studies come out.
In the meantime, screw you, Calliope. I hope your kids have other caring adults in their lives.
Monday, July 25, 2011
And then my night went off the rails...
I was all set for work today; I went to bed early last night and slept in late today, so I was finally rested for the first time in days. I showered, did my hair, watched the news.
And then I got to work and one of the two coworkers I was sharing the wing of the facility with was clearly high out of her damn mind. Ugh. She's been showing symptoms of drug use for a while now, and one of our charge nurses has been trying to figure out how to get her in for a drug test. This coworker, "Calliope" (her real first name is weird too) is always screwy after our paydays, then exhausted in between them.
Today it was just beyond obvious. A few of our more alert residents asked what was wrong with her, even. She was twitching, scratching, chewing on her lips, forgetting what she was doing mid-action, dropping things, smelled like burning ass and hair, and then to top it all off she fell asleep at the table when she was supposed to be feeding a resident. Dude. That's horrible. Let's pause to think about that and take a look at some faces of meth, shall we?
So my poor charge nurse got the honors of being the one to say "Hey, you need to leave right now. Don't come back until you have a clean UA. Here's the paperwork for that." Chances of that ever happening? Very, very slim. I'd be kind of surprised if she ever shows up at the facility again. But you never know. I think we should have taken her keys, but whatever.
So then after all that delightful excitement, me and my remaining sober coworker had 3.5 hours to give 5 showers and put 30 people to bed. Awesome. Thanks to other sober coworkers from the other wing who hurried over to help, we got it done.
And I'll be coming in to cover Calliope's shift tomorrow, I'm sure.
Here's the part where I need advice, dear readers: I want to call child protective services, because Calliope has three kiddos under the age of six. And it's not their fault that their Mom is a mess. Another sober coworker lives in the same neighborhood as Calliope and has seen her husband out and about, and reports that he seems to have a drug problem too. I don't have Calliope's home address or recall her children's names. I miiiiiiiight be able to get that from work, though probably not without breaking some rules. Which would be worth it, because there's no freaking way that these people are decent parents.
What info do I need to have before I call CPS? Is there another agency/route I should try instead or along with this?
Tell me, what have you all done in that kind of situation?
And then I got to work and one of the two coworkers I was sharing the wing of the facility with was clearly high out of her damn mind. Ugh. She's been showing symptoms of drug use for a while now, and one of our charge nurses has been trying to figure out how to get her in for a drug test. This coworker, "Calliope" (her real first name is weird too) is always screwy after our paydays, then exhausted in between them.
Today it was just beyond obvious. A few of our more alert residents asked what was wrong with her, even. She was twitching, scratching, chewing on her lips, forgetting what she was doing mid-action, dropping things, smelled like burning ass and hair, and then to top it all off she fell asleep at the table when she was supposed to be feeding a resident. Dude. That's horrible. Let's pause to think about that and take a look at some faces of meth, shall we?
So my poor charge nurse got the honors of being the one to say "Hey, you need to leave right now. Don't come back until you have a clean UA. Here's the paperwork for that." Chances of that ever happening? Very, very slim. I'd be kind of surprised if she ever shows up at the facility again. But you never know. I think we should have taken her keys, but whatever.
So then after all that delightful excitement, me and my remaining sober coworker had 3.5 hours to give 5 showers and put 30 people to bed. Awesome. Thanks to other sober coworkers from the other wing who hurried over to help, we got it done.
And I'll be coming in to cover Calliope's shift tomorrow, I'm sure.
Here's the part where I need advice, dear readers: I want to call child protective services, because Calliope has three kiddos under the age of six. And it's not their fault that their Mom is a mess. Another sober coworker lives in the same neighborhood as Calliope and has seen her husband out and about, and reports that he seems to have a drug problem too. I don't have Calliope's home address or recall her children's names. I miiiiiiiight be able to get that from work, though probably not without breaking some rules. Which would be worth it, because there's no freaking way that these people are decent parents.
What info do I need to have before I call CPS? Is there another agency/route I should try instead or along with this?
Tell me, what have you all done in that kind of situation?
Sunday, July 24, 2011
I wear a lot of hats. Today, literally.
The funny thing about working as a med aide at my facility is that I do a lot more "side work" (as it used to be called when I worked at Denny's back in the day) than I ever anticipated. My primary job is, and always will be, to complete my 3 med passes per day. But in addition to that, I basically fill in any gaps that need filling. I take phone calls from irritated family members who for whatever reason would rather talk to me than the nurse. I handle all the non-prescription type treatments that need to be done in a day (anti-itch lotion on one lady, mouthwash at a certain time of day for another, etc.). When the caregivers can't get a resident to do something, they ask me to do it. When the nurse can't get a resident to take their meds, they have me try it. And when, like today, someone calls out and we're understaffed, I run around like mad trying to get as much done as possible while still medicating all my old folks.
My notes to myself, on days like today, probably look like I'm delusional.
"Violet can't figure out chair - get urine?" then "UA neg. watch for more hallucinations. No bears this time."
"Confiscated several forks from Sally's pocket. ↑ Aggressive?"
"Spoke with Mildred's granddaughter via telephone from 0930-0950. Same old crap."
"Velma requests I cancel her flight to Copenhagen. Give her paper and pen for anxiety?"
"Beth finished her antibiotics. No luck. Still a mess! Is it her birthday?"
Luckily for me I don't have to file these notes. I distill them into something coherent and get others to follow up on what I actually meant by all that.
Today my main "side work" was to do something we call 'out to lunch bunch' which I think is pretty ironic given that it's a dementia facility. They're ALL out to lunch, permanently, right?
But anyway, now that it's nice weather out, we take a small group (who're able to and will enjoy it) out to the courtyard for lunch every day. Since the rest of the staff is serving/feeding/cueing in the main dining rooms, what the med aid does is start noon pass a little early, then go outside with a cart of food and beverages and serve the meal to the lucky bunch.
It's actually really pleasant, and a lot of the residents do really well out there; they like being outdoors, it's quieter, a smaller group, and I have time to really sit and talk with them as I help them eat their meals. Pretty sweet. The cutest part is that, in addition to sunscreen, we've got all these big floppy sun hats with fake flowers on them (the population is about 97% female at my facility) to also help protect them from the sun. Yesterday one of the ladies didn't want to wear her hat, but she really, really wanted me to. So I did. And when I popped inside to pick up some more milk, my coworkers threatened to take my picture in the hat and post it all around the facility. And the internet. And in our facility newsletter. So I wore one again today, just to teach them all what cool really is.
It's pretty much this:
There. Now you know what cool is, too.
My notes to myself, on days like today, probably look like I'm delusional.
"Violet can't figure out chair - get urine?" then "UA neg. watch for more hallucinations. No bears this time."
"Confiscated several forks from Sally's pocket. ↑ Aggressive?"
"Spoke with Mildred's granddaughter via telephone from 0930-0950. Same old crap."
"Velma requests I cancel her flight to Copenhagen. Give her paper and pen for anxiety?"
"Beth finished her antibiotics. No luck. Still a mess! Is it her birthday?"
Luckily for me I don't have to file these notes. I distill them into something coherent and get others to follow up on what I actually meant by all that.
Today my main "side work" was to do something we call 'out to lunch bunch' which I think is pretty ironic given that it's a dementia facility. They're ALL out to lunch, permanently, right?
But anyway, now that it's nice weather out, we take a small group (who're able to and will enjoy it) out to the courtyard for lunch every day. Since the rest of the staff is serving/feeding/cueing in the main dining rooms, what the med aid does is start noon pass a little early, then go outside with a cart of food and beverages and serve the meal to the lucky bunch.
It's actually really pleasant, and a lot of the residents do really well out there; they like being outdoors, it's quieter, a smaller group, and I have time to really sit and talk with them as I help them eat their meals. Pretty sweet. The cutest part is that, in addition to sunscreen, we've got all these big floppy sun hats with fake flowers on them (the population is about 97% female at my facility) to also help protect them from the sun. Yesterday one of the ladies didn't want to wear her hat, but she really, really wanted me to. So I did. And when I popped inside to pick up some more milk, my coworkers threatened to take my picture in the hat and post it all around the facility. And the internet. And in our facility newsletter. So I wore one again today, just to teach them all what cool really is.
It's pretty much this:
There. Now you know what cool is, too.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Gotten Spoiled
Now that I do three 10-hour shifts weekly as a med aide, I typically just do one caregiver shift per week in order to stay full-time at my facility. This week I'm doing two, since I covered for one of my least favorite coworkers on Monday while she got all her top teeth pulled out.
Sidenote: a surprising number of my coworkers wear dentures. And the ones that do all smoke and have all been very poor their whole lives. Lesson? If you cannot afford routine dental care, don't spend your money on cigarrettes. I just went to the dentist for the first time in years and I had a couple of cavities but I'm keeping all my teeth. And I don't smoke.
Back to my original point, though, which is that I'm feeling sorry for myself for working 2 regular CNA shifts this week instead of just 1. I've gotten spoiled really fast, apparently, and would much rather pass meds than wrestle people into attending meals, using the bathroom, and going to bed. Also, I'm noticing more and more that the way evening shifts are structured is really not conducive to teamwork. Since one person must "watch the floor" ( meaning be out in the common areas to prevent falls, elopements, and altercations) and our dinner breaks go from 6pm-7:30pm, during that time whoever is doing care in the bathroom or a resident's room is on their own. One coworker is on break and the other is watching the floor. Not handy at all!
So, poor me, I've got to get ready for work now. Happily, my Certification raise should kick in today!
Sidenote: a surprising number of my coworkers wear dentures. And the ones that do all smoke and have all been very poor their whole lives. Lesson? If you cannot afford routine dental care, don't spend your money on cigarrettes. I just went to the dentist for the first time in years and I had a couple of cavities but I'm keeping all my teeth. And I don't smoke.
Back to my original point, though, which is that I'm feeling sorry for myself for working 2 regular CNA shifts this week instead of just 1. I've gotten spoiled really fast, apparently, and would much rather pass meds than wrestle people into attending meals, using the bathroom, and going to bed. Also, I'm noticing more and more that the way evening shifts are structured is really not conducive to teamwork. Since one person must "watch the floor" ( meaning be out in the common areas to prevent falls, elopements, and altercations) and our dinner breaks go from 6pm-7:30pm, during that time whoever is doing care in the bathroom or a resident's room is on their own. One coworker is on break and the other is watching the floor. Not handy at all!
So, poor me, I've got to get ready for work now. Happily, my Certification raise should kick in today!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Me + Med Cart = True Love
I fricking love my new job at my same facility. I have more independence and autonomy, which is AWESOME when my coworkers are being douchebags like they were today. I'm learning a lot and becoming more med-literate, which is helping as I do my nerdy stuff like look up decision making flowcharts related to different behaviors and how to manage them. Now I can look up "screaming" on www.alzbrain.org and am familiar with some of the medications they suggest.
Also, I'm good at getting all my residents to take their meds. Even the paranoid ones. And I'm starting to remember who takes what so if I see Sally Lou limping and say "Does your foot hurt?" and she says yes, I can remember whether I give her routine tylenol or not, and go run and get it right away. Or if I see Harry starting to get hinky and rearrange his furniture while wearing lots of layers, I can think "Do I give him behavioral meds? Yes! Now might be a good time for that!"
Now I'm feeling guilty that I said my coworkers were being douchebags. Really it was only 2 out of the 12 that I saw today. And it's the same 2 that are always like that. One is just honestly very dumb, and so it's really hard to communicate with her. Example: our facility has two wings, East and West. On East, most of the residents can walk, talk and feed themselves. On West, they don't. My dimbulb coworker has been there for probably 4 months and still cannot tell you which is which. Or where each resident's room is. These are things that normal people knew within 2 weeks of working there. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, that one!
So I love getting to wheel my cart around, popping pills, doing my paperwork and phone calls to family, and not having to chase down Dimbulb to help with a 2-person transfer or Lazy to watch the floor while I go give a shower.
Oh med cart, I love you so much!
Also, I'm good at getting all my residents to take their meds. Even the paranoid ones. And I'm starting to remember who takes what so if I see Sally Lou limping and say "Does your foot hurt?" and she says yes, I can remember whether I give her routine tylenol or not, and go run and get it right away. Or if I see Harry starting to get hinky and rearrange his furniture while wearing lots of layers, I can think "Do I give him behavioral meds? Yes! Now might be a good time for that!"
Now I'm feeling guilty that I said my coworkers were being douchebags. Really it was only 2 out of the 12 that I saw today. And it's the same 2 that are always like that. One is just honestly very dumb, and so it's really hard to communicate with her. Example: our facility has two wings, East and West. On East, most of the residents can walk, talk and feed themselves. On West, they don't. My dimbulb coworker has been there for probably 4 months and still cannot tell you which is which. Or where each resident's room is. These are things that normal people knew within 2 weeks of working there. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, that one!
So I love getting to wheel my cart around, popping pills, doing my paperwork and phone calls to family, and not having to chase down Dimbulb to help with a 2-person transfer or Lazy to watch the floor while I go give a shower.
Oh med cart, I love you so much!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Homeostasis interruptus
I don't know if it's this way at every job, since being a nursing assistant is the only one I've had in the last few years that had coworkers. But it seems like the facilities I've worked at have little internal cycles; everything is calm and good, staffing is stable, we rarely work short. Then, for whatever reason, there's a period of upheaval, which usually SUCKS because it means we're frequently understaffed.
That's what's going on at my job right now. A few people have quit without notice in the last month (bizarre) and it affects all of us. Even though there are 3 shifts per day, it really is a 24-hour shift. So when I show up on evening shift, and one of my coworkers has already been there for hours to help out day shift who were short-staffed, it throws off our balance. Or when we arrive and get report that consists of "we were understaffed, so here are the things we didn't get done" followed by a long list of things we must catch up on immediately, it makes a difficult day. And I'm sure it's the same for the night shift as well.
Add to that the mixed blessing of training another new employee tonight (this is the 3rd new girl I've trained, but I think she'll stick, she's already been a CNA for 6 years) and you have a recipe for a really stressful evening. It's great having another set of hands to help get things done when you're training, but it can slow you down because you must verbalize what you're doing and slow down enough to explain and demonstrate everything. There's less of that with someone who's already experienced in the field but you still have to explain the residents' quirks and the facility policies and procedures.
Ugh.
Why can't people just stay at their jobs, or at least give 2 weeks notice if they won't??
Then again, you have a high-stress, high-difficulty job which pays little and requires little education. That sounds like a recipe for a lot of turnover, doesn't it?
I just have to hold on until the new folks are trained and settled in.
That's what's going on at my job right now. A few people have quit without notice in the last month (bizarre) and it affects all of us. Even though there are 3 shifts per day, it really is a 24-hour shift. So when I show up on evening shift, and one of my coworkers has already been there for hours to help out day shift who were short-staffed, it throws off our balance. Or when we arrive and get report that consists of "we were understaffed, so here are the things we didn't get done" followed by a long list of things we must catch up on immediately, it makes a difficult day. And I'm sure it's the same for the night shift as well.
Add to that the mixed blessing of training another new employee tonight (this is the 3rd new girl I've trained, but I think she'll stick, she's already been a CNA for 6 years) and you have a recipe for a really stressful evening. It's great having another set of hands to help get things done when you're training, but it can slow you down because you must verbalize what you're doing and slow down enough to explain and demonstrate everything. There's less of that with someone who's already experienced in the field but you still have to explain the residents' quirks and the facility policies and procedures.
Ugh.
Why can't people just stay at their jobs, or at least give 2 weeks notice if they won't??
Then again, you have a high-stress, high-difficulty job which pays little and requires little education. That sounds like a recipe for a lot of turnover, doesn't it?
I just have to hold on until the new folks are trained and settled in.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
In Which I Get Judgemental
You know those things you think about people but you aren't supposed to say because it's mean/prejudiced/snotty etc.? That's what this is about.
I recently trained a new employee at the GreatRep, who seemed nice. She's CNA certified but hasn't worked as one before. However she was working as a caregiver at a group home for developmentally disabled adults. Lower volume/patient load than what we do at the GreatRep, but same basic principles plus she's been through the CNA course so she should already know the essentials from that. Seems like a reasonably good hire, is polite, reads and writes English well.
The first red flag for me was when she mentioned something about her home life; that she had been traveling around the world or something for a few years (the first few years of her son's life) and then finally came back because she fell in love with her high school non-sweetheart, and now they're engaged and living with her son's Father. Huh. I generally think one needs a pretty good reason not to be around for their child's first few years of life, and wanderlust doesn't really count in my book.
The second one was that she was complaining about her job at the group home and how the stress of combative residents there was triggering her PTSD (acquired when she was younger, not through serving in the armed forces but ostensibly by having an effed up childhood). Uh-oh. Our residents get combative, and even though they're mostly old ladies, they can be a little scary at times. Would this be a good fit for her?
Answer: nope. Apparently even though she quit her job at the group home and now only works part-time at the GreatRep, she was STILL calling off frequently, wanting to go home early, etc. That's such BULL! Our jobs are hard but do-able when we're fully staffed. Leaving your coworkers short-staffed for no good reason is totally rude and shady.
Then the other night she insisted she had such a bad back injury that she had to go home. Seriously? Even though you were sitting there talking to me like everything was fine and bustling around preparing your dinner? I don't buy it. I think that this girl has a crazy family and that made her crazy, and then she hasn't bucked up and gotten un-crazy. Which sucks, because she's a parent now. And instead of growing up and holding down a job, she is hoping to get disability or something after working part time for a few weeks. Ugh.
I know it's not kind to assume people are going to suck if they tell you they had a bad childhood or whatever, but here's the thing: if they've gotten over it enough to function well? They won't tell you right away. They'll be aware that doing so is inappropriate. People can come from chaos and turn out wonderfully, but those are the people you're surprised to find out were raised so horribly. The ones where you go "Oh, that all makes sense" are the ones who need to get their butts into therapy and figure their crap out.
Or at least not come work with me. Sheesh.
I recently trained a new employee at the GreatRep, who seemed nice. She's CNA certified but hasn't worked as one before. However she was working as a caregiver at a group home for developmentally disabled adults. Lower volume/patient load than what we do at the GreatRep, but same basic principles plus she's been through the CNA course so she should already know the essentials from that. Seems like a reasonably good hire, is polite, reads and writes English well.
The first red flag for me was when she mentioned something about her home life; that she had been traveling around the world or something for a few years (the first few years of her son's life) and then finally came back because she fell in love with her high school non-sweetheart, and now they're engaged and living with her son's Father. Huh. I generally think one needs a pretty good reason not to be around for their child's first few years of life, and wanderlust doesn't really count in my book.
The second one was that she was complaining about her job at the group home and how the stress of combative residents there was triggering her PTSD (acquired when she was younger, not through serving in the armed forces but ostensibly by having an effed up childhood). Uh-oh. Our residents get combative, and even though they're mostly old ladies, they can be a little scary at times. Would this be a good fit for her?
Answer: nope. Apparently even though she quit her job at the group home and now only works part-time at the GreatRep, she was STILL calling off frequently, wanting to go home early, etc. That's such BULL! Our jobs are hard but do-able when we're fully staffed. Leaving your coworkers short-staffed for no good reason is totally rude and shady.
Then the other night she insisted she had such a bad back injury that she had to go home. Seriously? Even though you were sitting there talking to me like everything was fine and bustling around preparing your dinner? I don't buy it. I think that this girl has a crazy family and that made her crazy, and then she hasn't bucked up and gotten un-crazy. Which sucks, because she's a parent now. And instead of growing up and holding down a job, she is hoping to get disability or something after working part time for a few weeks. Ugh.
I know it's not kind to assume people are going to suck if they tell you they had a bad childhood or whatever, but here's the thing: if they've gotten over it enough to function well? They won't tell you right away. They'll be aware that doing so is inappropriate. People can come from chaos and turn out wonderfully, but those are the people you're surprised to find out were raised so horribly. The ones where you go "Oh, that all makes sense" are the ones who need to get their butts into therapy and figure their crap out.
Or at least not come work with me. Sheesh.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Day 26: What Kind of Person Attracts You
I like people that are funny, silly, strong-willed, and knowledgeable. I quickly lose respect for anyone who's too much of a pansy or shows absolutely no interest in learning new things. And while I can like and enjoy someone without much of a sense of humor, I'd rather be around people that crack me up. It's also important to me that people I'm close to have a strong sense of right and wrong, and act accordingly.
This is a timely topic for me because I've been having conflict with a couple of my coworkers this month, which is new for me. One told me I'd hurt her feelings and the other told me to stop intimidating her. Crap. Obviously, it's time for me to work on my communication skills! I talked it over with Mr. Polly and practiced some better strategies.
Just to clarify, the two ladies I've had trouble with do tend to be tempermental, and the one who said to stop intimidating her speaks English as a second language. I hope she meant to say stop trying to tell her what to do, which would have made a lot more sense, given the misunderstanding that we had.
I'm not a total bitch at work (or anywhere else) as far as I know. Don't be scared to talk to me, people! I felt really awful about this and am working on it. But I do really prefer to hang out with and work with people that can take directness without getting upset. It's such a time-saver.
Too bad we don't get to choose our coworkers. I'm comforting myself with the knowledge that I can learn to talk to these ladies in a way they'll understand and that 75% of my coworkers tell me how delighted they are when we're assigned to the same wing/that they miss me when we're not.
Whew.
This is a timely topic for me because I've been having conflict with a couple of my coworkers this month, which is new for me. One told me I'd hurt her feelings and the other told me to stop intimidating her. Crap. Obviously, it's time for me to work on my communication skills! I talked it over with Mr. Polly and practiced some better strategies.
Just to clarify, the two ladies I've had trouble with do tend to be tempermental, and the one who said to stop intimidating her speaks English as a second language. I hope she meant to say stop trying to tell her what to do, which would have made a lot more sense, given the misunderstanding that we had.
I'm not a total bitch at work (or anywhere else) as far as I know. Don't be scared to talk to me, people! I felt really awful about this and am working on it. But I do really prefer to hang out with and work with people that can take directness without getting upset. It's such a time-saver.
Too bad we don't get to choose our coworkers. I'm comforting myself with the knowledge that I can learn to talk to these ladies in a way they'll understand and that 75% of my coworkers tell me how delighted they are when we're assigned to the same wing/that they miss me when we're not.
Whew.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The Tattletale Diaries
Sometimes, in Long Term Care, there's drama among employees. Shocker, right? I generally stay out of it, which has been particularly easy with how often I've changed jobs over the past year. The only one that's been constant was the HomeCare Agency and I worked solo there, only seeing other employees if we were doing a shift change or at the occasional meeting.
I'm also a firm believer in handling minor conflicts myself. It's really not that hard to say "hey, that bothered me" or "In the future can you please ..." to a coworker. It's a little harder to say to a supervisor.
Up until today I had only reported one other employee at any of these jobs; at the Crapdorable place, one of the caregivers was so rough with the residents that they would hold off on using the bathroom or going to bed until shift change so that they wouldn't have to be handled by him. Many of them told me this, more than once. So obviously, I reported him. And felt no unsureness doing so - I'd also have happily told him to his face, and did jump in to stop him once when I observed it firsthand.
So when, yesterday, one of the Department Heads interrupted an activity with our residents and started talking badly about gay people in front of everyone I had a problem with it. And I let her know, right then and there. And she wasn't deterred. Seriously, this woman STOPPED AN ACTIVITY for the old people and started talking about the repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell. And how servicemen and women shouldn't have to shower with gays. And that gay sex "doesn't work" (illustrated with hand gestures). And that at best, she could "love the sinner but hate the sin".
My responses, for the record were, 1. If the most uncomfortable thing a soldier has to deal with DURING A WAR is showering with someone else, he is doing very well indeed. They know they're signing up for all sorts of horrific things, and if anyone is willing to do so, they should be able to. 2. Ew, that's gross, please stop with the gestures. 3. Oh . . . kaaaaaay?
It was astoundingly inappropriate and uncomfortable. And it was all in front of the people we're there to take care of. And she only stopped when, finally, the charge nurse came into the room and changed the subject.
So, since me cutting her off with "I have several gay family members and don't like hearing that stuff" at the beginning of her rant didn't work, I went over her head today. And was nervous about it.
And it went really, really well. I talked to my Director of Nursing, who asked me some questions about it (and sounded genuinely shocked that all this happened in front of the residents) and asked me to give her a little written statement, and promised she and the other Boss Lady would handle it. And to let her know if I catch any flak for this from the Homophobic Dept. Head.
Hooray!
I'm so relieved. I do really like working there (really enjoy almost all my coworkers and the residents I care for) and was super disappointed by this. But as long as it gets fixed, I can keep being happy where I work and proud of the place where I do it.
I'm also a firm believer in handling minor conflicts myself. It's really not that hard to say "hey, that bothered me" or "In the future can you please ..." to a coworker. It's a little harder to say to a supervisor.
Up until today I had only reported one other employee at any of these jobs; at the Crapdorable place, one of the caregivers was so rough with the residents that they would hold off on using the bathroom or going to bed until shift change so that they wouldn't have to be handled by him. Many of them told me this, more than once. So obviously, I reported him. And felt no unsureness doing so - I'd also have happily told him to his face, and did jump in to stop him once when I observed it firsthand.
So when, yesterday, one of the Department Heads interrupted an activity with our residents and started talking badly about gay people in front of everyone I had a problem with it. And I let her know, right then and there. And she wasn't deterred. Seriously, this woman STOPPED AN ACTIVITY for the old people and started talking about the repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell. And how servicemen and women shouldn't have to shower with gays. And that gay sex "doesn't work" (illustrated with hand gestures). And that at best, she could "love the sinner but hate the sin".
My responses, for the record were, 1. If the most uncomfortable thing a soldier has to deal with DURING A WAR is showering with someone else, he is doing very well indeed. They know they're signing up for all sorts of horrific things, and if anyone is willing to do so, they should be able to. 2. Ew, that's gross, please stop with the gestures. 3. Oh . . . kaaaaaay?
It was astoundingly inappropriate and uncomfortable. And it was all in front of the people we're there to take care of. And she only stopped when, finally, the charge nurse came into the room and changed the subject.
So, since me cutting her off with "I have several gay family members and don't like hearing that stuff" at the beginning of her rant didn't work, I went over her head today. And was nervous about it.
And it went really, really well. I talked to my Director of Nursing, who asked me some questions about it (and sounded genuinely shocked that all this happened in front of the residents) and asked me to give her a little written statement, and promised she and the other Boss Lady would handle it. And to let her know if I catch any flak for this from the Homophobic Dept. Head.
Hooray!
I'm so relieved. I do really like working there (really enjoy almost all my coworkers and the residents I care for) and was super disappointed by this. But as long as it gets fixed, I can keep being happy where I work and proud of the place where I do it.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Confessions
One of my bigger peeves about working in Long Term Care is that my coworkers tend to be unreliable as far as showing up for shifts on time. Or at all. In general, I don't call in unless I absolutely have to, because I know how much it sucks to be the one that shows up when no one else does. The workload doesn't decrease just because the workforce has; the same number of residents still need the same amount of care that they do every day, no matter how many hands there are to give it to them.
Which is why, just yesterday, I was smugly thinking to myself how glad I was I'd made it in during the snow we recently had, and that I should pick out something fun to get for myself with my "perfect attendance" monthly bonus that I'm sure to get.
And then I fell down my damn stairs on the way out the door this morning at 5:45 am. And landed on wet, cold concrete. I dragged myself back into my apartment, intending to put on dry scrubs and head right back out the door, until the pain hit me and I realized that 8 hours of walking, lifting, and standing were probably not going to make my knee and hip feel any better.
So I sucked up the embarrassment and picked up the phone, and called, teling the charge nurse what had happened and that I wasn't going to make it today, but would do whatever I needed to in order to be there tomorrow. And me and my ice pack hit the couch and took a 4 hour nap.
And here's the confession part: It was awesome.
I'm only mildly sore and bruised-up now, which makes me think maybe I should have gone ahead and toughed it out.
But an unexpected day off like this is actually really, really nice. Oops. Guess I should remember this next time I'm cursing my "slacker" coworkers who don't show up. Turns out I've got a slacker side too, it just took a wet stairway and gravity to show it to me.
Which is why, just yesterday, I was smugly thinking to myself how glad I was I'd made it in during the snow we recently had, and that I should pick out something fun to get for myself with my "perfect attendance" monthly bonus that I'm sure to get.
And then I fell down my damn stairs on the way out the door this morning at 5:45 am. And landed on wet, cold concrete. I dragged myself back into my apartment, intending to put on dry scrubs and head right back out the door, until the pain hit me and I realized that 8 hours of walking, lifting, and standing were probably not going to make my knee and hip feel any better.
So I sucked up the embarrassment and picked up the phone, and called, teling the charge nurse what had happened and that I wasn't going to make it today, but would do whatever I needed to in order to be there tomorrow. And me and my ice pack hit the couch and took a 4 hour nap.
And here's the confession part: It was awesome.
I'm only mildly sore and bruised-up now, which makes me think maybe I should have gone ahead and toughed it out.
But an unexpected day off like this is actually really, really nice. Oops. Guess I should remember this next time I'm cursing my "slacker" coworkers who don't show up. Turns out I've got a slacker side too, it just took a wet stairway and gravity to show it to me.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Subculture
In Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain describes his fellow cooks as "wacked-out moral degenerates, dope fiends, refugees, a thuggish assortment of drunks, sneak thieves, sluts, and psychopaths,"
Never having worked in a restaurant beyond the unfortunate few months I hostessed at Denny's, I can't tell you whether I agree with him or not. But what I can tell you is that if a year ago you had asked me to describe a health care facility's nursing staff, I would have said something like they are neat, educated, professional, impersonal, hurried, interchangeable people. That was before my first day in Long Term Care, when I was shocked to find that my new coworkers resembled the grizzled veteran waitress at Denny's who has two trailers (one for her shoes and one to live in) much more than my previous Health care Worker Ideal.
In the nurse's station, I saw people who eat McDonald's for dinner, say they "ain't puttin' up with that shit" and wear long acrylic fingernails. People who live in trailers, or if they are under 25, with their parents. People who I thought were shockingly casual with the residents. Both the aides I trained with would go into a resident's apartment, plunk down on the nearest surface (be it a chair, a walker, or a bed) and casually ask that resident if he or she was ready for dinner, or whatever it was. That first week, I was horrified.
After having been at the facility for a few months now, I'm starting to understand the more unspoken rules among the staff: yes, they do swear in the nurse's station, but only with the door shut so residents don't overhear. No, I don't approve of the girls that date guys who take control of the couple's only car and drop their girlfriends off for work hours early and then call every five minutes leading up to the end of their shift, but as it turns out, neither does anyone else. Yes, they are very informal and casual with the residents, but these are people that they bathe, toilet, feed, and put to bed 5 days a week. These are people who say "Thanks, love you honey!" as we are walking out of their doors after helping them. And most importantly, though staff will cover for one another over small indiscretions such as texting when you could be charting, when it comes to actual patient care, they will bust anyone who is being neglectful. Because whether they're trashy or not, they love their residents. And I can respect that.
So now I'd describe long-term-care health care workers as half dysfunctional Wal-Mart family, half fierce patient advocates. And while I certainly hope to emulate the latter half of that and not the first, I've made peace with the rest of it. As long as they're caring for our residents properly, I've got no problem with them. And vice-versa.
And I've got my own acrylic nails now, too.
Never having worked in a restaurant beyond the unfortunate few months I hostessed at Denny's, I can't tell you whether I agree with him or not. But what I can tell you is that if a year ago you had asked me to describe a health care facility's nursing staff, I would have said something like they are neat, educated, professional, impersonal, hurried, interchangeable people. That was before my first day in Long Term Care, when I was shocked to find that my new coworkers resembled the grizzled veteran waitress at Denny's who has two trailers (one for her shoes and one to live in) much more than my previous Health care Worker Ideal.
In the nurse's station, I saw people who eat McDonald's for dinner, say they "ain't puttin' up with that shit" and wear long acrylic fingernails. People who live in trailers, or if they are under 25, with their parents. People who I thought were shockingly casual with the residents. Both the aides I trained with would go into a resident's apartment, plunk down on the nearest surface (be it a chair, a walker, or a bed) and casually ask that resident if he or she was ready for dinner, or whatever it was. That first week, I was horrified.
After having been at the facility for a few months now, I'm starting to understand the more unspoken rules among the staff: yes, they do swear in the nurse's station, but only with the door shut so residents don't overhear. No, I don't approve of the girls that date guys who take control of the couple's only car and drop their girlfriends off for work hours early and then call every five minutes leading up to the end of their shift, but as it turns out, neither does anyone else. Yes, they are very informal and casual with the residents, but these are people that they bathe, toilet, feed, and put to bed 5 days a week. These are people who say "Thanks, love you honey!" as we are walking out of their doors after helping them. And most importantly, though staff will cover for one another over small indiscretions such as texting when you could be charting, when it comes to actual patient care, they will bust anyone who is being neglectful. Because whether they're trashy or not, they love their residents. And I can respect that.
So now I'd describe long-term-care health care workers as half dysfunctional Wal-Mart family, half fierce patient advocates. And while I certainly hope to emulate the latter half of that and not the first, I've made peace with the rest of it. As long as they're caring for our residents properly, I've got no problem with them. And vice-versa.
And I've got my own acrylic nails now, too.
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